In Defense of Santa Claus

For better or worse Santa Claus is the most commonly recognized symbol of our modern Christmas

For my own part the Santa symbol is one of love, joy, and good will. He fills the hearts and minds of children with awe, and love, and just a bit of magic. I have even written in the past that Santa presents the most positive aspects of divinity to children

For others, however, Santa is a troubling figure whom we are better of without.

Biblical Scholar Candida Moss, whose take downs of Bill O'Reilly and Sarah Palin are splendid, has turned her critical acumen against Santa Claus. 

According to Dr. Moss "Mr. Claus" has simply got to go. He is, she claims, just about the worst thing that could happen to Christmas and, perhaps even worse, the very symbol of the crimes of capitalism at its most rotten.

Despite her characteristic wit and charm (Dr. Moss expresses herself delightfully with virtually every sentence she writes, she is even more charming on video) one of her major arguments is rather weak. Moss claims that

Then there’s the disservice Santa does to religion. Even if Ole’ St. Nick didn’t spend so much time cultivating endorsements and trawling malls selling photo ops, it’s not clear that he would be beneficial for the religion to which he is attached. For children, Christmas is the undisputed high point in the religious calendar. Between the daily dose of advent calendar chocolate, opportunities for budding thespians to cut their teeth treading the boards in a nativity play, and, of course, the presents, Christmas has it all. In many ways Santa Claus shares top billing with the baby Jesus. And that’s if you’re going to church.
Then one day comes the truth. After spending years deceiving our children about the jolly man who brings presents, can we really say “Gee you got us, but that part about the Virgin giving birth to a child? Now that’s the real deal”? We’re hardly building trust here. We’re catfishing our children. Do Christians really want to bring religion into the rouse?

I find this line of reasoning particularly unconvincing. A great many modern theologians and Biblical Scholars (even a fairly large number of clergy and laity) do not take the Virgin Birth any more literally than they do Santa Claus. The story is symbolic, it conveys deep truths about who Jesus was, not biological facts about Mary's body.  Similarly, Santa Claus can be seen as a symbol of the joy and benevolence many of us associate with Christmas.

But perhaps I read Dr. Moss too literally here. She may mean only that we ought not to lie to our children and that doing so diminishes our credibility. I doubt this is so, and find it hard to imagine that any child has gone from learning the truth about Santa to distrusting their parents veracity and authority. It is also not clear to me that we cannot in anyway deceive our children, provided we do so for their own good. I don't think this criticism can stand.

If Christian parents are worried about Santa taking Christmas from Jesus, then they can simply emphasize that St. Nicholas was a Christian Bishop who served Christ above all else, and use that model of piety to inspire a similar veneration of The Good Lord in their children. There need be no conflict here. 

More serious is Moss' argument that Santa symbolizes the commercial Christmas that puts profits ahead of people and cheapens all values down to mere economic transactions.

That the modern Christmas is often a gaudy and sappy affair that reeks of cheap commercialism and pushes us into a vapid consumerist frenzy for a whole month of the year is indisputable. That the modern image of Santa Claus is, and has long been, deeply connected to this commercialism is equally obvious.

Indeed, this seems to be the heart of Moss' complaint against the Jolly Ole Elf:

Any five-year-old can see that rich naughty children are pulling down more than their fair share of the gifts. That’s if less affluent families can afford the luxury of purchasing gifts from a figment of the cultural imagination. When petulant rich kids get more presents than poorer angelic ones, it sends mixed messages. The historical St. Nicholas is said to have given money anonymously to poor children. The commercial Santa brings laptops to rich kids. What’s the lesson we’re teaching our children? Life’s not fair? The rules are different for rich people? Better learn the harsh realities of life early. 

But, despite the long and close connection between the two, the Santa Claus myth did not originate in advertising and consumerism. Moss herself acknowledges as much. The gift-giving St. Nicholas, and even the Jolly St. Nick of The Night Before Christmas, are hardly commercial figures.

Moss does, however, point out a problem with Santa Claus. It surely falls on us parents to be sure that we teach our children an image of Santa Claus that does not favor rich over poor, and that does not pitch commercial values over familial and personal ones.

We can do this by emphasizing Santa's selfless giving, stressing that he loves all children regardless of wealth, class, ethnicity, etc. We can tell our children to put others first and be selfless as Santa is.

How our children picture Santa Claus depends very greatly on how we portray him to them.

It seems to me that Moss entirely misses the joy, the awe, and even the sheer fun of Santa Claus. He is not simply a "sales pitch" and a challenge to Jesus. Santa is, at his best, a symbolic embodiment of goodness, generosity, and Christ-like unselfish love. His person and story can be made to impart these values to our children.

Symbols and myths can convey deep truths to the heart and mind. Once conveyed, such truths sit deeper than mere abstract reasoning can reach.

Simply telling children to care for others, to give with no thought of getting back in return, to love others, to give with joy in our hearts only does so much. But sharing with them a story, that they can later pass on to their children, may convey these truths more powerfully than simple statements ever could. 

As a scholar of religion, I'm sure that Dr. Moss can appreciate the value of symbol and myth to convey important truths that are, perhaps, best expressed in that manner:

Christmas Reflections: Light only Shines in Darkness

Christmas is - and has long been - a predominately commercial holiday. In other words, it is marketed, increasingly early and more forcefully with each passing yuletide, in order to make people buy things.

Because of this the holiday is typically presented as pure happiness; everyone feels good, everyone sings, and everyone has a great old time. I suppose that advertisers have long realized that a holiday bereft gloom, loss, struggle, and pain is a holiday best able to sell all manner of trinkets.

The fact is, however, that Christmas, like any other time of the year, has it share of sorrow, loss, and pain. Loved ones die, people divorce, homes are foreclosed, and jobs are lost.

Christmas (as marketed) cannot handle these tragedies. It's sappy sentimentalism and consumer driven "feeling good" is simply not equipped to deal with real suffering in life. People who are seriously soul searching and struggling with real human experience are at lot less inclined to consume.

This is Ironic.

Christmas is, both in symbol and in origin, a celebration of light in the darkness, warmth in the winter, hope in the shadow of fear. Ancient pagan festivals from which Christmas evolved, like Yule, Solstice, and Saturnalia, were all filled with symbols of triumph, joy, light, and life in the midst of a winter filled with death and darkness.

