The Oregon Skeptic

At this time of year it seems common to hear people asking “Why do you celebrate Christmas?”. Implied in this, of course, is the idea that Christmas is a holiday for Christians, and that by celebrating the holiday one is glorifying the Christian mythology. Seems straight forward if you’ve never truly examined your beliefs, but I have a handful of things to point out that will hopefully make you think.

1 – Let us put aside the lack of evidence for the existence of Jesus, and look at the stories surrounding his birth. According to the gospel of Luke, Jesus was conceived when John was about 6 months along, and John was conceived during something called Abijah – which happened during the first half or so of June. Add six months to get to December, and the mythological conception of Jesus, and another nine months puts us in late August or September.

In addition, the lack of available lodgings for Joseph and Mary point to an influx of pilgrims to the region. We know of no reason for such a gathering during December, but in September – after the harvest was mostly in, marking the beginning of the fall festival season – there is plenty of reason to believe that the inns and hostels would be full up.

Finally, the presence of shepherds out in the fields with their flocks definitely rules out the winter months, when sheep would have been corralled and not let out to pasture. What does this all mean? Really what it means is that if you celebrate Christmas, you’re NOT actually celebrating the birth of Jesus. Or at least, you’re not doing it on his birthday. Contrary to what some say, the idea that the date was set to coincide with pagan holidays to ease the transition into Christianity is not proven. It certainly makes sense, but there does not appear to be any evidence to support that claim. The oldest known reference to the event on that date is a calendar drawn in 354 AD (none of the original is known to be in existence).

2 – Now that we’ve established that celebration on that date is not inherently in support of Jesus, let us look at the trappings of the holiday: Decorated Trees, Gift Giving, Hanging Stockings – none of these items is inherently related to the mythological birth of Jesus.

The origins of the Christmas tree are in some doubt, but appear to come from German traditions. Some hold that the tradition came when “Saint Boniface” cut down the tree of Thor to prove a point to the Germanic tribes, and years later found a fir tree growing in the roots of it. It seems an obvious connection can be made between tree decoration and pagan traditions surrounding the winter solstice holiday, but no documentation exists.

The practice of gift exchange comes from the ancient Roman practices of Saturnalia – a multi-day festival celebrated around the winter solstice. Amusingly, it was banned by the catholic church during the middle ages due to its pagan origins, but was re-instituted as a way to more closely associate the holiday with St. Nicholas.

Again we are confronted with a tradition with no documentation, but the legend surrounding the hanging of stockings goes something like this: There was a father with three beautiful daughters in a village, but they were very poor. Saint Nicholas happened through town, heard their story and wanted to help, but knew the man to be a proud individual who would not accept charity, so he took three pouches of gold coins and climbed through their chimney. Looking for a likely place to leave his gifts, he spied the girls’ stocking hung near the fireplace and placed the pouches – one in each – in the stockings and left quietly the way he had come.

The legend goes on a little to say the girls were overjoyed, and could finally marry and live happily ever after. Is it true? No idea. I doubt it – who would bother climbing through a chimney, even if it was big enough. It seems clear though that the basis for this tradition is greed – the hope of some mysterious benefactor providing you with wealth.

Other traditions are less widespread, but all of them point to origins prior to and outside of Christianity, usually to pagan Germany or Rome. Clearly the trappings of Christmas have little to nothing to do with the mythical Christ.

There is one tradition – midnight mass on Christmas Eve – which is specifically related to the holiday. This particular tradition, while associated with the day itself, is generally not a main cultural component of the celebration (this is not to say that people don’t do it, just that people don’t generally talk about it in conjunction with the holiday).

3 – Having now effectively removed the Christian mythos from the celebratory events surrounding the holiday, we can look at the meaning behind them. A lot of this part is speculation and interpretation on my part, but…

The Christmas holiday is supposed to be a celebration of all that is good in mankind, with particular emphasis on altruism in the form of gift giving, represented by the mythological Santa Claus (a magical (human-) being who exists in order to provide presents to all the world’s children one day a year).

It is also, to a lesser and failing extent, a refutation of greed. We idealize the examples of those individuals who sacrifice of themselves, but we still think it a “sacrifice” when a child writes a letter to Santa and asks for peace on earth as though they were giving up the toys they would have gotten – as though it were some entitlement for them to get things for the holiday.

We try and use the opportunity presented by the holiday to promote altruism, and denigrate greed by saying things like “It’s not getting gifts, but giving them…” and other such clichés. It can also be a bloody good time.

The Answer

All this is just background for the original question: Why do you (an atheist/agnostic/non-believer) celebrate Christmas?

The answer is four-fold. In the primary, Christmas is not an inherently Christian holiday because it’s trappings and date have little/nothing to do with the mythological Jesus. Secondarily, being an American, this is the holiday of supremacy – that is to say there is a cultural inertia in celebrating this holiday vice Chanukkah, Sol Invictus, Saturnalia, or Kwanzaa. The holiday has virtuous meaning in the promotion of altruism and denigration of greed, for tertiary. Finally and quaternary, it’s just bloody fun.

Understand, please, that I’m not attempting to tear down Christianity by trashing “their” tradition – I’m trying to explain why it’s okay for non-believers to celebrate Christmas. For the non-believers, you don’t need to feel guilty for celebrating it under any name, be it Christmas, Krismus, Santa Day, Festivus, or whatever (I like Krismus myself because it’s non-confrontational, but Festivus is right up there).

I happen to live in the 4th district in Oregon, where we’ve been lucky to have an independent liberal democrat representing us in the form of Mr. Peter DeFazio since 1986. One of the things I like most about Mr. DeFazio is that every time I shoot an email to his office someone responds directly (I’m not sure whether or not he answers himself of has staff do it with some canned answers, but either way I think it’s awesome). This year, riding on the coat-tails of the conservative energization, Pete has a little competition.

