Panel debates meaning of Holiday Season, reflects on New Year

jsheppard

Globe and Mail Update

The annual "Holiday Season" is drawing to a close.



Traditionally, it's a time for people of faith to participate in one of their religion's major celebrations.



Traditionally, it's also a time for everyone — regardless of whether they have religious beliefs — to reflect upon the year that has just ended and to prepare for the year ahead.



How do you mark this annual passage?



globeandmail.com has invited our semi-regular panel from several major faith-based communities and a representative of the atheist/humanist/free thinker groups to address that question.



As usual, the panelists are each writing a short essay, which we are publishing as we receive them. They will also take questions from our readers today.

Join the Conversation or submit a question or comment .



The essays, questions and answers are being published at the bottom of this page, as noted above.



The faith panelists will be addressing the question:



"What does your faith/creed say about Christmas, Hanukkah, Eid and what does the celebration mean to you personally? How does the observation and reflection help you prepare for the year ahead?"



The free thinker on the panel will tackle the same subject — end-of-year contemplation and preparation for the next — without the religious component.



The members of our panel are:



Michael Higgins Michael W. Higgins is President of St. Thomas University in Fredericton, N.B., and Past President of St. Jerome's University in the University of Waterloo.

Dr. Higgins is a broadcaster, author and co-author of numerous books and CBC Ideas series, including Heretic Blood, The Muted Voice, Power and Peril and Stalking the Holy.




Jennifer A. Harris Jennifer A. Harris is an Anglican Christian. She is assistant professor of Christianity and Culture at the University of Toronto.

Her teaching interests include Christianity and contemporary popular culture, sacred space, and the Bible in medieval society.





Lorna Dueck Lorna Dueck, an Evangelical Christian journalist, writes a monthly column for The Globe and Mail.

She also hosts Listen Up TV , a weekly newsmagazine on spiritual perspectives in current events, seen Sundays on Global TV, and Thursdays on CTS, Salt and Light TV and Christian Channel.




Rabbi Ed Elkin Rabbi Ed Elkin has been the spiritual leader of the First Narayever Congregation in downtown Toronto since 2000.

Born in New York, he graduated from Princeton University and has worked or studied in Canada, the U.S. and Israel.





Sheema Khan Sheema Khan also writes a monthly column for The Globe. She has a Masters degree in physics and a Ph.D. in chemical physics from Harvard. She has worked in R&D, is an inventor and has worked at law firms in intellectual property law.

Ms. Khan also served as chair of the Canadian Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR-CAN) from 2000-2005.




Justin Trottier Justin Trottier is executive director of the Centre for Inquiry

Ontario, making him the first full-time paid staff member at the first venue dedicated to humanists and freethinkers in Canada.

He is co-founder of the political advocacy group Canadian Secular Alliance, as well as president of the multimedia outreach group Freethought Association of Canada.



Editor's Note: globeandmail.com editors will read and allow or reject each question/comment. Comments/questions may be edited for length or clarity. HTML is not allowed. We will not publish questions/comments that include personal attacks on participants in these discussions, that make false or unsubstantiated allegations, that purport to quote people or reports where the purported quote or fact cannot be easily verified, or questions/comments that include vulgar language or libellous statements. Preference will be given to readers who submit questions/comments using their full name and home town, rather than a pseudonym.



Michael Higgins: Christmas — the Nativity of Jesus Christ — is a signal feast, not because it evokes the warm memories associated with family gatherings, ample food and drink (modestly consumed, of course), measured revelry, carol-saturation, bustling crowds in the cathedrals of consumerism, buckets of snow (in New Brunswick this takes on added significance), and all the bric-a-brac of the holiday season, although these are all legitimate components of the festivity, but because the Incarnation, the enfleshment of divinity, is a radical and irreversible rupture of the smooth and settled garment that is time.

For the Roman Catholic believer, the birth of Jesus is the introduction of a "new time," a new dispensation, a new ordering. Things are no longer the same. And what is true for humanity in the collective is true for me as an individual.

The aftershocks of this "newness," this wondrous illustration of God's limitless and surprising love, plays itself out in my own life and in the life of every believer in unique ways.

