How does verbally thrashing someone for saying “Happy holidays” keep Christ in Christmas?

As a Christ worshiper and ambassador of Heaven, I am grieved to see well-meaning Christians do harm to others, rob themselves of joy, and sully the reputation of the collective body of Christ when they respond with passionate disgust or even anger at the use of holiday greetings other than their favorite. Allow me to admit my hypocrisy. I am recovering from a long history of bigotry toward secularists. As one called to rescue the perishing, I do recognize the urgency for sharing the Gospel of Jesus with a dying world. To my shame and regret I have often attempted the blunt approach with exactly two predictable outcomes: I was left exhausted and embittered, and my prospects were wounded and repelled by my assault. To which would a drowning person more enthusiastically respond – an outreached hand or a sharp and jagged firebrand?

Jesus Christ gently extended himself to outsiders. The only ones with whom he was aggressive were those religious elite who, abusing their authority, made coming to God difficult for the common men and women of that day. Christ gently caressed the untouchable leper. He sat and talked with the shunned Samaritan adulteress. He welcomed the children, fed the hungry, healed the sick, and loved the hopeless. He went out of his way to save and serve, even crossing realms to pluck you and me out of the mire we were in. Shall I say nothing of the Passion of Christ, who accepted abuse and tolerated torture for a world of soiled sinners? Who are we to sling mud now?

“Happy holidays!” does not exclude Christmas. Considering how one might come to a decision to utter those words rather than the seasonal ear candy of our own palette, we would recognize that those in the retail industry are, by necessity, trained to broaden their appeal to be welcoming and inclusive of all their patrons. Standing in the shoes of a retailer, we might see every N^th patron awkwardly squirm at our preferred greeting until one bold enough finally explained how excluded it made them feel. None of us who have the Spirit of Christ want to purposefully wound another, and most of us who have associates of other faiths truly do want them to enjoy the holiday of their preference. If someone entered our store wearing a sweater adorned with a menorah and stars, we would likely employ our deductive skills or divine discernment to wish that visitor a “Happy Chanukah!” feeling triumphant for having avoided an awkward conflict. Why then do we stammer and stomp when the more generalized blessing is given to us as though it was a dagger to our egos? Why do we cringe when someone outside the retail industry seeks to avoid those same conflicts?

Jesus taught that we should pray in his Name boldly with reverence before God, but was discreet about promoting it himself. Under the blanket of American religious freedom, there is no reason to be timid about Christ, and I do not mean to excuse the religious coward. John’s epistles, however, make it clear that the first identifying characteristic of a Christian is love, not the type on their greeting card, the decal on their bumper, or the print on their T-shirt. Love. How are we dying to self and living to Christ if we bristle when others choose a phrase not our own? What does it say about our discipleship to do unto others as we would have them do unto us when we turn the pruning hooks and plow shares entrusted to us into spears and swords to pierce the ones Christ died to save?

This year, when your ear is pricked by the alien ring of “Happy holidays,” remember that among peace, joy, and love, the greatest is love. Ask yourself which response would bring the most glory to God in the highest, and on Earth peace, goodwill toward men. Recall the prayer of our brother, Francis of Assisi:

“O, Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; it is in dying that we are born again to eternal life.”

Consider responding warmly when the chill of this Winter is pierced by an off-pitch greeting, a misfired blessing, or an imperfect gesture. The greatest gift of Christmas is a perfect Savior for those of us who don’t deserve Him.

No one is a hero who tries to beat God to their appointment with death.

It is hard not to be critical when I hear Big Media and even some of my friends applauding the so-called “bravery” of a girl who committed suicide because she was diagnosed with a terminal disease. Newsflash, folks: we are all going to die eventually! We were each born with a terminal condition called “Humanity.” Some people might develop symptoms that indicate to medical professionals approximately how many months remain but the truth is none of us knows if today is our graduation day. No one is a hero who tries to beat God to their appointment with death. There is a choice concerning death, but it is not in the terms of departure. The choice is in the post-mortem destination.

Two concerns emerge here. First is the horrific idea of “freedom of choice” being applied to mortality. No one has the right to choose death; not their neighbor’s, not their spouse’s, not their own, not their unborn child’s. Murder is wrong every day, always. The second is that if we permit people to self-terminate because of a medical condition, what is to stop us tomorrow from permitting the termination of life for less permanent diagnoses? Or non-medical ones? What next? Organized suicide parties like Carousel in Logan’s Run? This cultural generation that has made Walking Dead the number one show on-air is being programmed to believe that it is okay to kill anything that deviates from a pattern that benefits them.

I have been strongly affected by the suicides and suicide attempts of others. Any notion that suicide affects only the one whose life is terminated is ludicrous. Though the main loss is the surrender of the practitioner’s spiritual outcome, every life is connected to other lives, and every broken connection represents a loss. It is the eternal, irrevocable equivalent of taking your ball and going home just because you don’t like the projected outcome of the game. Anyone who would kill themselves just to keep from dying another way has at least one more day’s worth of growing up to do.

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