bah humbug

At the risk of repeating myself, I learned a lot about myself while living in Turkey this last year. One of the things I never expected to learn was this:

I find Christianity really comforting. That might sound truly bizarre coming from me. I am, after all, the girl endlessly fascinated by all things corrupt about the Church and its followers. I could barely contain my zeal in high school when I got to write a paper on the Gnostic Gospels and explore some of the truly wild hijinks in papal history. I dedicated my senior year of college to reading and writing about how twisted the Genesis story became in the hands of St. Peter's flock. My bookshelf is littered with massive tomes about my pal Lucifer. He almost became a tattoo, before I realized it might invite some negative attentions... But there's no way around it. I love churches. I seek them out when I'm far from home and feeling lost. I follow a few Christian scripture boards on Pinterest and love talking to people about their faith when we agree to be nice. I love the stories in Christianity. Surely as a result of growing up in the U.S., they feel normal. They feel like the ground upon which I walk, even if I disagree with so much of that ground.

Turks regularly shocked me with their ignorance of Christianity and the Western culture it has infiltrated. My friend Chip sent me a message yesterday describing a conversation he had with the head of his department at the university where he teaches. The university has given all of their foreign staff New Year's Eve off because it is a "religious holiday." Chip explained to his (Muslim) boss that the New Year is not a religious holiday, but that December 25th, Christmas, is very much one. His boss looked confused and admitted he didn't know the difference. Chip doesn't know that I had this exact conversation with several of my students last year. Turks told me families with some expendable income will often buy a Christmas tree for New Year's. Santa comes on December 31st if he comes at all.

Huh?

It's not like Muslims don't know about Jesus. They name their boys after him frequently. In Turkish, Jesus is "Isa," and I had at least three of them as students. But they don't love Jesus. His miracles are merely part of a long line of cool shit prophets have done. Mama Mary is totally lost on them. From my experience, (Turkish) Muslims shun the supernatural with shocking skepticism, so I can't imagine how they view Jesus' birth what with the manger, the angel, and the wise men. They probably just see it as a lot of European pageantry. Gold bling and an excuse for gifts and time off from work. (I'm sure this makes me a huge ass, but I still think Islam has a scandalous lack of holidays and/or mandated fun time.)

Anyway. I've gotten a lot of flack from some of my coworkers (and my mom) about my grinchy approach towards Christmas this year and it's taken me a while to understand it, myself. I don't hate Christmas. I don't hate Christmas songs. I think Santa's cool, and I can even get behind the life-size illuminated plastic crèche lawn ornaments a few of my neighbors are sporting this season. We all know I adore making, sending, and receiving Christmas cards. Cookies are delicious. So what is it that gets my goat? I think it's the falseness. Christmas in very sunny, mild Los Angeles is such a sham. Glittery gold skunks would be more appropriate than the jumbo reindeer lining Lake Street. I see people at work every day buy gifts for people merely because I put an object in their hands and they feel an obligation to spend a certain amount. There's so little thoughtfulness. Carols are piped into supermarkets and cafes and travel bookstores and people hum them listlessly. Everything - wrapping paper, boozy cocktails, Christmas trees - seems so disposable.

In my dictatorship, Christmas should mean something. Even if you don't buy into the story. Even if you aren't a God-fearing Christian. Sing those songs with some soul! Eat those cookies with gusto! Love your friends passionately! Cook delicious food! Hug your cat a little bit tighter than usual! Open doors for people! Don't blow a fuse at the post office because some moron ahead of you didn't fill out an address label before she got there! Say please and thank you! Drink and be merry! These are basics, people.

My favorite Christmas song.