On Sunday night, I sat outside and smelled. I sniffed the air, soaking in that crisp and clean scent of snow that somehow always seems tinged with firewood and peppermint. That aroma means one thing to me: Christmas, my favorite holiday.
To clarify, I am Jewish. I went to Jewish day school, I was active in youth group, spent six weeks in Israel, and grew up in a Jewish family that attended synagogue weekly. That being said, I also grew up in Virginia, a state not known for a large Jewish population. Unlike being here at Northwestern, I was definitively a minority; of the 700 seniors in my graduating class in high school, six of us were Jews. The entire town is draped in Christmas decorations from middle of November until middle of January, and while some Jews may take offense at the indifference the country shows towards Chanukkah, I embrace Christmas. I don’t celebrate it, but surrounded by a community that does, I didn’t grow to hate it. In fact, I absolutely love it.
It’s not what the holiday stands for or religious matters that I love—it’s what happens to us when the time comes. During those 36 or so days between Thanksgiving and New Years Day the whole world seems a bit more magical, as if anything can happen. Snow can fall and devour everything in white innocence and cleanliness and a universal lightheartedness settles in. From Christmas music, which in my car, plays from July straight through New Years Day (much to the chagrin of my passengers) to Christmas movies like Love Actually and It’s a Wonderful Life, Christmas means love and light and big fat men in red suits who give you gifts. I see nothing wrong with this picture.
Rabbi Josh Feigelson of the NU Hillel gave me the rabbinic stamp of approval on my love for chestnuts roasting over an open fire. “There’s no way a Jew living in America today can fail to notice, or be surrounded by, Christmas,” he said in an email. “Judaism doesn’t ask you not enjoy all this: the aroma or the visual appeal of a Christmas tree, the sound of Bing Crosby singing songs by Irving Berlin (a Jew!) Instead, Judaism insists that we be aware of our surroundings and actively choose to maintain our particular identity within them.”
And I do maintain my Jewish identity–my December 24th at home consists of a fancy English-style meal, plum pudding and all, at my best friend’s home, enjoying each others company, and then Chinese food and a movie with my family on Christmas day, a stereotype that couldn’t be more true. My entire synagogue moves temporarily to the Yen Cheng Chinese buffet on Main Street, a different kind of family gathering. It may be a little different than a typical Christmas day gathering, but there’s still the same feeling of togetherness.
I’m not alone in my love for the yuletide cheer. According to a Gallup poll in Dec 2005, 61% of 18 to 29-year-olds think Christmas is either the best time or great time of year.
Molly Baltimore, Weinberg freshman and fellow Jew, thinks that “everything has so much more spirit” this time of year. Like me, she has a little bit of Christmas envy. “When I was little, I lived in Pennsylvania and was the only Jew in my grade. My family gave me one gift on Christmas so I didn’t feel left out.” My family never went that far when I was little, but I can understand why as a little kid she felt that way—Christmas is the one time of year when not celebrating the holiday can make you feel a little left out.
But I still appreciate this time of year. I love the way the lights look in the store windows and on the homes in my suburban winter wonderland. I soak in the smell of pine trees and peppermint mochas, relish the taste of eggnog and cookies, and am absolutely addicted to the “All Christmas music all the time!” radio stations. I love the mall Santas that exist simply to amuse the little kids, and the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling to amuse the big kids. People are simply nicer, whether it’s because they know that the big man up top is watching or because they are looking forward to a few days off work, always ending every conversation with “Merry Christmas.” This time of year, everything seems to have a little bit of glitter and razzle-dazzle on it, and even if you don’t believe in the religion behind the season, there’s no denying its power to spread cheer.
There are, of course, those cynics and haters of the holiday, who find the happiness grating and the music nothing by cheesy. Some may say that the holiday starts too early, encourages consumerism, leads to some serious weight gain and has been transformed into something other then a religious holiday. However, to those Grinches among us, I challenge you to watch a child open a present on Christmas morning with sheer delight and not smile. Watch a happy family come up to your door to sing a carol. Try taking advantage of the consumerism to buy things on sale, let the green wreaths brighten up an otherwise bleak winter, and recognize the simple pleasures of the holidays.
So, with Thanksgiving just around the corner and the generally-accepted Christmastime beginning the day after that, I encourage the appreciation and love of this holiday, whether or not you actually celebrate it. To my fellow Jews or any Christmas-haters, don’t get offended when someone wishes you a Merry Christmas. Rather, smile, and be glad that there’s one time of year where we can all find a common reason to be happy. And don’t forget to enjoy the pretty lights and the eggnog lattes at Norbucks.