Coming at the darkest time of the year (in the northern hemisphere at least), when the world is cold, the trees bare, the ground frozen, and the elements harsh, Christmas is a reminder that in the face of death life persists, in the dark of night light can still be found, and that in the death of winter, there is still food to eat and warmth to warm us.

We have chosen to use only half of the holiday symbols. We think of the joy, the light, the warmth, and the cheer. But there is no joy without sorrow, no warmth without the cold, no light without darkness. In order to truly celebrate Christmas, we are going to have to keep the other aspects of the season before us.

One may argue, of course, that the holiday is meant as some form of escapism from the dark side of life. Sure, many think of it that way; the advertisers revel at that fact.

In reply I simply appeal to the history behind the holiday, both pagan and christian. We can reject those. We can buy into the the Christmas that makes retailers a fortune and drives us crazy with commercial-induced stress. But if we do we are leaving something deeper and more significant, for something sappy, cheaper, and far less meaningful.

By embracing the pain, suffering, and grief symbolized in the dark side of Christmas, we are leaving aside the shallow "cheer" of consumerism and cheap tinsel, for the deeper joy that results from what some might call a "tragic-optimism" or even, perhaps, a "tragic-romanticism."

To clarify what I mean, let us compare tragic-optimism and tragic romanticism, with their commercialized counterparts. The commercial brand of optimism tells us that all things are right with the world, that only "grinches" get sad during the holiday, and that if we just spend enough of our money at Hallmark and Target, Christmas will warm our hearts with its eggnogy bliss.

Commercial romanticism tells us that if we just put up the right decorations, buy the right "goodies" and follow the formula, we can have the kind of Christmas we had when we were 7 years old.

What I mean by tragic-optimism, on the other hand, is a view that life is hard. People die, dreams are broken, prospects fail to materialize. The tragic-optimist understands that great sorrow is an inescapable aspect of life, and we would be fools to deny that. But, despite this, the tragic-optimist finds existence ultimately joyful. Life is good, being is good, it is all worth it. In spite of all the pain and suffering, life is filled with joy. And this joy is not experienced in spite of pain and sorrow, but somehow, in part, because of it.

This is where tragic-romanticism comes in. Tragic-romanticism, as I understand it, is the appreciation that pain, sorrow, suffering, and grief can add to the joy of life, by making there opposites all the more potent and complete.

In searching for a Christmas image or song that exemplifies what I'm trying to express, I found myself drawn to the Judy Garland performance of "Have yourself a Merry little Christmas." [the story of this song fits in well with my position here, check it out] The song is filled with pain. And yet, somehow, one cannot miss the hope and triumph in Garland's voice.

Real optimism should never be confused with the attempt to delude ourselves that nothing bad is going to happen. Bad things will happen to us all. We cannot, and we ought not, downplay that. But hope, as opposed to delusion, is the conviction that it is all worth it. Despite the tragedies we must encounter in life, living is a beautiful and joyous thing. It is this kind of optimism, this genuine hope that Christmas should really be all about.

Christmas is indeed about being joyful and triumphant. But to know joy, we have to know pain, and to be triumphant we must conquer something, presumably the tragedy and pain in our lives

Should we still celebrate Thanksgiving?

The question of this post's title might seem totally irrelevant, since it seems that most of America skipped Thanksgiving and jumped right on to Christmas within minutes of the end of trick or treating hours on Halloween! But I think the question is relevant.

There are at least two possible objections to observing Thanksgiving: 1) Animal rights, and 2) the plight of American Indians.

The first objection, I suppose, would look like this: Our food production system is one of intensely cruel factory farming. Pigs, Cows, Chickens, and other livestock are treated so inhumanely, that is sickening. In light of this, can we really contribute to a holiday that asks us to consume so much animal product, thus supporting this cruel system?

That objection is rather easy to answer. We can, of course, have a vegan, vegetarian, or free-range & small family farm version of thanksgiving.

The second objection is more serious. Thanksgiving celebrates the founding of this county, symbolically at least. But was not this country, in part, founded by stealing land from American Indians, killing them off, and generally treating them with inhumane cruelty and treachery? Yes. Sadly it was.

Despite this, I don't think Thanksgiving has ever been about this tragic and sorrowful fact. It's simply a time for families and friends to gather together and be thankful. It need not, and I think for almost no one is, about how this nation wronged the American Indians.

Thanksgiving is a time to celebrate and rejoice in what we have, to express a profound gratitude for life and living; for friends, family, and other loved ones. It is the start of the Holiday season; the one time of year left in this country when we actually slow down our mechanical routines a little bit and celebrate what really matters in our lives.

So by all means celebrate tomorrow! Eat your Turkey (or Turkey substitute) and mashed potatoes, watch football, say grace, and retire for the evening comfortably full and happy. Despite the struggles in life, there is always something to be profoundly grateful for.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Bill Moyers on Memorial Day

The following video is from 2009 but it is still timely and relevant. Moyers' comments should help us to reflect more carefully on what memorial day is really about.

Here's the video:

St. Valentine's Day: Celebrate love and justice

A standard joke on American sitcoms is a single person, lonely on Valentine's Day, who says that the day is "nothing more than a bogus holiday dreamed up by corporate interests to sell greeting cards, candy and flowers." In fact, I once held this view myself (both when I was single and when I was in a relationship).

Obviously there is truth in this view of the holiday. Mass produced and overly sentimental "love" is largely what Valentine's day is in our commercialized culture. But - and I freely concede that being happily married to a wonderful woman has affected me here - I've come to see meaning and purpose in this holiday.

If we step back and think of this day as a day to set aside for the celebration of love, we shall see that it is well worth the observing. And I mean ALL LOVE. We love our family and friends, our lovers, and to some degree - when we are at our best - all of our fellow human beings. Having a day to recognize this love is important. Of course, the day loses meaning if we don't love the whole year around, but holidays serve as symbolic reminders that bring such truths to our consciousness.

Love is what is best about human beings. Yes, I know that we are also full of hypocrisy, hate, greed, and foolishness. And for this very reason it is all the more important that love be remembered, that love have the final say in our lives.

There are various legends and tales about a supposed St. Valentine. These tales come out of the later middle ages and the 19th century, and have nothing to do with any possible "Historical Valentine." Common to all the tales is the idea that either Valentine himself, or young people whom he as a priest married, were forbidden to love and wed by the forces of tyranny, oppression and empire. Valentine defies these powers and their laws, celebrating and sanctifying love. For his courage, Valentine is martyred.