The Incarnation, then, is at the heart of the feast, for it is a birth unlike any other, made gentle in the night but fierce in its promise of liberation.

For me, to incarnate the love of Christ, to give form to his hope-engendering witness, to taste something of the promise of the utterly radical freedom he offers, is the birthing of Christmas in me.

As I look to the new year about to unfold with all its mystery, mayhem, marvel and misery — because I have no doubt that the chronology will consist of this potent mixture — I reflect on what it must have been like for the parents of Jesus, unsure, shaken with foreboding (think of Herod and his ilk), gripped by an inexplicable joy, full of the genuine richness and excitement that accompanies new birth, and yet overwhelmed with the majesty of an insignificant birth in an insignificant region of an empire of impressive magnitude.

There is an unexpected beauty in such knowledge.

Liberating. Peace-creating.

Justin Trottier: Humanists hold an ambivalence regarding this season.

Like mostly everyone, we value generosity, altruism and fellowship, and emphasize the need to celebrate in a secular sense with friends and family, with good food and drinks, with songs and even decoration.

We see nothing wrong with adapting religious holidays to secular festivities, considering that Christmas is almost entirely a loose adaptation of various formerly pagan rituals. We also appreciate the sense of reinvigoration when we crack open brand-new calendars and behold the unwritten future.

But humanists see no intrinsic value to the holiday season apart from any we humans put in it, and worry that if we over-emphasize specific days and rituals, we fail to put the holiday in its proper historical, political and sociological context.

We must realize how differently the season is celebrated by the human family depending on where and when you are.

This not only provides us a valuable lesson in diversity but reminds us that while celebrating with our local family, there is a global family that needs our support, one to which we are related through the bonds of evolution.

Through a deep understanding of common descent and common humanity, humanist groups — like our friends in religious institutions — host many social and community support programs both locally and internationally, including food drives and blood clinics.

Humanists value self-reflection but are concerned if it is only taken seriously once a year.

Since most of us are atheists, an afterlife is out, so we must make the most of every day or at least pause for self-reflection following significant life events, rather than on arbitrary calendar dates.

Speaking personally now, my reflections revolve around the powerful symbols and metaphors afforded by the New Year.

As the Earth completes another revolution around the Sun, it is an ideal time to reflect on our place in the cosmos in a physical and philosophical sense.

It is an opportunity to reflect on how our knowledge of those big questions has advanced over the last year, thanks to scientific and critical inquiry.

The metaphor of a single year is often used to communicate vast time in science.

The astronomer Carl Sagan famously used a Cosmic Calendar in which 15 billion years of cosmic evolution was scaled down to a single year. Here, events can be put in context. The Big Bang takes place on New Year's Day. Our solar system is not born until Rosh Hashanah in mid September. Modern humans do not evolve until six minutes before the next New Year's Eve countdown.

Scaling down the evolution of life on Earth to a single year, we find single-celled organisms dominating the planet until Thanksgiving and dinosaurs not leaving until Christmas Day.

This is worth pondering.

Humanists see all beliefs as tentative and open to revision in the light of new information — a view we wish was more commonly embraced. Humanists value self-reflection over self-deception.

As our knowledge expands through discoveries made by other humans, it is an opportunity to think of what we discovered being wrong about this year. The Edge Annual question for 2008, part of the Third Culture, a forum for creating a culture of science, was "How have scientific findings or arguments changed your mind?" asked of the world's leading scientists and thinkers.

It is interesting — given the attributes of hubris and arrogance often attributed to scientists, and in particular atheists — to see people like the New Atheists Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins and Daniel Dennett freely and even enthusiastically admitting to an important area of their own thinking in which they were fundamentally mistaken.

I think we could all benefit from such an activity, no less than once a year.

The emphasis on New Year and end-of-year holidays stems from the remarkable discovery made by the ancients that there is regularity to the cycle of seasons and to life and the universe.

This crucial understanding of orderliness made through human faculties and now honed by scientific inquiry perhaps makes these holidays the perfect celebration of human reason.

Jennifer Harris: Christmas celebrates the birth of Jesus of Nazareth, who Anglican Christians believe to be the coming of God in human flesh.

This birth, commemorated on 25 December, signifies the redemption of matter from decay, of the human situation from sin, and of history (into which God enters decisively) from futility.

