Why I'm Team Christmas (Revisited)

Many years ago, on a now-defunct blog of mine, I wrote an elegy to the celebration of Christmas. My idea for this article is to revisit the ideas from that old vdpraxis post and see how they hold up over time, and whether they're still relevant. And, why not, with a few more conceptual tools in the arsenal, sharpen that defense a bit. On the other hand, looking back through some of the blog, I'm struck by the similarities with 421. Just stuff. So let's get to the point.

Something I said in that post from 12 years ago was that Christmas had gone from being a holiday with almost universal acceptance in Argentine culture to becoming a topic with a certain level of controversy. Or maybe it was simply that, when I wrote that article, I was exposing myself to social media opinions that weren't as unanimous as the ones in my immediate circle. Who knows. The truth is that Argentine society went through several processes of change –especially secularization, the Catholic Church losing relevance as a force of cultural homogenization, and, at the same time, the rise of evangelical culture. Rivers of ink have been spilled on each of these points, so it's hardly worth explaining here. In fact, I already have an article about that.

Beyond these obvious processes, there's something closely tied to Argentine culture: we don't have a broad holiday calendar. That is, we're not big on celebrating lots of things. For example, our Chilean neighbors celebrate their national holidays with three days off. Jews have several holidays on their calendar: Hanukkah, Yom Kippur, Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year), and so on. Practicing families –or families that respect tradition– are used to getting together several times a year to celebrate. American culture, alongside the traditional Christian calendar, added Halloween and Thanksgiving. By contrast, if you're an average Argentine goy, the only things we have on the calendar are Easter, Christmas, and New Year's. If we get precious –or revisionist– and decide to do away with the few holidays we have as tradition, we'll eventually become Uruguay. A disgrace. It's worth highlighting, though, the recovery of Carnival on the holiday calendar in recent years.

First: holidays are a special event in everyday life. Different kinds of decorations show up, special colors, themed songs, promotions, meals, and events. They break the monotony of daily life, in which days, weeks, and months look pretty similar except for the changing seasons. But they're not only special events: they're collective in scope. Each of us has personal events that break routine –birthdays, weddings, concerts, date nights, long weekends, getaways, vacations. But holidays are an event that changes everyone at the same time. There's something very particular about that synchronicity, and about knowing that almost the whole country –or at least the vast majority– will be eating around a table on the night of December 24, celebrating one more year together.

Second: it's a holiday that has been celebrated for thousands of years. That, in some way, gives you a sense of continuity with a type of culture. Every civilization has its own: Jews have their holidays; Islam has the pilgrimage to Mecca; the Chinese have their New Year; Indigenous peoples have their own festivities; and in Christian-based cultures we have Easter and Christmas. Keeping those customs keeps us tied to a tradition that predates us and will keep existing when we're gone. It's a way of taking part in something bigger than ourselves.

Third: it's a celebration of abundance. That's why we eat a lot, exchange gifts, and set off fireworks –because, in some way, it's celebrated through excess. We eat to the point of bursting, we drink to excess, we give each other things, and, on top of that, it's a moment when that spirit becomes a little more charitable. Everyone wants –at least for one day– other people to have something to celebrate with too. That's why parishes, clubs, soup kitchens, and different social organizations put together special meals and collect toys so that each person, and each child, has something to eat and a gift to receive at this time of year.

Fourth: for years, Christmas has been shaped by a dispute between its religious meaning and its instrumentalization by marketing. Those who lead the objections from the sacred side argue that Christmas is fundamentally a religious holiday, and that therefore the center should be placed on the commemoration of God's incarnation in Jesus. On the other hand, the champions of marketing point out that Christmas is a great opportunity for retailers: a specific day when sales rise considerably. The fact that society as a whole is committed to making a big family meal and giving gifts to every member of the family is an unparalleled opportunity for the economy to generate more activity, and that function is represented by Santa Claus and by the founding myth that red and white are a Coca-Cola psy-op.

In my case, even though I understand both points, I don't think there's a contradiction. In terms of memetic power, it's undeniable that Christmas "wins" as a thoroughly Christian package of symbols. Even the figure of Santa Claus –it cracks me up that in Chile they call him "Viejo Pascuero"– has roots in a Christian saint, and his figure is part of the cultural triumph of a certain paradigm. The competition with the figure of Jesus is real too, but if we want to be precise, Christ is omnipresent in Christian-based cultures while Santa only gets one day a year. And on the other hand, I recommend –if you can– living at least once in your life the experience of dressing up as him, to surprise nephews, nieces, or kids and give them the best Christmas of their lives.

Fifth: finally, it's worth remembering the existence of Christmas movies and TV specials. There's nothing nicer than spending the 25th sprawled out doing nothing, or on the 24th, all dressed up and waiting for the family dinner, watching some Christmas classic full of bundled-up people and tons of snow –while we slowly roast in 35°C heat and the pionono (a rolled sponge cake) fights to keep its shape.

On top of all that –and no less important, in fact the core of the whole thing– is the question of how you get along with your family. For families that get along more or less fine, Christmas is just a day of tension and swearing, but also of celebration at the table (within the margins of what's possible). For families that suck, Christmas is the representation of everything abominable on Earth: being forced to spend time with people you can't stand. The only viable solution is to spend Christmas with the people who truly matter to us.

That's all. I'm signing off. I wish you all an excellent Christmas, and I'll see you next week –already gearing up for the other big holiday on the calendar: New Year's.