The message in the tales of St. Valentine is that love liberates us. By loving each other we discover ourselves, and only then. This, in the legends of Valentine is why love is forbidden and why Valentine is proclaimed a hero for championing love against the power of empire.

Romantic love in particular is celebrated on this day. I used to hold that this was nothing more than a bias on our part. Privileging one kind of love over the others. Well, we do in fact misconceive and over sentimentalize romantic love (just as we do childhood). Nevertheless, romantic love unites two people like nothing else can.

Romantic love burns down the walls that separate us and compels us to grow, mature, and change in ways we never thought possible and never knew we could. I have come to see, however, that we cannot celebrate Romantic love, or even all love alone, we must also remember to celebrate justice.

The Biblical scholar John Dominic Crossan has often written that love and justice require each other. In The Greatest Prayer, he writes that:

Think, then, of justice as the body of love and love as the soul of justice [....] Combined you have both; seperated you have neither. Justice without love or love without justice is a moral corpse. This is why justice without love becomes brutal and love without justice becomes banal.

In short, love by itself is not always just or world-transforming, and there is a real danger it will degrade it to an empty and sappy sentimentality; and justice without love shows no mercy, heeds no compassion: we must have both together. And what is justice? For this Crossan has an answer as well:

The biblical tradition insists that God is a God of "justice and righteousness," that is, of distributive justice and restorative righteousness. Think, for example, of this divine claim:
"I am the Lord; I act with steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth, for in these things I delight, says the Lord" (Jeremiah 9:24). Furthermore, rulers are expected to participate in that same divine character. "Thus says then Lord: act with justice and righteousness, and deliver from the hand of the oppressor anyone who has been robbed. And do no wrong or violence to the alien, the orphan, and the widow, or shed innocent blood in this place" (Jeremiah 22:3). The most serious and far-reaching misunderstanding of that biblical tradition is to interpret divine justice as retributive rather than distributive, as if it meant a proper punishment for some rather than a fair share for all [....]

The biblical tradition got that vision of God from the most obvious source imaginable, from growing up in a decent home and a well-run household. Most children either experienced that normalcy positively or recognized its absence negatively. The Bible simply took that expectation of a decent household and applied it to God as the Householder of the World-House. Given their world's patriarchal prejudices they spoke of God "as Father" but God "as Householder" is what that title meant.

Think, for a moment, about the first-century world of Jesus and especially of that prayer which begins with, "Our Father in Heaven." There is an especially striking irony when God-as-Householder is called God-as-Father by Jesus. Demographers of the Roman world agree that, owing to the late marriage-age of males, one third of young people would have been fatherless by the age of fifteen -- across all strata of society. Women married around 12 or 13, men married around twice that age, general life expectancy was under 30 years, so that a father as actual householder must have been mostly theory rather than practice and nostalgia rather than reality. In other words, in a first-century household across the Roman world, hear "father," think "mother," but understand "householder." And, as on earth, so also in heaven.

If, in that first-century world, you entered a small family farm and its courtyard house, how would you judge the householder? Are the fields well administered, the livestock well provisioned, the family members well-fed, well-clothed, well-sheltered?? Does a sick child get special care? Does a pregnant mother get special concern? Does everyone get a fair share? Does everyone get enough? You would judge the householder not by the criterion of egalitarianism but of enoughism. That is how -- then as now -- you would assess the householder of any home. Is there a fair distribution of goods and resources, of duties and obligations?

But what if some of the children were starving and others were over-fed? What if some received food while others did not? What would you think of that householder -- then or now? That is the mega-model or mega-metaphor underneath the biblical tradition's understanding of its God. That is why the biblical God can demand of the powers-that-be, the rulers of this world, that they,

Give justice to the weak and the orphan;
maintain the right of the lowly and the destitute. (Psalm 82:3

So let us celebrate love today, let us celebrate each other. But let us celebrate justice as well, for we need to honor both, and the two must never be separated.

The real problem with Ebenezer Scrooge

How can I even begin to review the book that, more than any other source, gave us the modern Christmas?!

I've read A Christmas Carol at least 6 times and I always find something new to enjoy about it with each read. The narration is absolutely entrancing, the dialogue beautiful, and the story - even to call it "gripping" is to underestimate it.

The story is too well known to repeat here, but I should point out that, as a result of over saturation with many film adaptations, we don't properly understand the story. All too often, we think of Scrooge as a greedy miser who simply does not want to be charitable. Though this is correct, it is trivial and even peripheral to the character. Scrooge's basic problem is a failure to relate.

Scrooge is first introduced to us as a man who was

a tight-fisted hand at the grind- stone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster.

Nobody ever stopped him in the street to say, with gladsome looks, "My dear Scrooge, how are you? When will you come to see me?" No beggars implored him to bestow a trifle, no children asked him what it was o'clock, no man or woman ever once in all his life inquired the way to such and such a place, of Scrooge. Even the blind men's dogs appeared to know him; and when they saw him coming on, would tug their owners into doorways and up courts; and then would wag their tails as though they said, "No eye at all is better than an evil eye, dark master!"

But what did Scrooge care? It was the very thing he liked. To edge his way along the crowded paths of life, warning all human sympathy to keep its distance.

As if that were not enough to clarify that Scrooge's real problem is his refusal to relate to other people in any way other than through doing business, Scrooge tells us as much in his conversation with the "Portly Gentlemen" who come collecting funds for the poor

"At this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge," said the gentleman, taking up a pen, "it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the Poor and Destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thousands are in want of common necessaries; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir."

"Are there no prisons?" asked Scrooge.

"Plenty of prisons," said the gentleman, laying down the pen again.

"And the Union workhouses?" demanded Scrooge. "Are they still in operation?"

"They are. Still," returned the gentleman, "I wish I could say they were not."

"The Treadmill and the Poor Law are in full vigour, then?" said Scrooge.

"Both very busy, sir."

"Oh! I was afraid, from what you said at first, that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course," said Scrooge. "I'm very glad to hear it."

"Under the impression that they scarcely furnish Christian cheer of mind or body to the multitude," returned the gentleman, "a few of us are endeavoring to raise a fund to buy the Poor some meat and drink and means of warmth. We choose this time, because it is a time, of all others, when Want is keenly felt, and Abundance rejoices. What shall I put you down for?"