So momentous an occasion follows upon weeks of anticipation, which in the church calendar is called Advent. It is this combination — a season of waiting followed by great joy — that shapes the Christmas season.

It is, in fact, the season of Advent that I find most helpful at the end of the year. The weeks of waiting for the coming of God in Christ helps me focus on the meaning of God's intervention in history.

While the secular world focuses on Christmas alone, as a fitting time for the exchange of gifts and the taking of days off work, the Christian community waits actively, reflecting upon the coming of God as a babe in Bethlehem, but also on the second coming of Christ at the end of time.

It is the waiting and the hoping that, I feel, provides the real occasion of preparation for the year to come.

Much is made of the secularization of Christmas in our post-Christian world. With this shift to commerce over renewal and rejoicing, we have lost the sense of anticipation.

Of course, children still know well the meaning of waiting for Christmas, of the eager hope. And, like the

proverbial puppy, this waiting is not just for Christmas, it is for life.

So the gift of Christmas for me is another chance to experience not only Christ's coming to a manger, but as lord of history.

History, that is, the human condition, is renewed at Christmas, and this gives me hope, as well as purpose.

Waiting must not be a passive thing. There is much to do in this world.

Advent and Christmas remind me that living in hope means working in the world to help make manifest renewal and redemption.

Of course, some of this renewal is marked with the making (and breaking!) of New Year's resolutions.

This year, along with getting more exercise, it is my hope that I can live more fully, in active anticipation of the ongoing transformation of our world.

Lorna Dueck: The doctrine of my evangelical Christian faith uses Dec. 25 to Jan. 6 to celebrate and reflect on the Incarnation and manifestation of Jesus Christ — God in human form entering our history.

We believe Jesus is our Messiah and his arrival on Earth in the form of a baby, divinely conceived in the Virgin Mary's womb, is the method God used to begin the process of salvation.

We use Advent to observe this mystery starting on the fourth Sunday before Dec. 25, using each Sunday to mark four unique gifts of God with us: hope, joy, peace and love.

Many Christian homes prompt their recall of this teaching with Advent calendars — colourful and cheap paper displays that have little doors that are opened each day to reveal a chocolate, nativity character or verse.

Devout mothers use Advent to remind children of the anticipation of waiting for more of God in our lives. When New Year's arrives, this faith in "God with us" is shifted into personal reflection with church sermons and challenges to begin a new start for our lives.

We are encouraged to enter into extended prayer and reflection, heading off to quiet retreat, often to consider the two most important commandments of God — "to love God with all our heart, soul and mind and to love our neighbour as ourselves."

Ideally, New Year's gives us time to think and pray about what that will mean to us.

What will faith look like when it is lived out practically? What will salvation mean in my life, and will it be shared with the world around me?

With that reflective spirit and questioning mind prepared, New Year's can then be spent in an attitude of thankfulness, celebrating how we have experienced God with us in the past year.

This quiet reflection in prayer often results in heart-felt encounters of repentance and confession of sin, asking God to forgive our shortcomings.

The spiritual experience of New Year then helps set personal resolution of the will which will guide our God-consciousness for our activities in the days ahead.

Jim Sheppard, Executive Editor, globeandmail.com: To our readers, Ms. Dueck also wrote a column in today's Globe on the Comment Page on similar themes How we really renew faith during the Christmas season

Rabbi Ed Elkin: Hanukkah is a holiday which affords Jews the opportunity to reflect on both the possibilities and the limits of Jewish accommodation to the demands of the wider society in which they live.

The story of the Maccabees is situated at a time when the Hellenistic rulers of the land of Israel wanted to enforce assimilation by forbidding certain ancient Jewish practices, such as circumcision, the Sabbath, and observance of the dietary laws.

The Maccabees said "no" and it is the success of their revolt that we commemorate each year at Hanukkah time.

What's fascinating, however, is that after their extraordinary victory, the Maccabees themselves Hellenized in many significant ways. It turns out that there was much in Hellenistic culture which attracted them. By that time, however, they were able to work out a way to allow certain Hellenistic ideas and practices into Judaism without threatening core Jewish identity.

