Christmas Noise

I’m having some trouble getting into the Christmas spirit this year. When people told me Christmas was depressing, I used to roll my eyes. How could anyone, I thought, especially a Christian, find such a joyous season depressing? But that was before. Now, apparently, I’m one of those people too. Because Christmas actually is a little depressing.

First, there’s the music and lights and all of that seems awesome until you realize that underneath it all is a rat race of commercialism that is actually exhausting. Everyone looks tired. Everyone that is, except the emplyees paid to not look tired (although they're the most exhausted of all,) employees working for companies who are grappling for the last dollars of Canadians who are, in average, grappling with  around $3500 of credit card debt. Canadians struggle everywhere to find the perfect items to mend their broken selves and broken families and broken relationships. The result is houses full of lots of things and stressed out people that can barely sit up straight because they’ve just worked over-time to pay for all of the things that are supposed to fix them.

                  And then, perhaps most depressing of all, is the charity mail. Charitable organizations attempting to seize the spirit of consumerism that haunts this time of year and use it to extract one last piece of humanity from the commercialized drones of our society before the new year hits. So we push through crowded malls knowing our bank accounts are empty, our houses are full of things we’ve never needed and if we were honest with ourselves, probably don’t even want, and all the while studiously ignoring the starving children on the front of our charity mail envelopes as we convince ourselves that our few dollars really wouldn’t make a difference and somehow justify another temporary yet expensive fix for the emptiness that haunts us.

                  The thing is, though, this has always been the case. I didn’t see it for a long time, but as I’ve grown up, it’s become increasingly obvious. And on their own, I’ve learned to studiously overlook them and adopt a cheery spirit like everyone else. This year, however, things are different. This year, for some reason, be it the elections, or the economy, or whatever, Canadians, as a whole, seem to have gotten really nasty. Maybe I’m reading the comment section of online newspapers too much, but the hate I’ve been exposed to these past few weeks has really squeezed the last few drops of Christmas spirit out of me. Many Canadians have stood up and made it clear that the one Christmas present they would not like, is Syrian refugees in our country. I’ve even seen people solemnly pledge not to “accept these people,” as though being an asshole is some sort of cure for social issues that just hadn’t occurred to anyone else yet. So Syrian refugees get to come here at Christmas and be exposed to disgusting amounts of hate and ignorance that our country should have abandoned years ago. They get to come in the middle of a supposedly Christian Holiday season and see that not only are we slaves to commercialism, we’re also slaves to prejudice and fear. They get to see that countries that celebrate Christian holidays aren’t very welcoming at all, and their first exposure to Christianity gets to be the judgment and ignorance that Christ preached against. They get to watch Canadians spend millions on useless fixes for internal brokenness while complaining that the country can’t afford refugees at all. They get to see a societal faction (Canadian Christians) so riddled in debt, both monetary and emotional, that they claim to love God while refusing to accept the needy.  Refugees will arrive broken from war and terror and be faced with the spiritual brokenness of a nation upon their arrival. What are we, as both a nation and a Christian community, becoming?

So, brothers and sisters, I’m going to end this with a plea. Please help me bring the Christmas spirit back. Overcome fear in the spirt of a loving Father who was brave enough to send his only son to save you. Overcome hate with the knowledge that were it not for bravery and second chances, your religion, or relationship, or whatever it’s cool to call it now, would not exist. Let’s follow the example of the wise-men and look upwards for guidance. There probably won’t be a star showing us where to go, but there will be planes of Syrian refugees flying in, and if we’re really following Christ’s example, I think we can figure out what to do with those.