"Nothing!" Scrooge replied.

"You wish to be anonymous?"

"I wish to be left alone," said Scrooge. "Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don't make merry myself at Christmas and I can't afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned -- they cost enough; and those who are badly off must go there."

"Many can't go there; and many would rather die."

"If they would rather die," said Scrooge, "they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population. Besides -- excuse me -- I don't know that."

"But you might know it," observed the gentleman.

"It's not my business," Scrooge returned. "It's enough for a man to understand his own business, and not to interfere with other people's. Mine occupies me constantly. Good afternoon, gentlemen!"

Seeing clearly that it would be useless to pursue their point, the gentlemen withdrew. Scrooge returned his labours with an improved opinion of himself, and in a more facetious temper than was usual with him.

Scrooge here comes off as an extreme libertarian who simply wishes to be left alone and to leave others alone; his affairs are no concern to them, nor should their affairs be any concern to him. He does not refuse to donate to the poor out of greed, so much as he simply thinks that he and the poor have nothing to do with each other, and he does no appreciate an attempt to get him to put himself in any kind of personal relation to them.

Most tellingly, Scrooge fails to even identify himself as a unique individual. He answers to the name of his firm, Scrooge or Marley! Scrooge has reduced all transactions, all relations with others, and even his own identity to matters of business transactions!

The story of his redemption is the story of reconnection. Scrooge remembers the relationships from his past, sees what relationships he fails to attain in the present, and, in the future, sees what life would be like if his wish to "be left alone" were granted ... he finally would be alone, "unwept, unkept, uncared for...." he finds that he cannot stand it.

So when you read A Christmas Carol read it with new eyes. Don't think of this as as story of a greedy jerk who learns to be kind and generous. Think of the novella rather as the tale of a man who thinks he wishes to be left to himself "warning all human sympathy to keep its distance" until he sees what that wish would really mean and what he misses out on by trying to live it.

Peace On Earth? A closer look

I just learned about a 1939 cartoon called "Peace on Earth." It is really a creative and remarkable twist on the fake good will and meaningless peace that too often adorned home decor and greeting cards this time of year!

Check out more about it here

You owe it to yourself to watch this short!



After you have played this video ask yourself, can we ever really have peace on earth without the scenario imagined here? Could peace on earth be obtained with human beings still here? Or is our species perpetually doomed to violence and warfare?

Sadly, I fear that in a real human being created apocalypse the we'd take the poor animals with us.

Peace on Earth: Justice and the meaning of Christmas

Each December I bring out my DVD of "A Charlie Brown Christmas." The climatic scene occurs when an exasperated Charlie Brown yells out "isn't there anybody who can tell me what Christmas is all about?!!" Linus' famous soliloquy answers that question:



Whether Linus is right that Christmas is all about "Peace on Earth and good will to men" depends very much on how we understand those phrases.

All too often these are just empty words. "Peace on earth" and "good will toward men" are simply part of the seasonal decor, like Rudolph, and Frosty, and multi-colored light bulbs. Those who rail at Christmas as sheer commercialism frosted with empty sentimentalism and manufactured good will, are clearly correct about how much of Christmas is celebrated. But the Hallmark version of Christmas need not be the way we celebrate this holiday.

The Christmas stories in the gospels are about justice. Jesus is born a poor peasant child in both Matthew and Luke. In Matthew this poor child is attacked by an oppressive ruler; King Herod. In Luke the message of Jesus' birth if first delivered to a group of highly despised and marginalized social outcasts; Shepards. To see how clearly the gospel message of Christmas it he message of justice, one need simply read the central lines of the Magnificant:

He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts
of their hearts.
52 He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and
lifted up the lowly;
53 he has filled the hungry with good things,
and
sent the rich away empty.

The Christmas stories make it quite clear: Herod and Caesar (remember that story about the census) are cruel tyrants who oppress the people; but Jesus is a people's champion who fights against oppression and for inclusion, equality, and non-violent justice.

The most famous secular Christmas story is probably Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. This book also is concerned with social justice and the plight of the poor. The story is too well known to repeat here, but seldom noticed is the fact that the tale is not so much about the reform of a man gone wrong, as it is about the need for a deep transformation away from selfish isolation and toward the good of the community, particularly its least well off members.

Dickens nicely sums up the message of peace on earth with his strange figure of the Ghost of Christmas present:

It was clothed in a a simple green robe, or mantle, bordered with white fur. This garment hung so loosely on the figure, that its capacious breast was bare, as if disdaining to be warded or concealed by any artifice. Its feet, observable beneath the ample folds of the garment, were also bare; and on its head it wore no other covering than a holly wreath, set here and there with shining icicles. Its dark brown curls were long and free; free as its genial face, its sparkling eye, its open hand, its cheery voice, its unconstrained demeanour, and its joyful air. Girded round its middle was an antique scabbard; but no sword was in it, and the ancient sheath was eaten up with rust.

The rusted and empty scabbard is particularly telling. Remember that the Ghost of Christmas present sits in a well lit room overflowing with good food, warmed by a blazing fire, and filled with joy. When all are fed, warm, and cared for, there will be peace on earth. The scabbard is rusted and empty because violence will never bring about peace, only good will and plenty can do that.

Dickens understood the social message of the gospels' Christmas stories.

Finally, even jolly Old Saint Nicholas (who has been sadly commercialized and turned into the coca cola Santa) is originally a figure of social justice. A protector of the poor, of sailors, of children, and other marginal figures, Saint Nicholas was originally a non-violent warrior for those who were left out.

In short, let us forget about the over-commercialization of Christmas. We should ignore that. Let us divorce the holiday from its sappy and falsely sentimental trappings. Christmas is - or least should be - about justice, about food for the hungry, clothing for the naked, shelter for the homeless, and inclusion and acceptance of the excluded and marginalized.

Let us have a just Christmas. Perhaps then we can, like the reformed Scrooge, know how to keep Christmas well.

Remembering Mr. Gandhi

Today marks the anniversary of the birth of Mohandas Gandhi. I paste the following video of Gandhi's words to remember what he stood for.



I find that, unlike Gandhi, I cannot fully embrace total non-violence. For instance, Gandhi opposed the use of force even against Hitler! Even in self-defense! I don't say he was wrong, just that I cannot take the doctrine that far myself.