In many ways, Jews today are still trying to work out what constitutes a path which both honours the ways of our ancestors and honours the reality of our lives today, living in the midst of a very powerful western culture.

Unlike our ancestors living at the time of the Hanukkah story, we in Canada are blessed to live in a society which fosters the development of individual cultures and traditions and belief-systems within the larger whole.

So our challenge is very different, but is still not simple for us.

When we light the menorah each night of Hanukkah, we give thanks for the courage of the Maccabees — without whose resistance, our people probably would not have survived at that difficult time.

By telling the story of the oil miracle each year, we remember the way in which God helped us at that dark time, and we pray that God will be there for us as we face the Jewish challenges of our own time.

One of those challenges is the overwhelming nature of Christmas in our society. As non-Christians, we know that the holiday commemorating the birth of Jesus is clearly not "our" holiday. Yet it is inescapable at this time of year, especially for families with kids.

The proximity of Hanukkah to Christmas allows Jews to have their own celebration at a time when their Christian neighbours are enjoying their big holiday. This fortuitous timing has helped transform Hanukkah from a relatively minor holiday on the Jewish calendar to one of the most widely observed, and most beloved, of Jewish traditions.

Unusually for a Jewish holiday, Hanukkah is not found anywhere in the Bible. The events it describes take place after the Bible was already canonized.

As a people, we are of course rooted in the Bible, but our history has continued — thanks in part to the courage of Jews like the Maccabees over the generations.

So when we spin the dreidl, eat the latkes, and light the menorah each year, we remember who we are and how much we have to give thanks for.

Sheema Khan: Last month, Muslims worldwide celebrated Eid-ul-Adha ("feast of sacrifice"), which occurs on the 10th day of Dhul-Hijjah, the 12th lunar month of the Islamic calendar. It commemorates the intention of Prophet Abraham to sacrifice his son Ismail (a willing participant) as testimony of their devotion to God. Just prior to the sacrifice, God accepted a ram in place of Ismail.

In this event, Muslims are reminded that belief is rooted in the willingness to give of that which one truly loves. And to remember that it is not the flesh and blood of the sacrifice that reaches God, but rather the piety in one's heart.

In preparation for Eid-ul-Adha, Muslims worldwide sacrifice sheep, goats, and other livestock. The meat is distributed to the needy. Eid-ul-Adha begins with community prayers, followed by celebration and family gatherings.

I remember celebrating Eid-ul-Adha during a childhood visit to my father's farming village in India. As I was preparing to return to Canada, my mother encouraged me to give one of my favourite possessions to my cousin. At first, I said "no." However, she gently reminded me of the spirit of sacrifice. I readily gave that which I loved. It's a lesson that has stayed with me throughout life.

Eid-ul-Adha is also linked to the hajj (pilgrimage), which each adult Muslim of sound mind is required to perform once during one's life, provided s/he has the financial means to do so. It is an arduous journey. Rites of worship are performed in Mecca and surrounding areas. Once again, we follow in the footsteps of Prophet Abraham, and also re-enact the search of a dynamic woman — Hajirah — for water for her infant son Ismail.

About two million Muslims — from Azerbaijan to Saskatchewan — converge on Mecca during this time. Equal before God, they offer their solemn worship to the One God (in Arabic, "Allah"), in the spirit of humility and brotherhood.

I was blessed with the opportunity to perform hajj in 1995 and came away with a profound appreciation for the tremendous abundance of gifts we have in Canada.

I also witnessed many acts of kindness and sacrifice on the part of so many ordinary people, that my faith in the goodness in humanity increased. Cynicism had been replaced by optimism that the human spirit can prevail in the face of challenges.

The Islamic "new year" begins next week at the end of Dhul-Hijjah. Since the Islamic calendar is shorter by about 10 days, the Islamic new year will begin around January 1st in 2009.

We don't mark this date as an auspicious occasion. However, there are several times throughout the year when we reflect on our past, seek to improve from within as we plan for our future. It occurs daily through prayer, and through special events such as the fasting of Ramadan and the sacrifice of Eid-ul-Adha.

Jim Sheppard, Executive Editor, globeandmail.com: Thanks very much, panelists. Let's move on to the questions and answers.

Jasmine Francis, Halifax: You are all people of very strong — if very different — beliefs.

