Once upon a time, sodomy was euphemized as “the love that dare not speak its name.”
Now Christmas is the “holiday” that dare not speak its name.
We’ve just been to the Stop & Shop, where we bought beaucoup groceries for the Christmas weekend. The weather’s supposed to be horrible and we don’t want to go out.
The P.A. system was on, like it always is, and pumping dreadful music at us, as it always does. It’s Christmas-time, so the store management’s vision of Christmas is to play lots and lots of songs about some nameless “holiday” that no one must ever mention. Much of the music features screaming. After about 15 minutes of it, I’m ready to join in.
Where is it written that we must be “inclusive”? Do I get bent out of shape because Hindus celebrate their holidays? Gee, wouldn’t that make me a Biggit, if I did?
Boy howdy… If they could just change Christmas into “Obama Day” or something… You can bet they’ll hail that holiday by name.
Yes, I know what you mean. But two good things I saw this morning on Spokane news: One was a group of people saying how bummed out they had been for all their lives, then, a new series of the same people saying their Emmanuel encounters had changed all that and brought them peace, joy and a great outlook. Then, later, a local company showed pictures on their ad site of the manger scene and words of encouragement, and good wishes for the true meaning of Christmas. I was blown away to see these instead of blasphemous junk.
We need some of that around here!
In president biden’s Christmas address he talked of the child but never mentioned Jesus name.
He probably forgot it. “You know–the thing!”
Hope your Christmas went well!