Taking the X out of Christmas

Recently I wrote "Xmas" instead of "Christmas" in a Twitter and Facebook post and didn't think much about it at the time. However, I got a couple of responses expressing some disappointment in my sacrilegious language--taking "Christ" out of "Christmas."

For those who have had the same concern, you might find this article, by R.C. Sproul, interesting:

The simple answer to your question is that the X in Christmas is used like the R in R.C. My given name at birth was Robert Charles, although before I was even taken home from the hospital my parents called me by my initials, R.C., and nobody seems to be too scandalized by that.

X can mean so many things. For example, when we want to denote an unknown quantity, we use the symbol X. It can refer to an obscene level of films, something that is X-rated. People seem to express chagrin about seeing Christ's name dropped and replaced by this symbol for an unknown quantity X. Every year you see the signs and the bumper stickers saying, "Put Christ back into Christmas" as a response to this substitution of the letter X for the name of Christ.

First of all, you have to understand that it is not the letter X that is put into Christmas. We see the English letter X there, but actually what it involves is the first letter of the Greek name for Christ. Christos is the New Testament Greek for Christ. The first letter of the Greek word Christos is transliterated into our alphabet as an X. That X has come through church history to be a shorthand symbol for the name of Christ.

We don't see people protesting the use of the Greek letter theta, which is an O with a line across the middle. We use that as a shorthand abbreviation for God because it is the first letter of the word Theos, the Greek word for God.

The idea of X as an abbreviation for the name of Christ came into use in our culture with no intent to show any disrespect for Jesus. The church has used the symbol of the fish historically because it is an acronym. Fish in Greek (ichthus) involved the use of the first letters for the Greek phrase "Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior." So the early Christians would take the first letter of those words and put those letters together to spell the Greek word for fish. That's how the symbol of the fish became the universal symbol of Christendom. There's a long and sacred history of the use of X to symbolize the name of Christ, and from its origin, it has meant no disrespect.

Taken from Now, That's a Good Question!
©1996 by R.C. Sproul. Used by permission of Tyndale on the blog of Ligonier Ministries.

X-Files - The Christmas Episode

Mulder: We're too late: it's already been here.

Scully: Mulder, I hope you know what you are doing.

Mulder: Look, Scully, just like the other homes: Douglas fir, truncated, mounted, transformed into some sort of shrine; halls decked with boughs of holly; stockings hung by the chimney, obviously with care.

Scully: You really think someone's been here?

Mulder: Someone -- or some thing.

Scully: Mulder, over here! It's... fruitcake!

Mulder: Don't touch it! Those things can be lethal.

Scully: It's OK. There's a note attached: "Gonna find out who's naughty and nice."

Mulder: It's judging them, Scully. It's making a list.

Scully: Who? What are you talking about?

Mulder: Ancient mythology tells of an obese humanoid entity who could travel at great speed in a craft powered by antlered servants. Once each year, near the winter solstice, this creature is said to descend from the heavens to reward its followers and punish its disbelievers with jagged chunks of anthracite.

Scully: But that's legend, Mulder -- a story told by parents to frighten children. Surely, you don't believe it?

Mulder: Something was here tonight, Scully. Check out the bite marks on this gingerbread man. Whatever tore through this plate of cookies was massive -- and in a hurry.

Scully: It left crumbs everywhere. And look, Mulder, this milk glass has been completely drained.

Mulder: It gorged itself, Scully. It fed without remorse.

Scully: But why would they leave it milk and cookies?

Mulder: Appeasement. Tonight is the Eve, and nothing can stop its wilding.

Scully: But if this thing does exist, how did it get in? The doors and windows were locked. There's no sign of forced entry.

Mulder: Unless I miss my guess, it came through the fireplace.

Scully: Wait a minute, Mulder. If you are saying some huge creature landed on the roof and came down the chimney? You're crazy! The flue is barely six inches wide. Nothing could get through there.

Mulder: But what if it could alter its shape, move in all directions?

Scully: You mean, like a bowl full of jelly?

Mulder: Exactly. Scully, I've never told anyone this, but when I was a child my home was visited. I saw the creature. It had long white strips of fur surrounding its ruddy, misshapen head. Its bloated torso was red and white. I'll never forget the horror. I turned away, and when I looked back it had somehow taken on the facial features of my father.