I'd be curious to know how you all use those beliefs to make the decisions that shape your lives.

I suspect that, for the big issues in life, you pray (or not in the case of Mr. Trottier), think about beliefs/value systems and use them to help you make decisions.

But how far does that go? Do you stop and do this daily with the small to medium challenges we all face? Is there time to do that in our busy world? How important does an issue have to be before you think through your beliefs to make sure you are making the correct decision?

Michael Higgins: Jasmine Francis's queries are substantive and require a substantive response — a tome's worth, I should think.

You are right to opine that one's value system/belief structure doesn't just impinge on a person's life, it shapes it.

Daily decision-making, as it affects my job, my family, my life, is both daunting and instinctive. In other words, although if I were to allow every decision to be weighed for its consequences and inherent rightness, I would probably be reduced to inaction.

I need to rely on my conscience, a natural moral instinct if you like, to be my immediate, reliable, but not infallible guide.

My faith is constituitive of my moral sense. How could it be otherwise?

Justin Trottier: The amount of time and resources I place in a decision scales with the significance of that decision to my life, at least as much as I can possibly anticipate.

I do not pray. Even if I believed in god, I do not think I would feel special enough to call on god to intrude in the laws of nature on my behalf, considering the number of people praying for the end of far larger suffering than anything I've ever experienced (and whose prayers go daily unanswered).

The main belief at my disposal is that there are no absolutes and the main value is the one I place on free and critical inquiry. This leads me to read, consult experts and, most importantly, experiment by taking risks on a variety of approaches to a given problem.

Jennifer Harris: I wish that I prayed more and better but admit that I am not very good at the whole prayer thing.

There is the matter of one's conscience which, as a Christian, I believe to be a portion of my reflection of God's image.

This doesn't mean that I can always tell the right from the wrong. But paying close attention to the sensations of my conscience is, I think, a reflection of that. It is also, a reflection of the values of my culture and upbringing.

Lorna Dueck: Hi, Jasmine. This is a good question to ask and a hard one to answer.

We can never assume our actions will be affected by our belief in God. Sometimes they are, but often we must choose very deliberately that they will be.

For me, it means I am almost daily setting time aside for Bible-directed meditation, education and prayer. By understanding the source material of my faith, I then head out into decision-making rather instinctively and somewhat carefree until, instinctively, my conscious triggers that I am on an issue that matters.

It could be something like being rude to my spouse, how I react to a doctor's diagnosis, or even how I vote.

Then, even more than pray, I have to stop and think. I think about what are the facts of my faith and belief, and then try to adjust my mental picture to respond accordingly.

For example, the Bible verse Philippians 4:8 "whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things" helps adjust my attitude and affects my decisions, but only if I'm familiar enough with it to recall it, only if I've meditated on it long enough to internalize it.

That's why I find Christian decision-making requires not only prayer, but attentiveness to education and thought before actions are affected.

The more familiar you are with your source material, the more inspired decision-making becomes. Still, there are many instances for struggle to have integrity with belief and actions.

I find the "Two Dogs" story from Zen and Native Spirituality applies here. I have two dogs within me fighting, (a sin nature, a godly nature). One dog is mean, one dog is good. Whichever one I feed the most wins.

It takes conscious effort to make sure our good decision-making is getting the source material and education it needs.

Sheema Khan: Hello, Jasmine. Thank you for an excellent question.

Yes, I seek guidance from God every day — for small and large things.

On a daily basis, I take time out to pray five times a day. It is a wonderful break, and puts life into perspective. Whether it is looming deadlines at work, or dealing with family dynamics at home, I welcome the opportunity to stop, focus, and pour my heart and feelings to my Creator. In this busy world, it is essential that we take time out to refresh our souls.

As for making decisions in life (whether these are big or small), we have a special prayer called "Istikharah."

For example, this is sometimes used to decide on a marriage proposal. Basically, one prays to God for guidance on how to proceed on a matter.

Robert Blakey, Calgary: Despite the paranoia that causes such companies as The Globe and Mail to wish people "Happy Holidays," does any member of the panel personally know any Jews, Muslims, Hindus, etc. who are offended by the words "Merry Christmas?"

