There has been a rash of baby Jesus talk around our house this week.
As I’ve been writing for the Valley News for more than 20 years, my faithlessness is hardly a secret. I am an atheist, although the conventional notion of “atheism” is inaccurate. Atheism is a Greek-derived term, best defined as “not a theist.” A theist is one who believes not only in God, but specifically in a God who is active in directing events in human experience — answering prayers and the like. I don’t believe there is such a God, but that does not diminish my astonishment at beauty or my confidence in love.
Theism is not a requirement for celebration of Christmas. I might argue that belief in any kind of a God is not a prerequisite either. But Jesus is an entirely different matter.
The rash of baby Jesus talk is due to the presence of grandchildren. Maddie is 8 and Jack is 4. As Christmas approaches, they have questions. Testing one’s theology or atheology (there should be such a word) on children can challenge the tensile strength of your convictions.
I don’t want my grandchildren, or anyone else’s grandchildren, for that matter, to swallow religious dogma without question. Public rituals like the Pledge of Allegiance or other God-infused language inculcate a tacit acceptance of religion without examination. Life without examination is both boring and dangerous. But children can and should begin the long process of understanding human existence and pondering the inexplicable dimensions of life for which religion proposes a conceptual framework.
Putting aside the irrationality of some religious zealots, theologians offer much to consider. My atheism does not deny the questions that rest beyond the empirically knowable. I simply prefer the mystery to the religious answers. Gazing at the universe is a religious experience for me and I intend to do a lot of it during this holiday season. Music is another, and I suspect that if God exists, she reveals herself in Bach. Instead of taking Maddie and Jack to church services during the holiday season, we’ll look at the stars with a new telescope and listen to Bach, even if they prefer Katy Perry.
But back to baby Jesus.
Maddie and Jack want to know about Jesus and have picked up scattered information from God knows where. We had a brief chat and will have more in the coming days.
I assiduously avoid the virgin birth part, because both birth and virginity are complicated enough for little kids, much less trying to explain them as part of one phrase. But the Jesus story is not beyond their ken.
My wife and I explained that he was a very, very good man who lived a long time ago and cared about everyone. He particularly cared about the people who had the least; poor people, homeless people and hungry people. He cared so much that he was willing to give up his own life so that others’ lives could be better. That’s what Christmas is about, we told them. We are commemorating the birth of someone who was so good and so kind that he is still remembered, 2,000 years later. I am proud and grateful that their parents work for an organization that serves homeless youth, so they already know the sacred nature of that good work.
We are living in a time of dire existential threat due to our assaults on our planet. Whether you believe that God created Earth and humankind or that our planet and existence are the result of complex geological and biological processes, you better believe we are in trouble. In our own country, more and more people are poor and homeless. Our government just took food away from 700,000 hungry people and is still keeping children in cages on our border. Whether or not you believe in God, you better believe we are in trouble.
Jesus would be weeping as we try to shop our way to happiness and turn a blind eye to misery.
But we won’t say that to Maddie and Jack. We want them to sing carols, the lights of Christmas sparkling in their eyes. We want them to feel the excitement that all children deserve and too many are denied.
But over time we want them to know that Christmas is not so much a celebration as it is a solemn reminder of what Jesus meant. A time to hope — or pray — that all people will have comfort and joy.
I wish you a peaceful and reflective Christmas.
Steve Nelson lives in Boulder, Colo., and Sharon. He can be reached at stevehutnelson@gmail.com.