Santa? Snowflakes? Savior?

"Happy Holidays." I wrote this at the top of our "Annual Family Letter" to slip into this year's Christmas Cards. This is the first time we've done a letter, and I'm hesitating. I'm worried that it's not pithy and funny enough, but it seemed convenient to remind everyone where we work and how old the baby is. We're also sending everyone a picture of him. And like every year, I've bought three sets of cards. Religious ones (Mary and Jesus from Gerard David's The Rest on the Flight to Egypt), for religious relatives and art lovers with an affinity for Christian tradition. Wintery ones (snowflakes), mostly for Jewish friends. And Secular Christmas (a cat wearing a Santa Hat), for everyone else.

Every year I consider sending the Cat in a Santa Hat to our Jewish friends. Because the Santa Hat is not a symbol of the same magnitude as Christ on the Cross. They know I observe Christmas. But I know they don't. Not even the contemporary American, Santa Baby, Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer, "9 days til Xmas" Christmas. To those who are alienated by the mainstreaming of Christianity's Major Holiday, Santa is a symbol of their marginalization (as in the joke from the Simpson's, Santa Claus is beloved by everyone, "whether you're Christian, or simply not Jewish.") I know mixed-religion couples who have debated less about bris or baptism and more about whether they could ever have a Christmas Tree in their house. So, I skip it -- and anyway I don't mind the Un-Santa cards: I love snowflakes, or wintry cityscapes, or birds on snowy branches. In a way, it's an opportunity for me to broaden my experience of all that is festive about winter.

And of course, I don't send Mary and Jesus to everyone else. I do value religious worship as part of a community (one reason that I'm Catholic). But Within my Church, an image Mary and Jesus (She is feeding him grapes -- adorably evocative of my own relationship with my own toddler) is precious. Between us, the symbol says: Here is our Mother, and here is our Lord. Here is an painter circa 1510, honoring them with this artistic image. Here am I, sharing them with you.

But with non-Christians, I'm more guarded. Even though I'm fairly bold about sharing my faith, I see it as just that -- a personal faith, that in the context of my culture will always be subjective. I can't prostelytize. So when my Christian symbol might be heard differently, I keep them to myself. Because I'm not saying: "This is what I think Christmas should be about . . . .I am more religious than you . . . You should be Christian. . . I don't care if you don't agree with me."

I hate to make it political. And once you take your faith beyond your faith community, it instantly implicates politics. If I believe Jesus is Right, then it logicially follows that un-Jesus is not right. And what do we when everyone can't be right? How do we incorporate our various faiths into our legal and cultural symptoms? Who's in charge? What happens to minorities? All fascinating questions. I won't stop asking them for fear of being offensive -- and I won't use the phrase "politically correct" to describe anyone who would rather talk about politics than holidays -- But sometimes, I'd rather just say "Merry Christmas."

One of these years, I'll get too busy or bored, and it will be snowflakes for everyone. But for now, I have fun with it, and I have fun thinking about symbols. It's easy to analyze symbols pedanticly. For instance, does the origin of Christmas Trees in pagan nature worship, makes them less potent a symbol of American Christianity? Is "Santa Claus" less religious than "Saint Nicholas?" When people want to come together as a community, holiday traditions and symbols seem like a festive and inclusive way to bring people together. The debates about the removal (and reinstalation) of Christmas Tree display at the Sea-Tac Airport show how important this is to people -- but also remind us that, once symbols have become marginalizing (if not oppressive), their meaning won't go away so easily.

This reflects the core tension of the First Amendment: Free expression of religion and freedom from religious establishment. There's no easy way to respectfully celebrate holidays in a diverse society that values plurality. The reader board by my house ("Happy Holidays, to everyone not offended by the suggestion") is too snarky. But I don't care if it's not easy. If I know whether someone prefers a snowflake over the Santa Cat, or the Santa Cat to Jesus, I'll try to reach out in whatever way helps us celebrate what we share about the season. And when I don't know, one way or another, I might just say, "Merry Christmas." And if someone doesn't want to say it in return, I'll consider myself lucky if they tell me why.