Detailing the Keeping of Christmas

Forewarning: What follows is lengthy, but uniquely and necessarily so. 

In my last post, I argued that a return to the Christian Christmas in our culture and, moreover, to a Christian culture in general, requires an immersion of the Christian in Christian time, in the Holy Ground of the liturgical seasons. Our culture has a Christian nature, formed through and in time. Rather than fighting in the secular Christmas season and on its terms, the War on Christmas and for the culture can only be won by the individual’s return to these Christian grounds.

I offer in what follows practical ways for the individual and the family to restore the full observance of Advent and Christmas. These suggestions born from my own experience are lengthy because they are detailed. I write with such detail because the greatest temptation derives from the busyness and noise of the secular season. Paying careful attention to lost traditions and to the call of Christian time seems frivolous and simply “extra work” in light of the other demands of the secular Christmas. Therefore, I give details that I hope will guide people on each step of this return to camp. Additionally, I provide these ideas at this time of the year so that the reader might ruminate on these revisions in light of their recent Christmastime and come to cultivate, throughout the year, a willing desire to guard against secular temptations next November and to prepare for active implementation of some of these changes.

First I wish to deal with the spiritual, and this can be brief. A book of Advent meditations is crucial to restoring Advent observance in one’s life, for such a book recalls us to the reality of the season on a daily basis, preparing us for the onslaught we will face in advertisements and the media. I highly recommend this series from Liguori Publications.

Next, as far as symbols and traditions are concerned, the Advent Wreath provides an almost irreplaceable center for the season. But since the Advent Wreath had been an inveterate practice in my house, the most influential change my family has made during the past two Advents has been the Christmas tree. The most traditional relationship between the iconic evergreen and the season would ask that we cut down and decorate the tree on Christmas Eve. However, perhaps this is a bit of an uprooting change from our modern traditions, especially if one has young children. Instead, to ward off the shock of leaving the house suddenly barren for most of December, our family adopted the approach of a former professor of mine. During Gaudete Sunday (the Third, "Rejoicing" Sunday of Advent), we have a miniature celebration of anticipation by setting up the Christmas tree; but we decorate it only with white lights and a single purple ribbon that spirals around the tree. The tree makes present an increasing brightening in the house and follows the order of the Advent season in growing anticipation. It complements but does not overwhelm the Advent Wreath. If one has young children, each child could add one ornament each day of Advent, imitating the tradition of an Advent Calendar. By Christmas Eve, the tree is decorated and then lit after Midnight Mass.

One of the things I have hoped to pass on in this pair of posts is a few helpful principles for implementing changes conducive to the proper observance of Advent and Christmas. The Christmas tree affords the opportunity to point out one such principle of meaningful but gradual changes: Don't go cold turkey, especially with children. Unroll these changes over two seasons or so. Moreover, always explain and keep in mind why these changes are being made. For instance, several members of my family were "sad" or "down" when they looked at the "Advent" tree on December 23^rd and thought how empty and dark the house seemed. My response was that this was exactly how they should have felt: restless, a little empty, eager. The Advent season prepared us for the re-realization of the Incarnation in both the world and our life by imitating a world and life devoid of our Savior. It calls us to review our lives and make this sacrifice of absence in a similar way to Lent's demand for "patience, penance, prayer." The somewhat desolate yet hopeful tree, "bedecked with jewels" and cloaked in a "dirty, purple" ribbon, unite the Bride of Christ—the Church—to the Cross of Christ in His Incarnation, Passion, and Resurrection, all of which will soon be celebrated in the procession of the Church's new liturgical year. We must be gradual and explicative of meaning as we return to our holy territory in the War on Christmas.

Another change that was made was the division of all of our Christmas music into playlists of "Advent/pre-Christmas" and "Christmas." Especially with today's digitalized storage of music, the assembly of separate playlists for Advent and Christmas is very easy, if one will take about an hour to do so. From the first Sunday of Advent, we listened only to Advent music or secular carols singing of the coming of Christmas…and of Santa, for we need not strip the season of all its secular traditions, but rather return them to their proper place and time. "O Come, O Come Emmanuel," "It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas," and "Santa Clause is Coming to Town" were all found, among others, on our pre-Christmas playlist. Of course, to follow these playlists almost rules out the radio; but perhaps that is all the better. And like the Advent tree, listening to a more selective list of songs leading up to Christmas, devoid of some of the most beautiful in the Christmas genre, leaves one longing, slightly bored, and eager for the trumpets to blast "Hark the Herald Angels Sing!" And when they do at Midnight Mass, when the church is filled with the most majestic and royal of religious Christmas hymns about that very night on that very night, when "O Come All Ye Faithful" truly calls all we faithful to the celebration of that midnight hour at that midnight hour and for the first time that season, what insuperable Christmas joy does one find, akin to that of the shepherds and angels, those shepherds who had lived dull, barren, lonely, and dark lives! What a reward for a season well-kept and how much more closely are we drawn to the reality of the Incarnation!

Regarding other decorations, a crèche may be set up indoors or out, but refrain from placing the Infant Jesus in the manger until you celebrate with the church that same beloved action of His Blessed Mother. And set the Magi off in a different part of the room or yard until Epiphany: have a little geography in your home, a Bethlehem here and a Persia there.