I believe our society has been improved by immigrants from every country in the world, because of, among other things, what they contribute culturally to Canada.

Is it really fair to put on their shoulders the blame for that widely ridiculed "Happy Holidays" greeting when they didn't even ask for it?

Aaron C., Toronto: I find the term "holiday season" offensive, since not everyone believes in holidays. As an alternative, I suggest the more inclusive and politically correct "winter." What do you think?

Jennifer Harris: I find the whole matter over-blown. When people wish me "happy holidays," I take this in the spirit with which it was intended. If someone wishes me "Happy Hanukkah," I would do likewise.

The idea that our public discourse must, or even could, be emptied of all religious specificity is a faulty one.

Lorna Dueck: No, I have never personally met someone offended by the words "Merry Christmas."

I don't like changing "holiday season" to the term "winter" because I think we are desperately in need of a generosity of spirit on giving ourselves and others genuine holidays.

The Bible is punctuated with more than 20 "holidays" a year and, of course, there is the weekly Sabbath when people were also told to not work.

We need to keep promoting the word "holiday." We were designed to enjoy it.

Sheema Khan: Hello, Robert. Good question!

I personally do not know of any Muslims offended by "Merry Christmas," although I have heard second-hand of a few who do not welcome this greeting.

In fact, one Muslim mother I know wanted her children to know more about the religious origins of Christmas so that they would appreciate the religious sentiments of her classmates. She was disappointed to find out that the pubic school system did not provide an educational aspect of the spiritual basis of Christmas.

Personally, I find the political correctness regarding Christmas somewhat odd. It is celebrated by the vast majority of Canadians, who should have the right to celebrate it without feeling that they have offended anyone.

I welcome greetings of Eid, and have wished my friends the best for Christmas, Hannukah and Diwali.

While the sentiment behind a term such as "winter holidays" is appreciated, it does not acknowledge anything special about an individual's celebration.

We can be inclusive by acknowledging that which is very real and personal, rather than a "one-size-fits-all" term.

Michael Higgins: On the touchy matter of nomenclature — "Happy Holidays," etc., — I am inclined to the view that the specificity of a greeting is a compliment, a way of acknowledging the uniqueness of festive occasions and their genesis, and that in a genuinely respectful multicultural and multifaith environment such greetings would not be seen as intrusive, offensive, or triumphalistic.

In my experience, people of deep faith and genuine religious conviction are not outraged by particular reference to a holiday with national standing, irrespective of its history or cultural importance, if they sense its authenticity and are in justified in expecting reciprocity when it comes to their own cherished holy days.

"Happy Holidays" is banal, dully generic, and anodyne.

Justin Trottier: Yes, I know plenty of non-Christian believers and unbelievers who are offended by public displays of religiousity and who do ask for them to be removed or altered.

I believe in the separation of church and state and the neutrality of government with respect to religious belief or lack of belief.

De facto secularism has worked quite well in maintaining the functioning of our democracy, to the benefit of both the religious and the non-religious, and I would not see it eroded.

This is undermined by such things as Christmas trees and Hanukkah menorahs outside governmental buildings, by government-sanctioned religious legal arbitration, by the special rights accorded religious over secular charities, by the use of god invoking prayers at public graduation ceremonies and by the continued funding of Catholic Separate public schools, to name but a few examples on which I was personally involved.

Returning to the issue at hand, whether newspapers, companies and private institutions ought to be mandated to say "Happy Holidays" or refer to it generically as the "winter season" is not something I would support.

On the other hand, if they so choose to do so in the interests of diversity, inclusively, widening their circle of good will considering the supposed message of this season, or simply for capitalistic profit-making, that should be their free and uncompromising choice.

In answer to Aaron's question, I find it curious how much ink is spilt on the free expression rights of those who wish to say "Happy Christmas" over "Happy Holidays" or other more generic greetings when, as we speak, the B.C., Ontario and federal human rights commissions are deciding whether to find Macleans magazine guilty of hatred, contempt and Islamophobia for daring to publish an article critical of political Islam in Europe.

This would be a tremendous affront to free speech in Canada should it be won by the Canadian Islamic Congress.

I think the censorship side of the free speech debate has upped the ante by doing this during the distraction provided by our haranguing over holiday free speech issues and we may be caught with our pants down if we believers in free inquiry do not mobilize soon.

