Christmas

Growing up as a Jew in America, Christmas was a strange time for me.  All my friends were Christians who happily celebrated Christmas.  It seemed to be a wonderful holiday.  People exchanged gifts.  People were nicer to each other than at any other time of the year.  Christmas was part of the culture of my country.  Bing Crosby sang, “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas.”  There were movies about Christmas like “It Was a Wonderful Life,” with James Stewart and “A Miracle on Thirty-Fourth Street,” with Maureen O’Hara.  It was a federal holiday (a day off from school) in a country that ascribed to the separation of church and state.

However, at the house where I grew up, Christmas was forbidden.  No Christmas presents.  No Christmas tree.  Santa Claus didn’t exist.  We were Jews who didn’t recognize that the birth of the baby Jesus had led, according to Christians, to the arrival of the Messiah.  I was taught to be always on guard to avoid being tricked into converting to Christianity.  The conflict between inside and outside of my house confused me.  In those days, there was an added problem as our public school engaged in Christmas rituals.  I remember singing the Christmas Carol, “Silent Night, Holy Night,” along with my classmates. 

After my bar mitzvah in 1958, I became less and less of an observant Jew.    I was especially mortified when I read the Old Testament story of how God asked Abraham, the first Jew, to kill his son, Isaac.  It was a test of how devoted Abraham was to God, who thankfully stopped Abraham at the last second.  After all, it was only a test.  I hate to say out loud what I would have said to someone who asked me to kill my son as a test of my faith in God.  However, I did make sure that my children received at least a minimal Jewish education, my son a circumcision, and both had a bar/bat mitzvah.  I also became less and less a believer in the existence of God.  As Voltaire said, “If God didn’t exist, it would be necessary to invent him.”

From a study of religion, I have sensed a difference between the God of the Old Testament and the God of the New Testament of the Bible.  The God of the Old seemed to be of fire and brimstone, full of fury.  When the Hebrews arrived in Israel forty years after fleeing Egypt, there were people already there, the Canaanites.  The God of the Old Testament ordered that the Jews should eliminate, by the sword, every living thing within the walled city of Jericho.  These Canaanites had not attempted any armed aggression against the Jews.  What did they do to deserve this violent death?  Unfortunately for them, they were occupying land God had promised to the Jewish people.

The God of the New Testament seemed to be more about love.  Love thy neighbor.  Love thy enemy.  Turn the other cheek.  My favorite quote is from John 8:7, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone.”  I love that message.

This coming Friday, December 25, millions around the world will celebrate Christmas.  To one and all, especially my wife, Cristina, Merry Christmas and Feliz Natal.