Okay. Enough time has passed now that we can look back on the Christmas Crazies with a sigh of relief. Sort of. What are the Christmas Crazies? Just think back six weeks or so and it will all come rushing back to you. Oh, yeah! Those Crazies. We all have them. For example, running out of Scotch tape at 11 p.m. on Christmas Eve. Or receiving clothing gifts that you sincerely loathe but will be expected to be seen wearing in the new year. Or finding that every single clothing gift that you gave doesn’t fit anyone you so carefully shopped for.
Then of course there is the Family Problem. We all have those pesky relatives who make things so difficult. You spent last Christmas Eve with your in-laws, so this year . . . no, wait a minute. You spent last Christmas Day with your in-laws. Didn’t you? This is important because whichever set of grandparents ends up with Christmas Eve feels slightly cheated because they don’t get to share the excitement of their grandchildren’s Santa presents. Better call your spouse. This could be a problem. It’s crazy.
Or maybe you are doing Christmas Day this year for your whole family, but Aunt Rachael and Aunt Emma aren’t speaking to each other so you can’t invite both of them. And Uncle Henry is furious with your cousin Tony because he just got a DUI so they can’t sit anywhere near each other and you hope no one mentions the DUI. What a shame for all that tension, too, because you just bought a lovely new lace tablecloth for your Christmas table no one will even notice. Damn! It’s crazy.
The possible permutations of these family squabbles approach infinity. All families have them. Let’s say you’re fourteen and you get the same video game from three different people. And you already have it! How can adults be so lame? Don’t they talk to each other? Damn! It’s crazy.
Then there are so many decisions to make. A biggie is should you go with a real tree this year or a fake one? Support tree-farm owners or buy the nice-looking imitations? Real trees no longer smell like trees any more anyway. Hmmm. Tough call. Also, should you bitch-slap the next Santa that rings a bell in your face? Probably not. Do you want to? Hell, yes! But it is Christmas. On the other hand, if you have to hear one more Christmas carol you will in fact bitch-slap someone the moment they play “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” Who wrote that stupid thing anyway? What would a partridge be doing in a pear tree? And even if such a thing happened, how could someone “give it” to you? It’s crazy.
Or let’s say it’s two weeks before Christmas and you haven’t even started your shopping! How did that happen? Just yesterday you finally put away the good silver from Thanksgiving. Well, the economy is slow, so you figure you’ll head out to the mall on Tuesday, right at dinnertime. Maybe then you’ll find a parking space that’s at least in the same zip code as Wal-Mart. But no such luck. You end up on the third level, aisle G7. Okay. G7. That’s easy enough to remember. No time to write it down and besides, you don’t have a pen in your purse. Never mind. G7. So you gird your loins and plunge straight into the crowd of shoppers. Slow economy? Ha! Coulda fooled you! Everyone and his cousin is here this Tuesday. Well, no stopping now. It’s on!
Later, as you head back to your car you feel pretty good. You got almost everything done in one trip. Not bad. Just a few last-minute gifts to get later, and . . . wait a minute. Was it C7? No, G7. No, C7. Yes, C7. Boy, do your feet hurt. Well, damn! It was G7. Crazy. And speaking of crazy, who the hell waits until Christmas Eve to do Christmas shopping?! The store is swamped! You only have a couple things to pick up; but some of these people have bags and bags of stuff. Crazy.
Now might be a good time, since we’re pondering the imponderables, to pause and consider some of the other kind of Christmas Crazies. These are the more serious kind and deserve some real thought. They’re certainly as important as, well, G7. For example, Christmas celebrates the birth of Jesus. Fine. But when was that birth? Since the Gospels have discrepancies, scholars disagree on that date. It could have been anywhere from 17 B.C. to 7 A.D. There are numerous discrepancies between the Gospels but right now we’re just talking about Christmas. So when was that birth? No one can say for sure. Isn’t that a true Christmas Crazy?
Then there’s the problem of Jesus’ parents. The Virgin Mary was said to be the mother and the “father” was supposedly the Holy Ghost — God. But the first verse of the first chapter of the first book (Matthew) of the New Testament opens by tracing Jesus' lineage back to King David and Abraham, which is important in fulfilling Old Testament prophesies. Jesus is always described as being “of the House of David.” Here’s the problem. From “Abraham begat Isaac” right down to Jesus, every generation is accounted for. However, all the “begats” lead to . . . Joseph, Mary’s husband! This can’t be. Mary was said to be a virgin, so how could Jesus be related to David through his step-father, Joseph? Well, he can’t. This is a clumsy mistake on the part of the writer(s) of Matthew. It’s a real Christmas Crazy. Doesn’t work at all.