Jim Galloway, Guelph, Ont.: Much of the symbolism related to the contemporary "holiday season" in Canada (mistletoe, evergreen trees, a magic elf who delivers gifts, flying deer, etc.) actually harkens back to pre-Christian (pagan) belief system.

Despite the attempts by Christianity to adopt the winter solstice as a key holy day (along with Easter or spring equinox, and All Saints' Day or Halloween), most people have largely reverted to only celebrating the non-Christian aspects of this occasion.

What are the panelist thoughts on the persistence and resurgence of these ancient beliefs? Why do they seem so deeply ingrained in our consciousness?

B. Green: It's clear that humans are culturally pre-disposed to celebrate the winter solstice. Virtually all religions that originated in the northern hemisphere have co-opted this cultural tradition by inventing a celebratory event in the December/January timeframe.

Why do the fundamentalists/literalists of these religions still feel the need to believe that their solstice event actually took place in this timeframe?

Sheema Khan: With regards to the solstice, there is no reference to it in Islamic traditions. The length of days, the movement of the sun, earth and moon are all regarded as signs of an omnipotent Creator.

As such, there is no significance attached to the solstice per se.

Justin Trottier: Firstly, I do not think there is common knowledge regarding just how saturated Christmas is with pre-Christian pagan elements.

How many people know that Dec. 25 was first the birthdate of the Persian god Mithra in the cult of Mithraism which originated in India in 1400 BC, or that the pine tree was associated with the cult of Osiris of ancient Egypt?

In fact, it can be shown that many elements of Christianity and indeed all surviving religions — not just Christmas and the holidays — originate in or still contain quasi-pagan ideas, such as the Djinn spirits in Islam or the stories of the flood in the Old Testament, which are strikingly similar to far more ancient Babylonian stories.

Christ himself bears striking resemblances to the hero worshipped in many pre-Christian mystery cults — Mithras whose cult included baptism, the symbolic eating of body and blood, 12 disciples, and resurrection after 3 days; Horus who was anointed; Ra who had a virginal birth; Tammuz and Dionysus who died and rose from the grave and Apollonius who brought others back from the dead.

In short, pagan beliefs survive because they form an important crux for our current religions and because they provided familiar ideas during people's transitions from one religion to another.

Many of them, certainly in connection to our major holidays and feast days, are tied to nature and the living Earth, which are very ancient and important symbols indeed.

Jennifer Harris: As a Christian person, I have no trouble understanding that Jesus wasn't born specifically on the 25th of December (the Bible certainly makes no such claim).

Christianity is a historical, as well as a revealed faith. The tradition of celebrating the birth of Christ on Dec. 25 began in the fourth century as a means of continuing the old practices, but with a new meaning. As societies change, so old practices change.

As it stands now, Dec. 25 is better described as a statutory holiday in Canada. It means very little to lots of people.

I would be happy to see the meaning of Christmas left to Christians, and abandoned or replaced by others in society.

In fact, one might say that the orgy of consumerism is precisely that — a new festival using an old date.

While I am opposed to the deletion of religion from public life, the timing of statutory holidays and the greetings in the newspaper are, in my view, not at all about faith.

Lorna Dueck: Hello B.B. and Jim. No, I don't find there is a resurgence of these ancient beliefs. Rather, there's been a great surge of consumer-driven culture that brands and dominates both solstice and holy days into a frenzy of materialism, causing distraction and loss of spiritual truths along the way.

Jennifer Harris: I would also like to add a comment about the essays. I note that most of the essays point out the historical importance of the events commemorated by religious communities at this time of year.

This sense of history as something important that shaped our present-day experience is not exclusive to religious communities but seems in short supply in our culture.

I see little evidence that Canadians view history as something other than past (boring) events that have to be studied (or simply ignored). This notion of history as merely "the past" is a comparatively new concept, arising in the 18th Century.

Would that we could gain from the modern sensibility its respect for human rights, pluralism, and scientific advancements while keeping a sense of ourselves as participating in a larger narrative.

If history is left to historians, then the rest of us are flailing about without a sense of our past, a sense of meaning in the present, or a sense of direction toward our future.

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