Bill's Notes

Who isn't put off by the crassness, the consumerism and the hypocrisy surrounding Christmas? And I'm not one who goes spouting off about hypocrisy, but if you hate your brother, why are you getting him a gift without reconciling first? Are you supposed to gloss over the fact you've been a bastard to him, or that he's been a bastard to you, just for the sake of family peace? How deep does the bullshit have to get before someone says enough?

As far as holidays, I much prefer Thanksgiving, which is a holiday about sharing, and Easter, which is an overtly religious holiday about the conquest of death. Both very important things. The birth of God into the world is also important, but it seems to be a season that has gotten extremely, dangerously off-track.

The way I get through Christmas is a three-step process.

First I keep a very low profile: I completely ignore it until it can no longer be ignored. If I need to get gifts, I decide in advance what they are and get them without a fuss.

A second element is to give thanks to the people who are sharing themselves ... having Christmas parties, or spreading good cheer, or taking time to wish you a Merry Christmas, or sending you a card, or shaking your hand. The thoughtfulness and generosity of spirit is the best sign of Christmas, and the Holy Spirit acting in people's lives. Leaving the consumerism and the hypocrisy, and seeking the real, makes the season quite beautiful — and also quite brief.

A third element is to read the Christmas story (and go to Mass) (or watch the Charlie Brown Christmas Special, as Chris pointed out in the comments:

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.
And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.
And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.
And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.
And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.
And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.
And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds.
But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.
And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them.

Thanks be to God for saving us.

John Cole and some of his commenters are calling Christmas as a copy of a pagan festival, such as for Saturn; others are saying it's based on this or that ancient religion or holiday.

Here's Cole:

BTW- If this sort of thing does offend your delicate Christian sensibilities, let me issue a firm warning. Do not look into the pagan rituals you are eagerly engaging in, like cutting down a tree and decorating it, hanging a shrub in your hallway to kiss underneath, hanging other shrubs over your fireplace and above doors, placing wreaths on your door, the star worship, etc. And for the love of everything holy, you better not google Saturnis.

To which I say, as a Christian, "So what?" Not to paganism, but to the idea of a Christian doing similar things as a pagan. Cutting down a tree and decorating it? Shocking. Placing wreaths on doors? Diabolical. Mistletoe? Horrifying. Star worship? Huh? Uh, no one I know actually worships the star at the top of the tree, and if you do, yes, well, that would be pagan and clearly unChristian.

Anyway, here's my answer to all that: Christianity is about redemption. Redemption involves redeeming things, such as folk elements of pre-Christian religions. Once it becomes Christian, it's Christian. At one time, Christianity was made up entirely of former Jews and pagans. Did that make them any less Christian? Saul became Paul; the winter solstice festival became as good a day as any to celebrate the birth of Christ.

Why do non-believers think this is such a gotcha?

Yeah, we Christians know about this stuff and a whole lotta other stuff you toss at us as if we're a bunch of dolts. Give us a little credit.

"The circle always closes," a friend of mine used to tell me whenever I got impatient with someone who seemed to be getting away with murder, "if you stick around long enough."

The Hindus have a similar saying that's something along the lines of, "If you sit by the river long enough, you'll see the bodies of your enemies float by." And Ecclesiastes adds: "Time and circumstance happen to them all."

Recently I got closure on something that had become settled in my mind only for about a year. That's the way things work, though. Something bothers you for a long time, and in my case, an absurdly long time, and then it'll often go away on its own.

That's the partial-closure part. It's settled in your own mind, but it's like the final chapter of a story. The End — except you kind of need an epilogue.

In my case, I not only got an epilogue, I got all the backstory I was missing and so much info I stopped reading. The whole situation was pretty much as I figured, with no real salient differences. Except now it's even a bit funny. God bless the Internet.

This is cryptic, which I think is only fair to the parties involved. The details really don't matter. My sole point is to say, yes, the circle always closes — and usually after you've stopped caring. As Vietnam Vets like to say, "There it is."

As almost everyone knows by now, Steven Den Beste explains why he has stopped blogging here.

Francis P. has an outstanding tribute to SDB's toughness here"

He who perseveres in a demanding mission despite high personal costs and a shortage of indicators of success is demonstrating toughness. Steven Den Beste, no matter how sick he was, is, or might become, has proved that he's tough as nails.

At SDB's best [no pun intended], he reminded me of Montaigne in the sense that both men's essays were written in a style that showed a mind thinking in a logical and systematic way, as opposed to a mind arguing a conclusion already drawn.

I join the chorus of those offering thanks and well wishes to SDB.

Dean Esmay has a "best discussion" section on his blog. If I had a separate section for those, this discussion of chimeras would surely qualify.

Check it out if you haven't already. And register for comments if you're just a longtime lurker — we'd like your take on things, too, not just on this discussion but on others. Don't be shy.

I used to believe that I was a person who had extraordinarily bad luck. Then when I was 16 I decided that I was only unlucky in certain things, but lucky in others. Later, I concluded that I wasn't have problems with unluckiness as much as having difficulty interpreting events in their full context.

Which brings me to the flat tire I experienced this weekend. The tire was in terrible shape and was destined to blow. On Friday night, I was driving home in rush hour. On Saturday, I was on the PA Turnpike both up and back as well as in a moderately remote area of the Poconos. On Saturday night I was back in the Philly area and drove home late at night from a town to which I'd never been. As you know in this area yesterday was a little cold in the late morning and noon, and last night it snowed and was freezing, and this morning it is worse, windy and freezing and officially winter.

Guess when I got the flat tire? Right, in the late morning when we had the last vestige of fall. And it happened about 500 feet from my apartment, so I could go home and get help from a roommate. So one of the few times I was driving close to home, and on the warmest part of the weekend, and during the few hours when I had nothing to do, that's when I got a flat tire.

Why did I think I was unlucky? Well, I cut myself on the tire (watch frayed steel threads when removing a tire). I was on a narrow shoulder, and after all, I was almost home ... just another minute and I'd have been in my apartment complex's parking lot. And then my car wouldn't start after I replaced the tire. (Eventually, it did.)

This morning, I'm thinking what I've probably belabored. The tire was shot. If it had to go, it could've gone Saturday on the PA Turnpike at 90 miles an hour. Or Saturday night on the way home after a tiring day. Or this morning on the way to work. Instead, it went at the most opportune time for me to deal with it and not impact the rest of my weekend. That is, I was lucky.