Non-violence, however, is more than just not using force. It is a commitment to a way of life, a way of life that rejects the normal injustice, discrimination, and brute use of power by governments, in relationships, and between people in every day encounters.

For Gandhi, we must stop responding to each other in hostile terms, stop thinking of each other as separate and opposed. Non-violence is really about our connections with each other, the unity of the human family, and the rejection of hostility and power struggles as part of our relationships to one another.

It is this rejection of hostility and distrust and its replacement by cooperation, love, and peace that we remember when we remember Mr. Gandhi. In the current political climate, where extremists shout out fears of government take overs and communism, where tea-baggers bring automatic weapons to political rallies, and where disagreements on policy are primarily expressed by ranting and raving and bullying your opponents ... we would do well to reflect on the example of Gandhi

Labor Day casts a grim shadow

Labor Day has come and gone. The ceremonial ending of summer, a holiday - for federal workers, but not many of the rest of us - has been celebrated, grills made use of. Sadly, however, we find the outlook less than rosy on this holiday meant to honor working people.

It has been some time since being a working person in America has been a worse bargain. Unions - which give workers their only power to bargain for fair wages and decent benefits against massive corporations and other big employers - have been, with some notable but few exceptions, abolished, or at least broken and neutered, rendered impotent by pro-corporate legislation passed by the bought and paid for members of the United States Congress and White House, over the last 30-35 years. The gulf between rich and poor continues to grow and the those who are not rich are seeing their standard of living drop further and further.

Our current economic collapse shows no real sings of abetting, and nobody is adding jobs. Even federal employees, once thought safe from such disasters, are seeing their wages and benefits reduced.

To borrow a phrase from Obi-Wan Kenobi, "it is a dark time for the empire."

I would like to say something optimistic, to praise working people, and to argue that they can get some of their rights and power back. And indeed, I am quite sure that they can do so. But the immediate outlook is grim.

By pursuing fairly conservative economic policies, by eschewing more progressive ideas, Obama has failed to create jobs, failed to boost the economy. The stimulus was too small, too weak, too focused on tax cuts and minor lending. There was no real attempt to move the country toward a green economy, which would have created far more jobs, no attempt to hire more teachers, no attempts to bolster public service ... at least no more than minimal attempts. Apparently when we require money to build bombs, bail out banks, and kill people in distant lands, we have a bottomless pit of funds, but when it comes to building better roads, hiring more nurses, hiring teachers and paying them better, funding public libraries, and so on, we just "can't spare the cash."

Obama, I think, did this because he did not want to seem too "radical" too "liberal." And what has he accomplished? In all probability a radically far right, and, to be honest, rather crazy, GOP will probably take control of both houses this November. They will undo even the minimal gains Obama's white house has brought us. They will hurt working people more than they ever did before.

Ironically, many working people will vote in to office the very hacks and liars who are going to destroy their livelihood even further than it has already been destroyed.

Not only is it a dark time for the empire and for working people, but, to quote now from the Scarecrow in Wizard of Oz, "I can't be sure, but I think it's gonna get darker before it gets lighter."

Tongues of Flame

On the Church calendar today was Pentecost. For those who do not know, Pentecost is the day set aside to recognize the founding of Christianity as a new religion. The story in Acts 2 is as follows:

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. ²And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. ³Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. ⁴All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability. ⁵Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. ⁶And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. ⁷Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? ⁸And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? ⁹Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, ¹⁰Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, ¹¹Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.”

As history it won't work. In the Jewish Tradition the Law was given on Pentecost. The author of Acts is simply using that date to have the "New Covenant" given on that same day. This is parable, not history (as if the flaming tongues and gift of languages were not enough to reveal that!).

In fact, it seems quite clear that the author is presenting this event as an undoing of the Tower of Babel. The Tower of Babel is that myth in the book of Genesis wherein God divides the human race by forcing them to speak in multiple languages, making them incomprehensible to each other.

What the author of Acts is saying is that the Holy Spirit which comes to the believer by the spirit of the Risen Jesus reverses this division and instead brings all together in unity. The great barriers separating humanity are conquered in the Spirit of the Risen One. As the ministry of Jesus was defined by breaking down the barriers that divide us from each other, this story is an admirable recognition of that same power alive in those who follow him.

The symbolism of reunification is very clear from the beginning of the the text. We are told that "they were all together in one place," and, lest we should still not get it, the Author ends his story of Pentecost with the following account of the life of the Early Jesus movement:

⁴⁴All who believed were together and had all things in common; ⁴⁵they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need.

It is not too surprising that the early Jesus movement "had all things in common," as Jesus himself seems to have lived this way and taught others to do the same ( see Luke 9:58, & Luke 18:18-25). And this passage should be read very carefully by those who champion big corporations and unregulated markets before they declare that they truly follow Jesus. But that is not my point here.

Historians of early Christianity are certain that Christianity as a religion separate from Judaism cannot be dated to before the destruction of the Jewish Temple in 70 A. D. And the break is not complete until the early second century. Pentecost therefore, cannot really be about the founding of a new faith.

What Pentecost is about is unity. The world is and always has been deeply divided. These divisions all too often cause harms. The story of Pentecost tells us that division is not final, that we need not cave to it. Beneath our divisions there is a unity. That unity can be grasped, can be seen, can be lived.

As far as history is concerned the Apostles never did speak in multiple languages at once. Neither can we. But perhaps, if we but let ourselves be "filled with the Holy Spirit" we can come to understand each other and finally all come "together in one place."

Why do you seek the living among the dead?

For those who are not interested in Easter at all, this post will not matter. Also, for those who do celebrate Easter, but as a family (non-religious) holiday, or fertility festival, this post is not relevant either. I have no quarrel with these views, I merely am not addressing them here. Fertility festivals and family holidays can be very fine things, but I want to write on the importance of Easter as a commemoration of the resurrection of Jesus.

Let me state clearly that I affirm the resurrection of Jesus. There is, however, a twist. I do not believe that Jesus was physically raised from the dead. That is, I do not believe that on the third day the body of Jesus was physically transformed and his tomb found empty.

