A Very Yoda Christmas

Time for an informal readers' poll - assuming you have a Christmas tree, how is it decorated?  Are you all about themes?  Does everything match?  Or are you a believer in what I like to call the Christmas tree as a catch all?  There is a little bit of everything on your tree and you like it that way.

We are most definitely part of the catch all clan.  Don't get me wrong, thematic, symmetrical, and color coordinated trees are not bad, it is just not what I grew up with.  Our trees have always been a testament to our...how to say this...eclectic nature.  Yeah, that's it, eclectic!

At this moment our tree is covered with ornaments of all shapes, sizes, colors, and textures imaginable.  There are glass globes, shinny (oooh, shinny) metal snowflakes, felt ribbons, as well as ornaments made from ceramic, plastic (some of them light up and move) and various paper and clay projects constructed by our kids at school.

Each year we carefully (meaning don't let the kids touch the fragile ones) unwrap our ornaments and hang them on the tree.  Within the first two and a half minutes someone (usually me) is asking where a particular ornament came from.  It is truly amazing how my wife or children can remember, in great detail, the events surrounding the acquisition of a particular ornament, events I was supposedly present for, but I have absolutely no recollection of.  There are days when I wonder if they are making it all up to mess with me, but then I realize that it would require more time and effort than they are willing to invest just to prank me.  So, I take them at their word, nod along as if it is all coming back now, and silently search for an ornament that looks familiar.

Some of our ornaments were bought in the store (often after-season clearance), while others came as gifts from friends and family.  Some are filled with memories, some remind us of long-standing jokes, and a few we keep around because our children made them in preschool and we are not sure how to get rid of them without hurting someones feelings.  There are a couple, however, that no one knows where they came from or why we continue to put them on the tree.  One of such ornament is a 4-inch tall plastic Yoda.

I like Star Wars.  A lot.  So do my kids, which fills me with all sorts of warm and fuzzy feelings.  Still, I return to the key word here, like.  You know, I like you as a friend but not as a boy/girl friend sort of thing.  It is cool that we hang out and stuff, but I don't see us picking out china patterns and raising a family.  Yes, we own all the movies, and of course I have most of the dialogue from the original three films memorized, but let's put things in perspective here.  I am not obsessed with Star Wars and even if I did have a problem (which I don't) my favorite character is not Yoda.  So how did this replica of Yoda leaning on his walking stick end up on my Christmas tree?

I have this weird vision that a thousand years from now some archaeologists will be digging up the remains of what was our house and discover our Yoda ornament (perhaps they will be ape-like creatures and someone who looks like Charlton Heston will be walking around in a loin cloth as well).  From this one artifact, this one cast-off item, these archaeologists will begin to tell a tale of me and my family, one that involves Yoda, an alter, a liturgy designed to win the favor and blessing of master Yoda, and perhaps even animal sacrifices.  No one will know, or probably even care, that Yoda was not a deity (at least not in our house) but an ornament that we hung on a tree in the month of December every year.

Objects can tell stories, but not always the right ones.  How often do we look at the kind of car a person is driving and make assumptions about who they are and what they do for a living?  We do the same thing with clothing, houses, shoes and various other items (including Christmas trees).  I like to go for walks in the evening when it is quiet and I can think.  Often people will have their blinds or curtain open and their television sets on.  Try as I might, it is really hard not to see a 48 inch plasma filling up a living room and not make some ill-informed observations about the people who live in that house.

There are a number of people in this world who seem, on the outside at least, to have it all together.  The perfect job, family, friends, house, car, etc...  Yet, inside, they are really hurting.  And, there are people who do not have much but are very happy and content with their lives.  And folks who are happy and wealthy, poor and in a lot of pain, and everything in between.  My point is that possessions, or the lack thereof, are not always a good indication of need.  To really know what is going on in someones life we have to make and take the time to get to know that person.  And that is so hard in a culture that values owning things over making time for other people.

