When action heroes join forces

I remember I was playing in jazz band a few years ago when our trombonist, who doubled as our emcee, announced that we were going to “play a few Christmas carols.” I was nonplussed, because the first song on our set list was “Jingle Bell Rock.” Add our trombonist to the long list of those who confuse the sacred and the secular elements of Christmas.

It is pretty hard to keep the two traditions straight. The one-horse open sleigh—that’s Santa, right? The manger—Jesus. The little drummer boy? We’ll, he doesn’t show up in the Bible, but he’s not exactly on Mel Torme’s Roasting Chestnuts team either. Star of Wonder— that’s sacred. Reindeer in the sky—secular. A wassailing? Tough call, that one; except that you don’t find much of it going on with RIDE programs everywhere.

And what about the Christmas tree? “Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree”: definitely a hymn and therefore one for the Jesus side, right? But the tradition only dates back as far as renaisssance Germany, so its origins are secular. And what about the “presents ‘neath the tree”? You’d be tempted to put that one in Santa’s column, except that gift-giving was initiated by the three wise men to celebrate Jesus’s birth.

Come to think about it, Christmas music is about the clearest divide indicator of them all. If it’s beautiful, it’s probably sacred; if its schlocky, it’s no doubt secular.

There is probably room in the market somewhere for a guide that makes a definitive classification between those two elements of our Christmas culture. But that’s not my task at the moment. I am looking for the synergies between our secular and sacred traditions.

What I’m thinking is that there is room for Jesus and Santa to make common cause.

On the surface, it’s a pretty good fit. Doing all those shopping mall gigs in the six months leading up to Christmas must be a killer for Santa; he could stand to be spelled off for a while. And spreading the message of peace on earth and goodwill to men must sometimes seem like a Sisyphean struggle for Jesus; He could use some cheerful encouragement.

Viewed as action hereos, they have complementary action specialities. Santa could whiz Jesus around the world on his sleigh, freeing up some downtime, and show Him how to slide down sooty chimneys without getting His uniform dirty. And Jesus could show Santa how to stretch out a few loaves and fishes and turn water into wine, which would keep Santa’s present budget in check.

More importantly, their combined message would be much more powerful than Santa’s alone. With Jesus behind him, Santa could stop thinking about the presents he brings as being so many electronic goods under the tree and instead find more effective ways to deliver the gift of compassion to those of us who need it. Maybe he could drop the faux ‘naughty or nice’ routine that allows us all to expect our material rewards whatever our conduct has been. Maybe together they could help us drop the pretence that everybody always has a “Holly Jolly, Ho Ho Ho, Merry Christmas”; and instead acknowledge that for many, Christmas is just a black hole fueling painful memories of lost loved ones. Maybe that salutation itself would begin to sound a little less hollow and more sincere.

If they did make common cause, Jesus and Santa would have us right where they wanted us if their joint message still didn’t move us. Because the next logical step would be to withdraw their services completely. No more Christmas Eve dashing hither and yon over the continents. No more inspirational nativity pageants. Even the Great NHL Lockout of 2012 would pale into insignificance by comparison.

Eventually, however, we’d beg them come back, whatever their terms, so we might as well comply with their action message when it’s delivered in a positive way. Exercise compassion? You bet! Lose the materialism? Will do! Never play that wretched song “Jingle Bell Rock” again, whether or not it be a carol? Well… all right, that too.

David Simmonds’s writing is also available at www.grubstreet.ca.