Tis the season for the “Jesus is the Reason for the Season” signs and posts and sentiments that leave me bristling. And not for the reason you might expect.
I love Jesus, but the sentiment excludes. It excludes all who share the season. The Jews. The Muslims. The Atheists. The Pagans. The animals. The trees.
What my fervent friends truly mean to express is that “Jesus is the reason for my season,” but even that sentiment separates. Instead of sharing His light, it makes its proprietary. (Why then an insistence on saying “Merry Christmas” or calling decorated evergreens “Christmas trees?” Why not let Christmas be a secret handshake shared among Believers?)
I love the Christmas story. I steep in its magic each Christmas Eve… I feel the Holy aperture of Love’s arrival… And I recognize the gift of it in the traditions of others, and in the sky above us all–in the promise of the coming light.
“Jesus is the reason for the season,” stakes claim to a time of year which held potency long before his coming, and dims the very light His birth reflects–to all–in the dark night.
ps. I’d still dance with you to this: