Christmas in a Humanist Fellowship

This is a complicated time in Unitarian Universalist congregations, this Christmas season, when so many of us want to hide from an oppressive Christian past, and so many others of us want to honor a culturally important tradition.  In congregations I have known, the solstice celebration helps with this --- much that is called Christmas celebration can be moved a few days earlier, because it really is about the winter solstice anyway.  The room is darkened to allow a few moments to experience the depth of the longest night.  Candles light a pathway of increasing light to symbolize the return of longer days.  The songs are not the same, but singing and dancing brighten the long night. A generic new beginning replaces the New Beginning foreshadowed by the birth of the Savior.

In one congregation after another, I have been part of beginning a return to celebrating Christmas Eve in addition to the Solstice, thinking that there are among any group of UU's a few people who cherish an older tradition. Yes, I am deep down a pagan myself, but there it is. In this congregation, among those who love Christmas Eve is a family with Unitarian roots going back many generations.  In the absence of a service at their fellowship, they have established a Christmas Eve tradition with another family that is so important to the kids, they could not give it up this year to be part of the new service at the Fellowship.  It is told in this fellowship that in the past, when someone wanted a Christmas Eve experience, they were referred to the many traditional Christian congregations in the area. I had to ask myself,  how welcoming is that?

So there we were, some twenty of us-- people who know all the verses to all the old (theologically incorrect) carols, and people who love the story of Christmas, people who want a little calm in the middle of the holiday madness -- together in the glow of candles and the music of the harp, allowing ourselves a little wonder and mystery.  Somehow, an Old Humanist was among us that evening.  He spoke to me warmly after, saying that something had come unstuck for him on this evening, that it had become clear you could do jazz riffs on any theme, and that the music could be beautiful and moving.  I was glad to hear the sound of a heart opening, and felt blessed to be in the presence of this shift of awareness.

So I say, God rest ye merry!