December, 2007

Dear Friends,

I stumbled across this description of Yuletide from James Kirkwood’s autobiographical book, Diary of Mad Playwright:

It was suddenly time for Santa to have his annual hands around our throats. Christmas. I had promised myself for years to remove myself from the scene of Bloomingdale’s drunken Christmas parties, sad Santas ringing bells on rainy corners while hundreds of people who can’t afford it race around madly looking for gifts for people they barely know, let alone love. That together with a nomadic childhood, split between parents who would fight either over who would “get Jimmy for Christmas” or, in many cases when their love affairs or professional lives took precedence, over “who would take Jimmy for Christmas” or “Where can we send him, what about Aunt Peggy and Uncle Leonard in Elyria?”

Christmas is fine for kids, Jimmy concludes begrudgingly, although it doesn’t much sound like it was fine for him as a kid. This melancholy assessment of the holiday season (in what is supposed to be a light-hearted book) is clearly borne of the pain of lack, in this case his lack of parental love. But I find myself wondering about the parents’ lack, which they in turn bequeath to their child. This one paragraph reveals an empty selfishness and inability to see the joy of Christmas, an inherited blindness which doubtless causes a year-round spiritual ennui. I grieve for those whose only belief in Christmas is a hope for human peace and goodwill, because we all know they will be left wanting. It is only belief in the peace and goodwill of Jesus, which is a peace beyond understanding, and a goodwill, less to do with feeling than a will to do good, that elevates Christmas from sad Santas to angel alleluias. When we celebrate Jesus coming into the world to save us from our sinfulness and herald the triumph over death and hell, we can celebrate hope in the darkness, rather than seeing the darkness of the world as a sign of despair. Sad Santas on rainy corners become tiny lights of human kindness, gathering their pennies to help what little they can. People racing around looking for ways to give to those whom they don’t know become a blessed temporary respite from most peoples’ habitual ignorance of one another’s existence. Believing that Christ’s love has been born in the world strengthens the faithful from attempting to find the meaning of their lives through love affairs and professions, and enables us to hold our children, families and friends closer.

This Christmas, if you find yourself stressed out by the external traditions of the season, concentrate on the birth of the love and light of Jesus Christ in the world and in your heart. Everything else is illusion. You’ll find the traditions more fun, the sounds and sights sweeter, and even the stresses more palatable. And pray for all those who feel the hands of Santa around their throats and not the arms of Jesus around their shoulders.

Love and light,

Martin

To read Martin's letters from past months, please click here.