The joys of Xmas, the wonder of parenting, the complexities of family, the distinctions between religions and cults, and the compassionate dignity of locating the sacred in our mortal humanity. Julian offers an atheist reflection on the holidays that is equal parts heartwarming, thought-provoking, and (perhaps) inspiring. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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| By the time you hear this, I most likely will have been woken up too early by my five-year-old daughter. | |
| There won't have been time to put in my contact lenses, as is my preference, so, thickly bespectacled in a half-awake haze, giant coffee mug in my hand, the bitter caffeine and creamy half-and-half will slowly be infused with the sincere enthusiasm we only have as children and only truly get to witness and half-remember as parents. | |
| My unwashed body will glow with her joy. | |
| My sleep-sour mouth will exclaim mildly, throat cracking a little, as Isabel delights in the reindeer's half-eaten carrot, the cookie that Santa left behind alongside the crumbs of the one he apparently devoured appreciatively, and the array of gifts, mostly for her, piled around the incandescent tree. | |
| If your family participates, you'll probably be on the other side of your Christmas morning by now, too. | |
| Hello Conspirituality Patrons. | |
| Merry Christmas if you're celebrating today. | |
| These are my atheist reflections on belief, play, fantasy, parenting, cults, and religion. | |
| It will hopefully be heartwarming for the first part, especially once I get to talking about my 5 year old's lovey. | |
| thought-provoking and perhaps a bit taboo in the middle, and perhaps even somewhat inspiring, | |
| but hopefully not too preachy by the end. | |
| Yes, you heard me right. | |
| We actually do have a tree. | |
| Ornamented. | |
| Lit up. | |
| Yes, my mother-in-law wouldn't miss for the world the familiar ritual of bearing a bleary-eyed smiling witness to the magic of Christmas morning. | |
| She flies in from New Orleans most years and sleeps on the god-awful sofa bed in my back studio. | |
| As you may know, New Orleans is very Catholic, but also very eclectic spiritually, given the delicious French, Spanish, African, Native American, Creole, and Cajun cultural gumbo that runs in its blood. | |
| Like a lot of adults who grew up Catholic and went to an all-girls Catholic school, my wife, for her part, feels no need to indoctrinate our child with the macabre symbols of Christianity, as if these somehow are the uniquely effective incantations required to transmit moral values. | |
| Perhaps my choice of words here reveals my relief. | |
| My experiences at church school contain precisely nothing I would want to pass on to my daughter. | |
| Over this difference, there is some mild tension with my wife's mother, but it mostly goes unspoken, at least when I'm in the room. | |
| She's a very thoughtful and kind person. | |
| We know she would love to be able to introduce Isabel to the church and to stories about this very special person named Jesus, to teach her how to dutifully say her prayers before bed. | |
| But despite there never having been a big blow up or debate on the topic, she does quietly respect that we're not comfortable with it. | |
| Any of it. | |
| In a recent discussion on the podcast, Matthew referenced in passing the value of community building that he associates with Catholicism. | |
| I can certainly see that. | |
| But as part of a list of fun and wholesome family activities, he mentioned a nearby Christmas parade which, he said, might feature a shirtless and blood-spattered Christ, perhaps portrayed by a long-haired member of the local heavy metal band. | |
| I get the inclusive spirit of what he was saying there, but, you know, as someone with a young child, we've deliberately chosen to shield from the normalized iconography of the holy torture and execution necessary as a cosmic sacrifice to ensure human salvation and eternal life. | |
| That really just sounded disturbing to me. | |
| And look, I get that the story of Christmas is mostly about the blessed arrival of that very special Holy Spirit-inseminated baby magically born without earthly sex. | |
| So why focus on the gruesome ending of that story, you may say? | |
| Well, don't we celebrate that holy child because he has come into the world under a glowing star as God on Earth, predestined to die for all of our sins? | |
| Okay, blood sacrifice aside, I will admit, as a teenager, I swore up and down that if I ever had a child, I would not lie to them about the existence of Santa Claus, or Father Christmas as we call him in South Africa. | |
| Or the Tooth Fairy, or the Easter Bunny for that matter. | |
| At the time, my binary logic calculated the inevitable betrayal and disappointment as simply not worth the joy of the fantasy. | |
| I also felt that the very real love and generosity of parents was oddly displaced onto this imaginary figure who brought the real presence, and this seemed sad to me then. | |
| This is all typical, budding, rational, humanist stuff, no doubt. | |
| But as I grew up, and especially as a parent, I've come to see the magical thinking, the fantasy figures, the rich imagination of children as valuable, important, and indeed age-appropriate. | |
| As all parents know, the collusion in the fun of a child's fantasy life extends far beyond the candy and presents, the holidays, to include TV shows, their characters, and also stuffies. | |
| It is really about the indispensable empathy that makes the shared world of play possible. |