Growing up in the denomination that refuses to call itself a denomination, every year around December we would get the annual sermon on how Jesus wasn't born on Christmas day and that it was probably in the springtime (although as an adult I've learned many people think it could be in October,) and that we should never, ever believe we have the authority for man-made holy days. I learned how the nativity scenes were all wrong because the bible doesn't say there were three wise men, only three gifts, and plus, by the time the wise men found Jesus he was probably already a toddler and they were no longer in the manger. But somehow this group still justified celebrating a pagan festival in the name of materialism. Parents had no problem lying to their children about Santa.
In fact, I did the same when I had kids. I was so far past seeing Christmas as any kind of religious holiday, and I didn't have a real relationship with Christ at the time either. Christmas was so much fun with young kids. We had family traditions and when it came to Christmas day, I really think Peppy and I enjoyed it just as much as the kids did. Probably more.
When I became born again, my sons were 4 and 8 and the Lord convicted me big time against the holidays, all the holidays. But I really felt the main reason he was convicting me over Christmas was because we had been struggling a little with Gage and lying. And how in the world can I tell my son not to lie, when I'm flat out telling him some overweight old man, who watches him while he's sleeping, sneaks into our house and brings him presents if he's good?
So I prayed about what to do. This was actually during July, so Christmas was far away, but the conviction was strong. A few days later Gage approached me and asked me to please tell him the truth about Santa. It was so random. I knew it was a God thing, and I told him the truth. He looked up with big, innocent eyes and said, "So it was all you and Daddy?" Then he ran up and hugged me and thanked me. (This is a child that I believe is on the spectrum somewhere and recoils at most human touch. I remember this memory as clear as day,because it is so precious to me.)
Then we moved into the RV and didn't have room for a tree anyway. So it was never a big deal. It was like a natural progression for my family.
That was seven years ago, and Christmas has never been the same for us, but literally no one has missed it. There is freedom in not feeling the frantic stress of finding the perfect gift for someone who literally has everything they already want and need. And my kids still get stuff. Everyone in our family understands our stance, but I don't begrudge my mom for wanting to get the kids presents, although she has toned it down a lot over the past few years. And we have still often gotten children off the angel tree, because it's not fair to those children to believe in Santa and not get anything on Christmas day. It's not their fault.
I have no aversion to buying anyone a gift, but I do have a bit of problem when it feels like an obligation. I would rather see something that reminds me of someone and buy it as a surprise randomly during the year.
As a born again believer I do have a hard time wrapping my head around families who do Santa AND Jesus. I don't believe we can have both worlds when it comes to Christmas. I earnestly believe that if someone wants to celebrate Christmas as the birth day of our Savior, who am I to judge them? How can it be a bad thing to have a time of year where people are actually thinking of Jesus? (But maybe I'm wrong about all that and shouldn't lean on my own understanding, because it literally is pagan in its roots. I think conviction is a personal thing between each believer and God. Just like I prayed and prayed and never felt convicted about Harry Potter land, when I know for certain others would.)
This year I feel so far removed from it all though. It doesn't even feel like December. It's hard for me to tell if this is from my covid brain fog, or life in general. But even after I was born again I could still feel the "Christmas spirit" in the air when I heard Christmas songs, or made cookies and candy. This year, I'm feeling absolutely squat. And I legitimately do not care enough to care, but neither do my children or Peppy. So I guess it really doesn't matter.
I have listened to my two favorite Christmas songs, Weird Al's "Christmas at Ground Zero." My other is a heavy metal cover of "Little Drummer Boy," by Epic Djent. Truthfully, I would listen to both all year long. I do not believe the heavy metal cover would be approved by Angela from The Office. I did hang three strands of lights inside, but that's just because I like colorful lights. I might just never take them down.
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