The reasons I doubt this are lengthy and complex and I will here only summarize them: 1) most crucified victims were not buried, and if by rare chance one was they were dumped in a common or shallow criminal's grave. The burial of Jesus by Joseph of Arimathea reads like a contrived tale to (a) save Jesus from this fate, and (b) help account for the resurrection in narrative terms. 2) The stories read like symbolic accounts. The resurrection is said to happen at sunrise, there are angels, the stone is magically "rolled away." This reads like legend. 3) The appearance stories in the gospels cannot be harmonized and are the clear inventions of their authors' theology. 4) It seems clear to me that by presenting the stories as they do, the gospel writers did not intend to convey literal fact. 5) Paul, our earliest Christian writer and a self-proclaimed "witness" of the risen Jesus says nothing about an "empty tomb," and strongly indicates that the resurrection of Jesus - whatever it was - was not the transformation of a corpse.

Nevertheless, I don't want to press this issue. If you believe that Jesus really did bodily rise up from the dead on Easter Sunday, and the tomb was really empty, then fine. I have no desire to combat that belief. My question is this: can the resurrection of Jesus be affirmed by one who does not believe the empty tomb story? Who does not affirm bodily resurrection?

I believe that it can.

Here is how I understand what the earliest followers of Jesus were saying: When Jesus was crucified they were afraid and they fled in despair, but they soon found that the power that they knew in Jesus was still present in them! Not only that, they felt that it was still Jesus bringing this power. That is, the earliest followers of Jesus were somehow aware (visions were most likely involved here) that Jesus was still with them, empowering them to do what he did; to heal the sick, condemn injustice, champion the poor, and include the outcasts.

I do not mean by this that they merely continued Jesus' mission or that his teaching or ideas lived on. Rather, I mean to say that the disciples of Jesus felt the "living presence" of Jesus empowering them to do as he did, and this forced them to say "Jesus lives." Jesus, they now believed, was "with God" and "with them." And I believe they were right.

Don't get me wrong, I have no idea what happens after death. I do not think traditional views of heaven and hell are likely to be true. And I have no idea if any of our personality survives death, in fact I lean against that. But I do think that something of the essence of what we are is eternal and not merely mortal. It is this contact with and experience of the eternal aspect of Jesus' being that caused his disciples to say "He is risen!"

But "Jesus Lives" is only half of the Easter proclamation. These disciples affirmed also that "Jesus is Lord." For them, Jesus did not merely continue to be with them, but to call them and challenge them, and bring to them the very being and power of their God. The risen Jesus challenges those who encounter him to radically reorient themselves; not only his presence but his call to mission is the heart of Easter faith.

I do not profess to know what kinds of experiences these disciples had. I was not there, and what we have (other than Paul) are the purely symbolic accounts in the gospels. But I am convinced that they experienced the real presence of the real Jesus as a compelling power within themselves.

The success of the Jesus movement resulted in the fact that these experiences of the "risen Jesus" were not isolated, but could be had by others. Christians who had never known Jesus during his life, could and did experience him as a "living power" calling for their authentic response.

And what was the call of Jesus? The call to "follow him." And this meant, a life committed to forgiveness, inclusion, compassion, healing, non-violence, social justice, and peace. It is this life that the risen and living Jesus still can bring to those who look to him, and to me this is what faith in the resurrection of Jesus means.

So, what happened to the body of Jesus? Presumably one of the few horrid fates that befell most crucifieds. But it is irrelevant. As the gospels rhetorically ask us, "why do we seek the living among the dead?" The spirit of Jesus lives on calling us. If we answer that call he can empower us to walk as he did and follow his way.

He is risen indeed!

Happy Easter.


Note: Originally Published last year.

Do this in Remembrance of Me

Today is Holy Thursday, the day when Christians remember the last supper, the foundation of that most sacred of Christian meals, the Holy Communion.

It is historically very uncertain if the accounts of the last supper actually go back to the Historical Jesus or if they are later constructions of the church. My own inclination is that Jesus did celebrate a "last supper" with some of his followers. I doubt he said the "words of the institution," but I suspect he asked them to "remember him while they ate and drank." But perhaps not even that is historical. There is something more important about this meal.

In standard Christian theology Holy Communion is deeply connected with Jesus "dying for the sins of the world." I'm not very interested in that theology. Jesus' death is very important. He was put to death by an Empire and a leadership that despised everything he stood for to make an example to would be rebels. That death is, in many ways, a profound conclusion to his life and mission. But I don't believe in vicarious sacrifice or magic rituals, so the "dying for our sins" part does not move me. I am, however, deeply moved by the ritual of Holy Communion.

Communion reminds as that we are all one, like cells of one body, and that we were meant for "life together" in Boenhoffer's phrase. It is also a reminder that God is intimately near to us, as near as the bread and wine we digest. But there is more to the ritual even than that. Eating together was a (perhaps the) central element in the ministry of the historical Jesus.

Historians and New Testament scholars are unanimous in recognizing an "all-inclusive table fellowship" or "open commensality" as a central practice of the ministry of Jesus. In the ancient world who you ate or did not eat with mattered very greatly. Table Fellowship was a microcosm of the lager society, you did not eat with the the "lower people" or "outcasts."

Jesus directly challenged this ancient table practice with his own. Jesus dined with all manner of people, rich and poor, righteous and sinner, outcast and respectable soul, tax-collect and harlot, P and scribe. For Jesus, all set together to dine as equals. Jesus, from all accounts, appears to have been principally concerned with undoing the divisions of society. His ministry of eating and healing appears to have been designed to radically transform human relationships from exclusive to inclusive, from hierarchical to egalitarian.

The practice of all eating together as equals was the realization of Jesus' vision. In having all dine together as equals, Jesus was not merely proclaiming, but actually destroying the boundaries that divide. No one was to be an "outcast" any longer.

It all probability that is what communion grew out of - Jesus' mission to unite us all; to break apart the divisions which cause strife between us.

So if you take communion tonight or anytime this Holy Week do indeed remember Jesus. But forget theological claims about his divinity or sacrificial death (I suspect that the Historical Jesus would have found such claims a profound waste of time) try to remember his mission to unite, heal, reconcile, and bring together.

In a world still so divided and marred by the violence of those divisions, perhaps it would be good to remember Jesus' call to unity and to try to live it a little.

Palm Sunday: A Passion for Peace through Justice

Today is Palm Sunday, the beginning of Holy Week for Christians. On Palm Sunday Jesus enters Jerusalem riding a donkey, hailed by followers waving palm branches. The action is a deliberate symbolic protest.

