Christmas, in the Public Sphere. Or, How I Learned to Cope with Christmas.* – Barbara Greenberg

Even before Halloween was happening I started to see commercials on television advertising Christmas shopping, I was bitter. “It’s not even Halloween!” I yelled at the television. Really, I did, you can ask Patrick, he saw me do it and raised his eyebrow at me, probably wondering if I was already starting to put on my bitter face for Christmas. You see, I’m Jewish – a label I’ve used my whole life, and it’s true, born to a Jewish mother, a Jewish father, both of whom have Jewish mothers, who also have Jewish parents, and so on and so on. I come from a long line of Jews – of course what this means to me is incredibly different to what it probably meant to my grandmother, or to my grandmother’s next-door neighbour who lived out her final years in downtown Toronto, but wore a daily reminder of the Holocaust tattooed on her arm – lucky to survive, but forever branded with a number.

For me being Jewish makes Christmas time a strange time of year. As a child my parents used to give my sister and I Hanukkah presents on Christmas day. We woke up to a big pile of presents wrapped in Christmas paper, which we happily opened, and then ate breakfast while watching the Disney Christmas Parade on television, and had leftover Chinese for dinner from the night before. Not to give into stereotypes too much, but every year my family goes to a Chinese food restaurant for dinner on the 24^th of December for my Mother’s birthday. As if it’s not hard enough to have your birthday the day before one of the most popular guys in all of the world – but there’s nothing open, so every year, Chinese food. When I was older I learned that my parents gave my sister and I our presents on Christmas day so we wouldn’t feel left out from all the fun our friends had. This was true – there’s nothing more depressing as a child than calling your friend Christmas afternoon and hearing about all the cool stuff they got – when you’re little there’s no connection between the birth of Jesus and getting presents from a fat guy in a red suit – you just want some presents too. It’s all you’ve heard about for a whole month! You sang Christmas Carols in school, you did the Christmas pageant, you saw all the lights, heard all the excitement of your friends counting down until Christmas. So, why wouldn’t I be getting presents? Oh yeah – because I don’t celebrate Christmas – not technically anyway.

For many years this is how it went down – I can remember the first time I helped my friend Kara and her family decorate their Christmas tree. I remember it being kind of fun, and thinking the ornaments were pretty. I also remember when Kara dropped a box of Christmas balls and cried when she got in trouble for breaking them. I think they were her grandmother’s, which meant her mother was not pleased. I also remember going away to university and asking my parents to send me a Menorah so I could light candles in my dorm room for Hanukkah. We never really did this as a family, but for some reason I felt like doing it, and my Mom happily obliged, sending me my grandmother’s Menorah, the one that used to sit in the windowsill of their house. I still have it, and every year I light the candles, sometimes I miss a day, sometimes they don’t get lit when they’re supposed to, but I do it, not because I believe in anything in particular, or really celebrate any religious holidays, but because I know my grandmother would have done it, and she’d probably like that I was still using the old Menorah. There’s no connection for to “religion” per se, but with my family. While millions of other people are putting up trees and taking their children to sit on Santa’s knee I’d light a candle for my grandparents-  and why not? It’s probably the most “religious” thing I do all year.

My experience with Christmas has changed over the last ten years, but bitterness over the endless rounds of Christmas music and the empty wallet that comes every December sometimes rears its head. I can probably blame some of this on having worked in retail for many years – you’ve never really experienced the commercialism of Christmas if you haven’t worked a retail job for the month of December. Wow – you’ve never seen so many people buying so much stuff just to try and show someone they love them. But it’s not just that – it’s to buy presents for people because you think you have to, and there’s the buying of presents for people they don’t even like, and there’s even buying of presents for themselves (come on, you’ve heard someone say “I bought it as a Christmas present to myself”). It’s not an easy time of the year to be stuck behind a cash register, no matter what religious category you fall under – but yeah, I would have been the cashier that gave you a funny look if you said you to me “Why didn’t you wish me a Merry Christmas?!” This happened to me once, and I actually replied to a customer “Because I’m JEWISH.” I also refused to wear reindeer antlers at my job, and when my boss asked “Why?!” I replied “Because I’m JEWISH.” Thankfully this was enough in a work environment to be let off the hook – really the reason was a mixture of the whole Jew-thing and the fact that I think they’re ridiculous (sorry, but I do). The result of all of this? My bitterness towards Christmas mounted, getting larger with ever retail year. I sometimes had a hard time “getting it” – this whole Santa thing, and how it got wrapped up (no pun intended) with the whole Jesus thing. I’ve seen those “put the Christ back in Christmas” signs, and wondered how things got so seemingly disjointed from the birth of “the saviour.” Wasn’t this supposed to be about the manger, Joseph and Mary, those three wise men, that bright star, and some kind of life lesson about helping those in need? It seemed to me that it had more to do with buying stuff and lots of it.

Now, let me say that I’ve come to realize something that I think is important – beyond the exchange of gifts. I learned this lesson from Patrick and his family. Having spent ten Christmases with them they’ve helped to wear away at the bitter edges, and I see things differently than I used to. Take, for example, their Christmas tree. I’ve always kind of liked the whole tree thing, but I find their family tree particularly lovely because of the sentimental value behind their ornaments. Many of them are connected to family members, some of whom aren’t with us anymore, and decorating the tree is always bitter sweet. Then there’s the usual family debate between Patrick and his brother over tinsel on the tree – is it tacky, is it tasteful? Then there’s the delicious turkey dinner – and a traditional snap shot of everyone at the dinner table, as well as Patrick’s Mom usually forgetting to serve the stuffing inside the turkey (though I think last year she remembered, but it’s hit and miss). Now, there is an exchange of presents, and I have heard Patrick say that he loved when he was a kid and “the tree would be bursting with presents!” But it’s hardly as gluttonous as I would imagine the television ads are hoping for and quite honestly it’s more about the family gathering than anything else. In a sense it ends up being more like the Menorah, less about discussion of “religion” in the sense of being saved, or the divine, and more about the family connection and thankfulness for being happy and healthy. In the end it ends up being a lot like my experience of Jewish holiday’s than I would have thought. This is what I like, you can’t help but let some of the commercial bitterness go when you’re beside the twinkling Christmas lights on the tree while it snows buckets down in Ottawa and you watch your best friend spend time with his family.

What’s the point? Where did this even come from? I found myself in everyone’s favourite Dufferin Mall the other day and hear a ringing bell and someone yelling “Ho! Ho Ho! Merry Christmas!” That “someone” was a Santa wishing everyone a Merry Christmas. “It’s still NOVEMBER!” was my initial reaction and I felt my body tense up as I saw a guy dressed in a red Santa suit smiling. Then I pictured Patrick’s family tree, and thought about my own family and their “Christmas” tradition. It helped block out the commercial signs advertising expensive gift exchange and I think I felt my body relax- even if it was for a moment.

*Yes. I swear I wrote this- if you know me at all you might be wondering who this sap is, but it’s me. It probably won’t ever happen again, so take it while you can.