What Makes Christmas?

This is not a theological treatise. I understand the necessity of a birthday for God incarnate. I understand the need to overwrite the Bacchanalian feasting at the winter solstice. I’m good with all that.

But what traditions make it feel like Christmas? That’s the question I’m pondering here.

Is it the snow? That’s not possible. It is Christmas in tropical climates that never see snow. Even in Ohio there wasn’t always snow. It wasn’t always even cold enough for there to be snow. So I will deduce that it is not snow.

Is it the tree? I can’t remember a Christmas without a tree. When I was a child we had a real tree. My aunt had a tree that was “flocked” or coated with this Styrofoam-like substance that was supposed to look like snow. My grandmother had an aluminum tree with the light that rotated through four different colors pointed at it. Very modern then and very retro now. Way cool. But the trees go up and come down at varying times. For us, the tree went up on my sister’s birthday and came down on mine. Unless we were still traveling.

Is it the cookies? I love Christmas baking. In fact, no matter what, when, or where – I always bake at least some cookies. This year I’ve made seven varieties and ten different batches of cookies. That seems like a lot, but it is nothing compared to years ago when my sister and I baked for a week and made 3000 cookies, a dozen nut rolls, fruitcake, candy, and sometimes popcorn balls. We had to have a plan on the order to cook them and strategies for shopping for ingredients. We were masters at the whole baking thing. But even years that I’ve only made two or three kinds, it felt like Christmas.

Is it the cards? I write a yearly Christmas letter making a definite effort to not be too “braggy” about the past year. But since we have moved every ten years, there are people who I don’t see on a regular basis, but I’m still interested in their lives and hope they care enough to read a page about mine. I love the whole process of running to the mailbox and seeing what news is there waiting. I know that my children are grown, but it astounds me that the kids that were growing up around me have, in fact, grown up. I hear of graduations and marriages. Babies and even death and divorces. Life isn’t all a bed of roses.

Is it Santa Claus? A few years were really rough there. Our family was at that in between stage. Everyone was too old for Santa, but not old enough to make the next batch of Santa fans. Now we have Santa fans again. The wonder in sparkling eyes. The whole hearted belief in someone who would spend the night to bring toys to girls and boys simply because the kids were wonderful. What a concept. If you could make up something that would be pure goodness, what would it be? A jolly old man who, with no strings attached, will bring you gifts just because you are a worthwhile person would maybe be that concept.

That, or maybe the Baby Jesus. But this isn’t going to be a theological treatise.