Biblical Scholar John Dominic Crossan pinned an article just two days ago which explains exactly what Jesus was up to:

Jesus went up to Jerusalem to make twin demonstrations, first against Roman imperial control over the City of Peace and, second, against Roman imperial control over the Temple of God. In other words, put personally, against the (sub)governor Pilate and his high-priest Caiaphas.

Together with his friend and colleague Marcus Borg, Crossan wrote an excellent book a few years back with elaborates and clarifies Jesus purpose in Jerusalem: The Last Week. Early in this book they explain that:

The Meaning of the demonstration is clear, for it uses symbolism from the prophet Zechariah in the Jewish Bible. According to Zechariah, a king would be coming to Jerusalem (Zion) "humble, and riding on a colt, the foal of a donkey" (9:9).... The rest of the Zechariah passage details what kind of king he will be .... This king, riding on a donkey, will banish war from the land - no more chariots, war-horses, or bows. Commanding peace to the nations, he will be king of peace.

Jesus' procession deliberately countered what was happening on the other side of the city [that Sunday, Pilate entered the city in a pompous pro-empire procession]. Pilate's procession embodied the power, glory, and violence of the empire that ruled the world. Jesus' procession embodied an alternative vision, the kingdom of God.

The kingdom of God is the heart of Jesus' life and message. Dedicated to non-violence, inclusiveness, justice for the poor and afflicted, and peace through justice for all, Jesus entered Jerusalem intentionally opposing his message and his mission to the power and injustice of empire.

The problem with Rome and the Priesthood for working so closely with Roman power. Was that this power disenfranchised, exploited, and oppressed the peasantry (a good 90% or so of the population) simply to create wealth and power for the elites.

Or to quote from Crossan once more:

After centuries of subjugation to various empires, the Jews of Jesus' time wanted to know: if God is just, and the world belongs to God, why is the world so unjust? One stream of Jewish tradition answered that question with this mantra: God will overcome, someday. At some point in the future, God would not only clean up the mess but also create a perfect world.... 

[To fight against Roman imperial power] Jesus told his companions to heal the sick, to eat with those they healed, and to announce that the Kingdom of God had arrived. Healing is the basic spiritual power. Eating is the basic physical power. That mutual sharing of spiritual and physical power, in a sense, recreated the sharing aspects of peasant life in contrast to the greedy life under Antipas' Romanization process. 

Think about those twin aspects for a moment. Those who bring healing and those who furnish eating are not exactly in the same position. They represent, respectively, itinerants and householders. By itinerants, I mean people pushed off family farms or family boats as the New World Order arrived in Lower Galilee. 

Think, for example, of how readily fishermen followed Jesus. By householders, I mean families who know how easily they could lose their own farms or boats in a changing economy. As itinerants and householders faced one another, the former saw where they had been, and the latter saw where they could be. The program of the Kingdom was to join both groups in support and common life.

In Leviticus 25:23 God says that, "The land shall not be sold in perpetuity, for the land is mine; with me you are but aliens and tenants." Land is life itself and cannot be bought and sold like other commercial commodities. In the gospels and throughout the New Testament there is little said about land and much said about food. But the continuity is clear--land is there for food, and the basis of life is land because it produces food.

Jesus' Kingdom program was not just about politics or economics as distinct from theology. It combined religion, politics, and economics; it was about divine distributive justice; it was about the ownership of this world; it was about a theology of creation ("Jesus' Kingdom Program" Belief-net).

In other words, Jesus challenged his hearers to disobey Roman power by living in God's kingdom here and now. In effect he claimed that Roman authority was null and void, that the Temple leadership was dissolved, and that God was ruling in our midst. No wonder the authorities killed him!

To follow Jesus, therefore, is to oppose the forces of empire and violence. To fight for the radical inclusion and healing of all people.

Palm Sunday offers us a choice: we can follow Jesus the messiah of peace and justice, or align ourselves with the forces of empire. THAT is the gospel; THAT is the passion of Holy Week.
UPDATED: APRIL 1, 2012

Christmas: A Defense

I hear much from my colleagues in academia about how horrible Christmas is. Their complaint is a valid one. The problem is that their complaint is limited, one-sided and narrow.

In brief, the standard academic critique of mChristmas is that it trivializes our emotions with false and shallow sentimentality, and helps to foster a culture of greed, commercialism, excess, and rampant spending on things we neither need or want. No observer of the contemporary Christmas season can deny that there really is much false sentimentality and corrupt consumerism at Christmas time. This is true and those things are rightly condemned.

The problem is that academics are very narrow-minded. They reduce everything to a singular phenomenon, a unified purpose, and they are often incapable of seeing outside the colored goggles of their favorite ideology. In general, anything enjoyed by a majority of people is frowned upon and dismissed by the professors who sit atop their ivory towers feeling smug and superior, above the common and duped rabble.

They might try looking more deeply.

I know few - if any - people who are really concerned with presents and hallmark card sentimentality. Most people find Christmas a time to remind them that what matters most in life is Peace on Earth and Good Will toward all. Yes these phrases have been abused and over used. That does not drain them of their meaning.

Christmas reminds us to cherish our loved ones, to value our relationships, to reach out to those in need. Undoubtedly we should do this all year long. We should always value our relationships, cherish our loved ones, help the poor and needy. No doubt the pretentious critics of Christmas will bellow at me that "we don't need a special day for this stuff! We should always bear peace and good will." Indeed we should. But reminders help.

A special season devoted to what is best in human nature is a reminder to always be our best. We too easily get lost in the hustle of everyday life. Setting aside a day, indeed, an entire "season" to remember what matters most in life, can be a powerful motivator for the rest of the year.

By all means let us damn consumerism. Let us fight false sentimentality tooth and nail and refuse to participate in it. But this is only a superficial surface. What Christmas has always been about is none of these vile things.

This Christmas let us turn to the message of Peace, Joy, Love, and Good Will that Christmas is really all about. Let us join Ebenezer Scrooge and learn to honor Christmas in our hearts and keep it all the year.

Norad Follows Santa around the world

This has become one of my favorite Christmas eve traditions:

Dickens reminds us what Christmas is really about; and it's not what you think!

[What follows was originially posted last year]

Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol is rightly heralded as a classic that expresses the true meaning of Christmas. But not often for the right reasons.

