Your trusty global companion for spiritual, sensual, and literary journeys with author Lyn Fuchs
Monday, December 18, 2017
Dreaming Of A Brown Christmas
You may remember Bono of U2 singing a catchy Christmas tune with some condescending lyrics: "There won't be snow in Africa this Christmas. Do they even know that it's Christmastime at all? Feed the world. Let them know it's Christmastime." How profound! You see, brown equatorial folks cannot really grasp that it's Christmas, unless northern white folks send them a sleighload of gifts, because they don't have snow, plus their fridges aren't overstuffed with processed carbs or expiring produce like American fridges. Poor brownies!
While my Mexican neighbors are a lot more passionate about nativity scenes than your average Canadian, I must admit they're quite Frosty the snowman and Rudolph the reindeer deprived. Still, they muddle on. Furthermore, if there'd been snow at the original Christmas, baby Jesus would've froze and Mary's nipples would've been so perky that the wise guys would've shown up to find Joseph rolling her in the hay.
No, that's not a bit disrespectful. If the lifetime virgin theory were correct, the real saint would be sad carpenter Joseph with no place to drive his nail, not Mary bouncing around the world doing good deeds like Bono but failing to keep the home fires lit. Newsflash: families not charities feed the world. Devoted parents give Christmas joy to their children on every continent with or without a magical flying fat man, a global caring rock star, or a conjugal abstaining wonder woman.
Let me be direct. I'll take a brown Christmas without Santa Claus over a white Christmas without Jesus any old December 25th. While my brown sugar and I will be substituting a jacuzzi at a beach hotel for a turkey by a blazing hearth, we know that the two-thousand-year-old gift that keeps on giving beats any gold, frankincense, or myrrh Bono might send us poor folk. Gratitude for what you have makes you rich and gratitude to God makes an abundant Christmas. If you're not looking forward to a happy HOLYday, get out of Pottery Barn and get your ass on over to the Bethlehem barn where a poor brown kid and a star much brighter than Bono let the world know the true meaning of Christmastime.
For those who navigate by that guiding star, tis always the season to be jolly. But for New York readers unfamiliar with the first and last jedi, the alpha and omega rabbi, let me summarize. In the time of the star wars between the evil emperor Herod and the galaxy wandering mystics, a baby was born with whom the force was strong. Despite having his manly light saber circumcised, he used the force to train other jedi with powers like levitating upon water and moving mountains. Today, his disciples inhabit every corner of the world and constantly overcome the scary death star. At Christmas, people of substance celebrate that starlight coming into a dark universe, while others discover once again that no amount of sugar, alcohol, or credit card abuse can bring joy to the world. I love snow, but my holiday wish is that the brown baby inspire everyone to have a joyful, meaningful, and brown Christmas.