Thursday, December 5, 2019

THE MYTHS OF CHRISTMAS



First, a definition:

Myth—any real or fictional story, recurring theme, or character type that appeals to the consciousness of a people by embodying its cultural ideals or by giving expression to deep, commonly felt emotions.

[I'm repeating this post because I think it says good things about a culture figure many of us have grown up with. Perhaps, as we've matured, we've gone deeper into the "meaning" of Christmas, and have discovered for ourselves, as Linus Van Pelt says to Charlie Brown, that "this is what Christmas is all about."]
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Do you remember when you were told there was no Santa Claus? That's right--no jolly fat man in a big red suit, with a long white beard, who rode through the sky in a sleigh pulled by eight tiny reindeer? No sudden appearance down the chimney to bring lots and lots of toys and gifts to good little girls and boys?

Some people recall this exploded myth with sadness--they feel they lost the mystery and magic of a generous saint.

Other folks, decades later, still cling to the anger they felt--they'd been lied to, betrayed, led to believe one thing, then the rug was whipped out from under them; they lost faith in those who had told them the story in the first place and then whisked it away.

You might like to search for the letter written to The New York Sun in 1897, in which a little girl named Virginia O'Hanlon asked the editor if there really was a Santa Claus. Just type in yes virginia there is a santa claus.

We all have myths and stories we've enjoyed, needed, and even, perhaps, still cling to.

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Another one was dramatized for me when I taught freshman composition. We were nearing the end of the first semester, heading into December. We'd read an essay appropriate for the holidays soon to be celebrated.

My class of 22 included students ages 18 to over 50. Not quite a bell curve, there being more in the 18-28 age range. But one woman was 50-something; she saw the world through a different lens. I anticipated a lively discussion.

The Christmas Eve activities shared by most students included school plays and concerts,  church pageants, family trips to visit grandparents. Pretty much a broad spectrum of what scholars call The Golden Age--that time that "always was, and never is." We recall the good things, we relate to the happy times from movies or television programs. We lump our childhood Christmases together and declare we "always had a happy Christmas time."

My next question to the class was, "What are you going to do this Christmas Eve?"

"Go to church." 
"Go to a party." 
"Open presents." 
"Have a big family dinner."

Then my 50-something student spoke up. She wouldn't be celebrating, not because she wasn't religious or had anything against Christmas. She was unmarried. Had no children or other relatives. She found Christmas Eve the loneliest time of the year. 

The room grew suddenly, unexpectedly, silent. 

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For most of the younger students, it was like learning Santa Claus was just a fun kids' story.

Christmas Eve was supposed to be a magical time. Presents under the tree! Big dinner with lots of food and wine! Lights and noise and action, the bigger the better!

This woman, twice their age, had injected Reality--a different kind of reality--into their world. Having no children or other family, her friends couldn't relate to her situation. And she couldn't relate to the magic and hoop-la described by the younger students.

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I'm not against myths. As an art form, the myth often expresses or illustrates truth. 

Santa Claus represents all that is good and generous. He is, in popular culture, St. Nicholas, a bishop of the church, who actually existed. Here is a portion of what is written about the good saint on the website franciscanmedia.org:

Perhaps the best-known story about Nicholas concerns his charity toward a poor man who was unable to provide dowries for his three daughters of marriageable age. Rather than see them forced into prostitution, Nicholas secretly tossed a bag of gold through the poor man’s window on three separate occasions, thus enabling the daughters to be married. Over the centuries, this particular legend evolved into the custom of gift-giving on the saint’s feast. In the English-speaking countries, Saint Nicholas became, by a twist of the tongue, Santa Claus—further expanding the example of generosity portrayed by this holy bishop.

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The myth of a universally happy Christmas Eve is not bad, or destructive. It may be the only light in a dark existence. (You might want to reread, or watch, Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol for reference.) 

Myth points to truth. Hang onto that.

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And one happy ending to the Santa Claus story is told by my friend Jan. When she learned Santa Claus wasn't real, she was extremely hurt. Her dad told her, "Santa Claus lives, in the hearts of little children everywhere."


Saint Nicholas

2 comments:

  1. I don't remember being told there was no Santa Claus, but I do remember I relished knowing something that my younger siblings didn't. I was in on the "secret."

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  2. I didn't believe in Santa until I saw him through my kids' eyes. I am haunted by people being alone on Christmas, even when they choose it, and although I don't fear many things, that's one of them.

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