Until the Christmas decorations are put up, one could adorn the house with simple swatches of purple, either in ribbon or ornaments or candles. As for Christmas decor, follow the two-year plan: decorate on the third or fourth Sunday of Advent the first year and on Christmas Eve the next. And rediscover the real. Use real garland and holly and ivy and mistletoe (and do use the mistletoe!). Growing and making your own real decor may be a long-term practice to consider, for it enables us to apply our physical effort and time to the adornment of our home for Christ, like Joseph at the workbench or he and his wife on the difficult journey to Bethlehem. Tie our lives to the life symbolized in such greenery. Regarding baked goods, wait. Wait at least until Christmas Eve. In fact, Advent might very well involve some sort of fasting. But the Twelve Days of Christmas are meant to be a tremendous feast, as the centuries testify to.

I will admit that refraining from saying "Merry Christmas" during Advent, and during your Christmas shopping, may be too much of a retreat from opportunities to evangelize others and the culture. Nonetheless, as ridiculous as it may sound to our modern ears, wishing someone a "Blessed Advent and Merry Christmas!" may be an adequate replacement for "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year" or, more definitely so, "Happy Holidays." A puzzled look for a response may be the beginning of awakening our culture from its numbness to its Christian heritage. Besides, an explanation, if someone asks, is easy and charitably provoking.

So much for the active keeping of Advent. Now for Christmas, the Twelve Days of Christmas, that tremendous festival and feast.

Christmas cards and Christmas parties are called "Christmas" for a reason. I now write and send Christmas cards during the Twelve Days of Christmas, dating them as whatever day of Christmas on which I happen to write. Yes, it makes for a bit busier time after Christmas in this one respect. But should not our token gifts of thought and time for our friends and family receive proper attention, set apart from the hubbub of the supposed secular “preparation” for Christmas—where Christmas cards are tempted to be sloppily and mechanically written and hurriedly postmarked—and instead settled into a time of rejoicing and rest in which our minds can wonder and love more clearly and completely? The same principle applies to Christmas parties. The Christmas season calls for great and numerous celebrations, especially the famous "Twelfth Night" party. Move Christmas gatherings to December 25 and thereafter. 

It is also important, I have found, to resurrect some bygone traditions that are not of an explicitly religious nature. For instance, this Christmastime my family roasted chestnuts over an open fire, hung wet socks from shoveling snow or ice skating from the fireplace mantel to dry by the fire, and strung cranberries and popcorn for the Christmas tree. Song, game, and story can also be researched and revived, such as the learning and singing of the "Twelve Days of Christmas" and the Christian meaning behind each set of gifts; "Good King Wenceslas" on the Feast of St. Stephen (December 26); and "Christmas in Killarney" or "Auld Lang Syne." And these latter two touch on rediscovering the Christmas traditions of one's ancestry and the shared viewing of classic Christmas movies, respectively. These old traditions may not have any formal relationship to the liturgical calendar, but they can complement, in fun ways, the return to an older order of December life for the Christian, especially during the suddenly depleted Advent season. Next year I hope to have a Yule Log and make wassail ale. Of course, during all these festivities of the Twelve Days of Christmas, including the drinking and eating and merrymaking, the Christmas playlist should be played in the background and certain songs may only begin to tire by the 6th of January rather than by the Feast of St. Nicholas.

Finally, one ought not neglect to observe the entire Christmastime, for the Christmas season actually continues through both the Twelve Days and Epiphany until the Baptism of Jesus, the Sunday following Epiphany. This part of keeping Christmas demonstrates an especially clear instance of what I find to be the inherently human effect of the liturgical calendar on our very beings. Advent, properly observed, is like Lent and calls for reflection, prayer, and preparation for His coming. We are seeking again to be transformed by the Creator entering into the created world and the consequences of this very real event for all mankind. By Christmas, we hope to have allowed our souls to be transformed into, as Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote, "New Nazareths, where she may yet conceive Him/Morning, noon, and eve,/New Bethlems, and He born there/Evening, noon, and morn." We rejoice for His coming and hope for His return. We find living the Christian life during this season just a little more natural, a little sweeter to the will as the object of our being is re-presented. But then, in following the secular celebration of Christmas, all suddenly stops and charity and newness of life seem to be confined to the Christmas season only.

Not for the Christian. The transformation that has flowed over our hearts and homes, our relationships and faith, our minds and wills by the proper observance of the liturgical seasons, this total experience is meant to become a permanent part of us. In a sense, Christmas is to be carried in our very beings to every day and situation throughout the year, throughout our lives. After Epiphany, the carols are tested to see if their melodies have been entwined in our hearts. The wishes of good will are tested in a return to the common place. In these last days of Christmas, as we slowly begin to take down the decorations and to turn down the music, we are gradually and gently moved by the liturgical motion of our mother's caressing arms back into the everyday. “Keeping Christ in Christmas” by “keeping Advent and Christmas” keeps Christ in us and in our culture. It allows us to radiate Him to others, to spread the Christ in CHRISTmas through us to others. 

True faithfulness to Advent and Christmas first provokes the culture and causes a mess in the modern order of things. Out of this mess can arise that daily and everlasting dialogue of Christian love that our world so desperately and so continuously needs.

It is my hope that, by sharing these tips from my attempts to return to a fuller observance of Advent and Christmas, others might find themselves pining for such a return next year. And while an increasing number of traditional Christians have given voice to the need for such a return, I hope that the details of my experience can lend practical guidance to others, that they and our world may fully experience the wisdom and transforming joy of Advent and Christmas, and that we may win the War for Christmas and our culture on Holy Ground.