Most film versions of the classic are overly sentimental. But the Scrooge we meet in the original novel is a man who is utterly devoid of any genuine relationships with other people. He is both dead to himself, and as a consequence dead to others. As Dickens remind us, he is "secretive, solitary, and self-contained as an oyster."

A Christmas Carol is not a Hallmark card about a stingy fellow who learns to be jovial and kind. It's a tale about the willing blindness of a man who will not listen to himself and thus shuts himself off from his fellow human beings.

The larger point is that for Dickens personal growth and transformation is inseparable from social justice and communal responsibility. If we ignore ourselves we will ignore the plight of our fellows. If we awake to ourselves, we cannot help but be moved to aid others when we can. Personal transformation and social justice are intimately linked.

In this vein the following 1972 Animated version of Carol is the best representation I have seen of the book. The film even uses as the basis for its "look" original illustrations from the 19th century.

This film not only gets the novel's concern with social justice and the plight of the poor, but also provides us with images that are very surrealist, reminiscent of a Dali painting or a Bergman film in some ways. The novel itself has these qualities, but they are not usually well captured in the various films.

Enjoy it! And remember what Dickens' Christmas Carol really has to teach us about the holiday season:

Santa Claus

The Christmas Holiday is flooded with images of Santa Claus. I have been thinking a great deal about this lately. No image is a better center for negative and positive reactions to the Christmas Holiday.

For those who see Christmas as too commercial, Santa is an easy target. The rotund and Jolly image of Kris Kringle is used to market and sell just about everything and then some. Clearly a big commercial plug, the Saint is often thought to be nothing more than a sales pitch.

Santa has also been a favorite target of some Christians who think that the modern Christmas is a purely pagan or secular celebration, with Santa usurping the role of Christ and leading our Children astray.

These reactions are perhaps understandable, but they are historically inaccurate. Santa Claus has been around far longer than the companies that use his image to sell products. Commercialism is neither the origin nor essential nature of Father Christmas.

Furthermore, Christmas has never been an exclusively Christian holiday. The pagan, Christian, and secular have long and happily co-existed as part of the yuletide season. Be that as it may, if people find Christmas too secular, too commercial, too sappy, or too ... whatever, that is their prerogative. I have no interest in defending the Holiday against those who do not care for it. Neither do I care to defend Santa Claus to those who do not wish to "play Santa" for their children. There are many parents who teach their children that Santa brings them gifts on Christmas eve and there are many who do not. I see no evidence that either practice is harmful or damaging to the children in question. So whether one likes Christmas or not, whether one embraces Saint Nick or not, is not my concern.

What I would like to address is what Santa Claus is about. What makes us tell our children stories about a magical saint who brings them toys? What makes children embrace the idea with so much joy? Why do we participate in this odd ritual of pretend? What, exactly, does Santa Claus represent for children?

An easy answer is that Santa brings toys and kids love toys. But that will not do. If it were just about toys, kids would love toys from whomever and not particularly care about Santa himself. But this is not what we find. Just talk to a child at Christmas time and you will see that it is the big man himself that matters to them, far more than the toys he brings. Why should this be so?

I have though long and hard on this matter over the years, and it seems clear to me that Santa is an an image of divinity. This may sound a little silly and strange. But it is actually not too hard to believe. Children approach Santa with just that mixture of awe, love, reverence, and fear, that most peoples traditionally approach their deities.

Santa, furthermore, clearly has the qualities of divinity. He is immortal, he lives in a magical place "up there," he is omniscient, omnipotent, and omnibenevolent. The Saint flies through the sky, can enter any home, "sees you when you're sleeping, knows if you've been bad or good," he even judges you "naughty or nice." To top it off, Santa even has the long white beard of the traditional sky-father deity!

Children, of course, would not call Santa divine; they would not think he was a god, or an image of God. But that is irrelevant. The attitudes children have toward Santa Claus, the qualities he possesses, make him an image of the divine.

So for those who do enjoying sharing Santa Claus with their children, think about what you are really sharing ... without knowing it you are imparting to your children a conception of divinity. A conception that, at its best, is really a rather positive one. In most portrayals Santa Claus is a kind, non-judgmental, and generous man. Perhaps by sharing him with our children, we are helping them to value these qualities, and to see them as the path toward the divine.

Saint Nicholas Day a day for Social Justice

Today is St. Nicholas' Day. I think it is good on this day to take some time to reflect on generosity, love, care, and giving. But more than that. Today is also a day for reflection upon social justice and helping those in need.

Nicholas is remembered primarily as the protector of children and the poor, those who could not defend themselves and needed a protector. It is little remembered sometimes that St. Nick is not simply a figure who gives gifts to children, but who helps those who are socially marginalized and in real danger of slipping through the cracks.

The most famous story about St. Nicholas tells of his "gift" of gold in the stockings of three daughters. The gift prevented the girls from being sold into slavery! St. Nicholas did not simply bestow trinkets but battled for social justice. Another famous tale informs us that Nicholas raised back to life three abandoned children who had been murdered by an inn keeper. In both cases St. Nicholas comes to aid and protect those who have been abused and neglected.

Let us reflect upon those who suffer from injustice and poverty. Let us call upon the spirit of justice, care, and generosity that St. Nicholas embodied. Let us try to let that spirit live and work in us this holiday season.

Here you can see the Saint himself arrive to greet adoring admirers:

Bonfire Night: The Fight against Authority

The English tradition of Bonfire night, celebrated tonight, remembers the FAILED attempt to blow up the king and Parliament by angry religious Zealot, Guy Fawkes. It has its place I'm sure.

But ever since the graphic novel - and especially the film - V For Vendetta, the Fifth of November has taken on a new meaning. Bonfire night has become a night to celebrate defiance of authority in the name of individual freedom.

As a graphic novel, and more so as a film, V for Vendetta is an enjoyable but flawed product. It is in turn silly, delusional, and cheesy. But I like to be reminded that we must be wary of power structures, and ready to stand against them.

We must remind ourselves that power structures are everywhere. These structures attempt to decree from on high, how we must life, what is wrong and what is right, what is normal and what is "beyond the pale." We give them too much power. It is we, and not the power structures and systems of domination that should determine how we live and what we are.

Reflect a little this November 5th. Think about how power structures stifle freedom and what we can do to change that in our own lives and communities.

Remember, Remember the fifth of November .....