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A holiday season without religion?
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Christmas Baby Unwrapped
I was born and wrapped up for adoption on Christmas. Sharing my birthday with the radical Palestinian Rabbi made me proud for many a season. In some ways he became my adopted brother. Studied the old stories cover to cover. Went into ministry, chaplaincy with "outcasts and sinners" in true Nazarene style. A pastor said I was "doing the work of Jesus" about as much as anyone. Raised my daughter to think for herself. We celebrated Christmas, Hanukkah and my birthday. Along the long path I left the Church, the faith and ministry. Now I'm a Freethinker (thank you Thomas Paine, and John Muir, and John Burroughs) who is "just" a social worker, who "just" directed a homeless shelter, who is "just" a teacher and writer, husband and father. I celebrate with family and a few friends, but mostly, by getting into the forest, out to the ocean or up to the mountains to be grateful for Nature's gifts. My longest tradition is to Climb a tree on my birthday! Sure gives you another perspective up there. This time of year could be a wonderful time for us all to rest, reflect and rejuvenate in the season when so many creatures hibernate. There is a great light at this time of year, but it's not comiing from cut trees or the dark eyes of dead birds on a table. It is the light of the Solstice, of the delightful and delicious beauty all around us, free and without warranty or debt. The story of the Bethlehem Baby continues to inspire, along with the stories of other great thinkers and doers throughout history. He didn't believe like the pious and self-righteous--or act like them-- and, in my opinion, he would never identify as a "Christian"--he would be left out in the cold or crucified yet again, especially by those who pride themselves in using his name like a credit card. So, it seems, the little BB was, for the religious, a kind of Atheist, a Freethinker, who decided to live close to the beauty of Nature among those who are the outsiders and misfits. I will proudly stand outside along with them, and with the little one, way out there in that dirty, despised manger. The homeless one, the gay one, the immigrant one, the mentally ill one. . .I'll be thinking of them up there, up in my Christmas tree.
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