Once again,
that Season is upon us when I get just a little nostalgic, not misty so much as
wistful. More and more, this time of
year I find myself saying, “Gee, I miss Schottenstein’s.” I’m sure I’m not
alone in mourning the store gone now from the Columbus landscape. But you don’t
want to hear me pining over days gone by.
So, I’ll move on.
It is also the
Season when we’re not sure how to greet one another. I had finished the fourth or so draft of this
essay when I discovered the President-elect had brought the issue up when he
spoke at Liberty University in October.
That news alert got past me somehow.
Anyway, it seems to suggest the debate hasn’t gone away.
We
can’t say “Merry Christmas” because we might offend our Jewish neighbors. I get
that. But since our Jewish neighbors
make up less than 3% of the U.S. population, I wonder how serious the threat is. Still, if the guy is wearing a Yarmulke (what Sherlock Holmes would call “a hint”),
I might hold off on hitting him with “Merry Christmas.” I might go away feeling
good about my “bold witness” but I also might leave him with a closed mind about Christians.
What do we say
to Muslims we meet? Now, that’s a
puzzle. Sure, they don’t worship Jesus
but Islam has a high regard for Jesus.
He is considered a prophet and, though they do not believe him to have
been the Son of God, some Muslims believe he was born to a virgin. Fundamentalist Muslims forbid the faithful to
say “Merry Christmas” to Christian acquaintances, though other Muslim groups
disagree. So, if I say “Merry Christmas”
to a Muslim, he might consider me friendly, rude, or benighted. On occasion, I’ve had Muslims say, “God bless
you” to me; I usually repeat the benediction, assuming each of us knows what we
mean when we say the words.
How about just
saying, “Happy Holidays?” Those safe,
inoffensive words always make me smile.
Here’s the most unnecessary lesson in etymology you will ever receive.
“Holiday” derives from “holy day.”
It’s so obvious
I imagine a scenario in which some bright youngster, having just heard mom’s
neutral greeting to a store clerk, says, “You know, ‘holiday’ sounds a lot like
‘holy day.’” Mom, preoccupied with
getting her purchases into the trunk and wondering what dad is making for
dinner, may inadvertently go into dictionary mode and say, “That’s because
Christmas is a ‘holy day’ to religious people.” Oops, there goes the effort to raise Sonny in
a secular atmosphere. His next words
might just be, “Religious? What does Christmas have to do with religion?” Maybe he will wonder if the explanation he’d
been given for the “manger scenes” set up all around town is wrong. Maybe they’re not just to remind us to give
to poor families. Maybe there is
something about that Baby the strangely dressed men are looking at. And, maybe those songs they’ve been playing
in the store—songs about joy and peace—mean something.
Far
fetched? Sure. But this time of year there are all kinds of
clues regarding “incarnate Deity” and promises that men and women “no more may
die.” The snippets from these ubiquitous carols are food for thought. And, if you are trying to raise bright
children to have a secular worldview, you had best not let them think too
much.
Rumor
circulating last year suggested store managers, weary of constraining their
employee’s free speech, told them to use whatever greeting they wanted to. What could it hurt if they briefly
acknowledged their faith?
Ah, that brings
me back to Schottenstein’s.
If you never
experienced the store, you should know it was a huge outlet for overstocked
merchandise of every kind. You could buy
high-end clothing and shoes, popcorn and cokes, and many things weird and
wonderful. George Clooney and George
Clinton could buy outfits there. Suppose
you wanted (for reasons best discussed with your therapist) a wallet made of
Koala hide. Though the store might prove
not to have it, Schottenstein’s still would have been the first place to visit.
And during the
holiday season lots of people visited Schottenstein’s.
Christmas
shoppers entering the store saw a large menorah next to a poster explaining
Hanukkah. The Schottenstein family
wanted non-Jewish customers to understand this holiday celebrating God’s
faithfulness in restoring proper worship to Jerusalem.
They were not
attempting to win people to their faith.
They were simply affirming their faith, just as their store being closed
on the Sabbath did.
As we once
again weigh the options of what to say to strangers this Advent season, maybe
the Schottensteins’ example is instructive.
If the family members didn’t hesitate to affirm their faith, maybe
you’re free to speak a heartfelt “Merry Christmas” to those you meet.
Nonetheless, we
need to realize saying “Merry Christmas” is not an especially effective means
of announcing your faith. Anyone can say
it. Some may say it just because it
makes them feel good to defy political correctness. And, of course, saying it by no means implies
commitment to the Child of Christmas.
Maybe we can
learn something from the fourth-century bishop Athanasius, who was also
involved in a debate over the right words to use at Christmas. He said, “The Son of God became a man so men
might become sons of God.” Could your
best witness this Christmas—and all the year—be a lifestyle demonstrating you
have become a child of God?
