I figured I would not post anything on this blog until Christmas day. However, I just got back from Christmas Eve mass, and I felt the need to share my feelings. The best word to use to describe this sermon would be “interesting”. As I fidgeted in my best suit I tried my best to listen to the priest’s sermon. He mentioned how we must “honour the precious gift given to us on the blessed day of Christmas”. It’s the same sermon that I hear every year- that makes vague references, but never fully speaks about the materialism, greed and commercialization of this holiday. The holiday that was meant to celebrate Christ’s birth, has become a symbol for shopping sprees at the mall. If it was me standing at that podium, I would find it hard to keep from yelling at the congregation for being greedy idiots.
And while the priest kept referring to Christ and how we should remember him, it only served to create more frustration for me. After all, Jesus Christ was not born on December 25th. The New Testament makes no mention of the date of Jesus’ birth. Pardon me as I enlighten the masses in my best poindexter voice, but the reason why we celebrate Christmas on December 25th is because the Romans wanted to amalgamate the holiday with the traditions of their winter holiday – Saturnalia – after they converted to Christianity. So when the priest continuously made note of how we’ve strayed from the original message of Christmas, I rolled my eyes and sighed out loud. You can’t put the “Christ” back in Christmas, because he was never there in the first place!
As I stood amongst the congregation I wondered why all these people gathered here each year. I wondered why they bothered coming to mass and faking their interest, when they never attend Church for the rest of the year.
As I drove my mom home, she turned to me and smiled. “That was a lovely sermon” she said. I turned to her, and momentarily lost track of my anger. I looked at this woman who diligently came to church every Sunday, and how she was at ease in this season that I despised. She turned on the radio and “Silent Night” came on. My mom sang along with it, smiling broadly. I thought of how all the conceited people at Church did not get what Christmas was about, but my mum did. It was still frustrating, but a bit subdued.
Then I remembered that I still had not got her a Christmas gift.
And that’s another reason why I hate Christmas