This is the season of giving.  Let me encourage you to give something very important this year - your time to someone else.  Get to know them, what they long for as well as what they fear (you can even learn if they have a 4-inch plastic Yoda hanging on their Christmas tree).  And if they are willing, let them get to know you.  Learn someone else's story and allow it to transform your life.  For that is the power in the gift of relationships.  Our joys become complete when we share them with someone else, our pain can be eased by the loving care of another.  That is what Christmas is all about, God's willingness to enter into our lives and allowing us to truly enter God's.  It is what life, true life, abundant life, is all about.  What a gift!

Copyright © 2010, Roger Burns-Watson, All Rights Reserved

What Would Charlie Brown Think

Last year, towards the end of the December, I laid eyes on one of the most hideous, revolting, sights I have ever seen (and folks, after working in a fast-food restaurant, the bar for disgusting is pretty high).  There, at the end of the aisle, in a medium-sized triangular box, sat a replica of the Christmas tree from the animated Peanuts Christmas show.  I could not believe my eyes.  Someone at some company decided to produce an artificial, artificial mind you, scraggly tree, bent over by the weight of just one ornament, and wrapped in a blanket like Linus carries in the cartoons.  Then, many someones mass produced these abominations.  Worse yet, many other someones representing a number of retail outlets purchased these affronts to nature and slapped a $19.99 price tag on them.  And then some other people were forced to put them on the shelves.  The unspeakable horror!

The sickness I felt deep down in my stomach was soothed with the knowledge that it was just a temporary lapse of judgement.  A combination of common sense and short attention spans by consumers would ensure that these "holiday treasures" would not see the light of another Christmas season.  Lulled into believing that good will prevail, I channeled my righteous anger into other worthy causes (ie.  blogging about school pictures).

My faith in the American free enterprise system took another bone-crushing blow when I discovered that these things...these "trees"...are back.  Not only did they not get discarded into the trash heap of history, they are now in more stores than last year.  Why?  How?  What in the world is wrong with people in this country?

The poor little tree in the Charlie Brown Christmas show was a statement, a symbol, a rebellious cry to break free from an artificial and consumerist understanding of the season of giving.  In a world of plastic and metal, Charlie Brown found the one living thing and saw in it the meaning of Christmas.  Yes, it was weak and scrawny and not nearly as attractive as Snoopy's dog house, but that was the point.  The spirit of Christmas that leads us to acts of loving and compassion, that leads to life, is always in danger of being lost in a society that is fascinated with buying stuff just to buy stuff.

Gift giving is not wrong or bad.  Every culture throughout history has elevated the giving of gifts to a high and sacred place.  A present for newlyweds, or a new baby, or a house warming, or as a sign of respect, or love or just everyday care and concern is right and good and honorable.  There is nothing wrong with exchanging gift at Christmas (or any other holiday).  Gifts, however, are a means, not an end.  They are a way of expressing feelings.  Where the problems begin to creep in is when the buying of the gift is more important than the relationship the gift is supposed to celebrate.  That was what Charlie Brown, in his own block headed way, was trying to say.

The Charlie Brown Christmas show remains so popular because it reminds us that the spirit of the season (and thus the real reason that we give gifts) is vastly more important than the trappings of the holiday.  We do not need glitter and glitz to celebrate love (though all the lights and decorations are not in and of themselves bad).  The little tree that Charlie Brown buys, and his friends mock him for, is one of the most potent symbols of anti-commercialism in American pop-culture.  But now, it has been turned into just another product we can buy for Christmas.  Stripped of its meaning and power, it looks just plain silly and stupid sitting on store shelves.

So, what to do about it?  A class-action lawsuit was briefly considered, but when all eight lawyers I spoke with hung up on me I figured it would not go far.  A letter to the editor seemed like a good idea, except no one reads newspapers any more.  Short of praying for a massive product recall there does not seem much I can do.  Other than vent my spleen to you, my loyal readers.  And hope that the never ending attempts to turn Christmas into a complete consumer orgy fails.  That is what Charlie Brown would want, I think.