Scully: Impossible.

Mulder: I know what I saw! And that night it read my mind. It brought me a Mr. Potato Head, Scully. It knew I wanted a Mr. Potato Head!

Scully: I'm sorry, Mulder, but you're asking me to disregard the laws of physics. You want me to believe in some supernatural being who soars across the skies and brings gifts to good little girls and boys. Listen to what you are saying. Do you understand the repercussions? If this gets out, they'll close the X-Files.

Mulder: Scully, listen to me: It knows when you are sleeping. It knows when you're awake.

Scully: But we have no proof.

Mulder: Last year, on this exact date, SETI radio telescopes detected bogeys in the airspace over 27 states. The White House ordered a Condition Red.

Scully: But that was a meteor shower!

Mulder: Officially, maybe. Two days ago, eight prized Scandinavian reindeer vanished from the National Zoo in Washington, D.C. Nobody -- not even the zookeeper -- was told about it. The government doesn't want people to know about Project Kringle. They fear that if this thing is proved to exist, then the public would stop spending half its annual income in a holiday shopping frenzy. Retail markets will collapse. Scully, they cannot let the world believe this creature lives. There's too much at stake. They'll do whatever it takes to insure another silent night.

Scully: Mulder, I ---

Scully: On the roof! It sounded like... a clatter.

Mulder: The truth is up there. Let's see what's the matter....

MIssed Opportunity

On Saturday, November 28, we went to Wapato Park in Tacoma to take some photos for Philip and Stephanie and Jesse. Took lots of photos of the whole family. While we were there Jesse was swinging on the swings and Jude was playing on the slides, both carefully watched over by their fathers. There was a family consisting of a young black man, a young white girl, and two kids, a boy and a girl. Both kids looked to be mixed race, so maybe this was the mother and father, maybe even married to each other.

Before I noticed them, the boy must have done something that angered the young man, because he cursed the boy, grabbed him and carried him to the lake edge and held him up as if to throw him into the water. He was very angry and cursing loudly. I immediately thought of shooting some pictures of him and the little boy with my telephoto lens. I thought about potential photographic evidence if he hurt the boy badly. When he saw people were noticing he put the boy down and went and stood by the swings as the little girl swung. He looked to be seething with anger and frustration. As the young woman walked past me she looked at me briefly and then dropped her eyes as if embarrassed and helpless. She stood beside the angry man and linked her arm in his as if to try and calm him.

The boy played on the slide fixture and was obviously distressed. He made a repeated sound kind of like a gasp or groan. The man stood by the swings looking hard and angry. I thought of going to him and speaking. I thought of possible scenarios of what I could do or say, how it might go wrong. I thought of a whole series of excuses for my inaction. I won’t list them here because I can think of them again whenever I need them. Uncertainty, inconvenience, excuses. I did nothing. I feel regretful about this.

There is so much pain in the world. I’m living in a Garage Door opener world. When I am confronted with the painful reality of life I’m slow to respond.

It bothers me that I didn’t get involved with the angry young man and his frightened, hurting family. Missed opportunity. I wonder if the angry young man beat his wife and the boy later that night. I’m sorry.

There’s a time when this would have haunted me and driven me into depression and self-recrimination. Something’s changed. I really believe that God loves me and he hasn’t put me on the blacklist for missing the opportunity. I feel bad about it, but still confident in God’s love for me and for the man in the park. And I want to do better next time.

Old Dog

On the day after Thanksgiving in the late afternoon I was standing on the porch of Philip and Stephanie’s house in Tacoma and I saw an old dog walking along the sidewalk from my right to left. He was black and white, long haired, some kind of shepherd breed, with a grey muzzle. He walked slowly with a little limp in his left hind leg. I felt bad for him as he was obviously out of bounds and maybe lost.

As he went two or three houses down, he approached a house where lives a very aggressive dog, part pit bull, which came barking and lunging at the fence as the old dog approached. The old dog just stopped, turned around, and started slowly back along the sidewalk toward me. I just went inside. I keep wondering if he found his way home. I can’t shake the feeling of sadness.

Wonder how many people I encounter are going through life walking slowly along with a little limp? Wonder how many times the pit bull of opposition or hard circumstance stops them in their tracks and they just turn around and slowly walk back the way they came? I wonder if they find their way home…

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. Plato