Art Robinson is a Californian transplant, and a chemist who worked with Linus Pauling – a scientist most remembered for being one of only two individual winners of Nobel prizes in two separate categories (the other is Marie Curie). If you know the Linus Pauling story, you know that toward the end of his life, most of the scientific community started to write him off as a kook – he became one of the biggest names supporting high dosages of vitamin C as a cure-all (a concept which was studied and dismissed and which Pauling championed anyway).

Most recently Art Robinson has gained notoriety for founding the Global Warming Petition Project – a conservative movement to deny the reality of anthropogenic global climate change. He also founded the Oregon Institute of Science and Medicine. Much of his platform rests on normal conservative standards, and takes advantage of the Tea Party anger at “the establishment”. Mr. Robinson’s website uses vague language which sounds good but doesn’t really indicate any actual plan.

Robinson’s site makes logical jumps based on over-simplifications of highly complicated issues, and yet when Rachel Maddow quotes his writing directly he refuses to answer simple questions and returns accusations of liberal media slander (Wait, why did you agree to the interview?).

Just about the only things I can see agreement with him on are the expansion of nuclear power, and maintaining the Constitution as the basis of the country. He also thinks that we should deport all illegal immigrants, repeal as many taxes as possible, overturn the Health Care bill, and eliminate “many government agencies” – Department of Education and Environmental Protection Agency have been suggested.

I get the impression that Art has seized upon the knee-jerk reactions of many conservatives to these issues, and hasn’t bothered to think through what would happen if he got his way, nor contemplated how these things he wants to change came to operate in the way that they do. Unfortunately, I don’t foresee him listening to arguments which contradict his position. While he makes one or two good points on his website, I haven’t heard a single useful argument coming from his mouth in speeches, nor do I think he displays the mental flexibility needed to serve in the US House of Representatives.

I’ve been reading, and have now nearly finished, the published memoir of Christopher Hitchens – Hitch-22, and it has gotten me to thinking. The latest section I have completed was his section regarding an inspiring fellow named Mark Daily. In short, Mark was an aspiring writer and journalist who was influence by Christopher’s prose regarding moral justification of the war in Iraq, and a member of the US Army, who was killed in action in Iraq in 2007.

Those who know me, know that I spent six years in the Navy, serving aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln from 2003 to 2007 after finishing my training. I arrived just in time to be present for the initial volleys in Operation Iraqi Freedom. I don’t think I’ve ever really formed a solid opinion on that operation. When I was there, I was supportive because I thought of Saddam as a “bad guy”, and I didn’t really consider what justified our assault on foreign soil. I never stepped foot on Babylonian soil to see the masses of the Iraqi people greet the American soldiers with smiles and waves, nor did I see the devastation in the aftermath of the Ba’athist assaults of the Kurdish settlements. I never experienced the repressive atmosphere of the tyrannical dictator, nor the joy on the faces of the southern Marsh Arabs when the American soldiers released the waters back to the marshes which Saddam had dried out.

What I did do, was float in a nervous sardine can in the sweltering heat of that tropical gulf. I say nervous because we, the lowly enlisted, didn’t know whether or not Iraq had chemical weapons to launch at us, nor whether Iran would get it in their minds to attack us while we were “distracted” with Iraq. We were nervous and afraid, and did our best to forget it by hardly ever talking about it – or elucidating bluster when required. Passing side by side with my brethren through the passageways of the ship, very few individuals acted nonchalant with regard to their personal gas masks – and I now think that perhaps those boys, nay men, were the most scared of us all. The threat of a chemical attack was for us quite real. I heard it said that the first indication that we’d been gassed was most likely going to be the flight deck commander up in the bridge looking down on the flight deck and noticing any number of those we called “skittles” (sometimes derisively, sometimes with affection) suffering from the first effects of any chemical agent.

Needless to say, this did not inspire confidence.

In any case, I had no idea just exactly how badly the Ba’athist party leadership was treating its country, and so as my time in the service slowly and (not so) subtly altered my views on the world and life – making me immensely more sarcastic and cynical – I was more concerned with the fatuous justification for the war in the first place and my (and my brothers’) miserable experiences while prosecuting this action. As I find out more and more about the pre-war conditions in Iraq, and the unresponsive nature of the regime to international pressure, I find myself more and more not really caring about the justification, and increasingly feeling pride for what we’ve done as a nation – removing a cruel, petty, and quite possibly raving tyrant from power and freeing a previously alien and enemy people to pursue their dreams.

Clearly for me, something has changed. When I left the Navy, the term “shipmate” was a curse among those of us who were nukes (personnel who maintained and operated the nuclear power plants at the heart of that floating airport). I now am beginning to call those men with whom I served, even the ones I didn’t know personally, by the affectionate if abortive term “brother”.

Is it our responsibility as the only superpower country remaining to “police” the world, removing those governments which we judge to be evil? I don’t know, particularly since I still have no warm fuzzies about the motives of the elite people who tend to get elected into public office, and who are we to judge anyway? I think perhaps that OIF was spurred more by desire for oil than by any sympathetic feelings of solidarity with our downtrodden Iraqi cousins. On the other hand, I worry terribly about what will happen when – not if – one of these theocratic dictatorships, like Iran or North Korea, gets their hands on the material and technology for creating those most destructive of devices – the nuclear bomb. Should we abortively remove the Shah of Iran from power? Should we hasten Kim Jong Il’s shuffle off this mortal coil? And what of nations where there is absolutely no clear or present danger to ourselves? Should we intervene militarily in Cuba, Lybia, or Sudan? I think that perhaps we need to consider this idea very closely.