And of course we have the famous Star of Bethlehem. Supposedly it led the Three Wise Men to a specific dwelling (a stable) and not just a town. In order for something in the sky to do that it would have to be low enough to exist within the Earth’s atmosphere. And, since gravity works, any bright light that was that low would have to be a meteor, and if it landed on the Earth’s surface it would be a meteorite. But it could never have remained motionless (remember gravity?) long enough to guide anyone anywhere. And if it was a real star it would also have been unable to guide anyone anywhere. Stars are just too far away except to offer general guidance occasionally (northward, for example) but never specific enough to lead anyone to a structure. This mistake is not just another Christmas Crazy, but it reflects a primitive view of the skies and all things dealing with astronomy. It’s very silly, actually.
We must also consider the only recorded witnesses to the most amazing event in the history of humankind — the birth of the Savior. That of course would be the shepherds and the Three Wise Men. They all recognize a miracle, worship the Savior, and then disappear from the pages of the Bible forever. What sense does that make? Who were these people? Where did they go? And what about the billions of people who lived before this miraculous birth and/or in other parts of the world during this miraculous birth? They had no way of hearing about any of it. So where does that leave those people? Will they go to heaven or hell? This is an extremely important subject, but it’s never discussed. More Christmas Crazies.
Ironically, too, since Jesus was an observant Jew, it was the Jewish people who never accepted him, then or now. They never recognized him as any king or ruler or lord of anything or anybody. So why do all the carols and sermons refer to Jesus as King of Kings and Lord of Lords and all of that? He never ruled anything. Nor was his name Immanuel, as is mentioned so often in those same carols and sermons. I think we’re moving past Crazies and into the Twilight Zone.
But undoubtedly the most devious Crazy is what is not described in the telling of the nativity story. That would be from the most quoted account, the one in the book of Luke. When read or paraphrased or sung about, the story always ends with the shepherds praising God. However, immediately following the praising shepherds are four short verses that contain a whole lot of stuff going on there. (“Him” always refers to Jesus.) Luke 2:21-24 — “And when eight days were accomplished for the circumcising of the child, his name was called JESUS, which was so named of the angel before he was conceived in the womb. And when the days of her purification according to the law of Moses were accomplished, they brought him to Jerusalem, to present him to the Lord; (As it is written in the law of the Lord, Every male that openeth the womb shall be called holy to the Lord;) And to offer a sacrifice according to that which is said in the law of the Lord, a pair of turtledoves, or two young pigeons.”
So they cut off the tip of Jesus’ penis, named him Jesus (not Immanuel) after the angel he had been before being inserted in Mary’s uterus, and then Mary had to wait out her days of “purification.” Menstruation and childbirth make a woman dirty, so purifications rites are only natural. The baby was presented to the Lord and deemed “holy” since the first baby out of a woman’s body is considered holy (if it’s a male — now there’s a surprise!). And, finally, two birds are sacrificed to mark the occasion. You can see why these four short verses never appear in the glorious retelling of the glorious birth of the glorious Savior of the World. They represent embarrassingly primitive Bronze-Age thinking; but of course that’s when all of this supposedly happened — during the Bronze Age. I think it all fits quite nicely into any grouping of Christmas Crazies. Or the Twilight Zone.
And yet we modern humans have nevertheless managed to add our own Crazies to this now very long list. In addition to the ones already mentioned above, there are many more. We occasionally set our houses on fire by leaving dry Christmas trees in the living room too long with scented candles nearby. We allow our children to run wild on their enormous intake of sugar in the cookies and fudge and candies. You find yourself stressed out when you draw names at the office for gift-exchange and find that although you have purchased a very nice $20 scarf for someone, she gave you a $45 bottle of perfume. Guilt! And on and on it goes.
But at least it’s over and you survived, more or less, although Aunt Rachael isn’t speaking to you now either. Another Christmas casualty. After this, though, Valentine’s Day is going to be a snap. And next year you’re going to write down your parking space if you have to scrawl it on your forehead in lipstick and ask a stranger to read it to you.
Ah, yes, the Christmas Crazies for one and all. We go through it every year and swear it will never happen again. But it will. And just think. In nine months it starts all over again!
© 2012 Judith Hayes
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