Christmas is actually super queer and the heteronormative world of enforced categories doesn’t want to hear about it. It is, perhaps, the ultimate example of shattering definitions. God entering into the world as a refugee on the run from a mad tyrant, who would grow up into a person who openly defied the imperial way of life to such an extent that He would be given the death penalty, is absolutely queer punk rock. We cannot allow the consumerist straight fascists to convince us that Christmas is about buying things and maintaining the status quo. The queer magic of Christmas needs to be pushed to the forefront of Christmas theology. It cannot be lost amidst the consumerist and nationalist noise.
In the beginning you may have woken up early on Christmas morning, rushed to the living room, and gasped in awed wonder at the colorful Christmas tree with a beautiful array of presents nestled underneath. Maybe your family prepared a myriad of holiday foods that you just sort of ate throughout the day until the big Christmas dinner. Your young heart danced in the wonder of a season where the entire world seemed to halt and transform before your eyes. Suddenly all of the trees lining the streets were filled with thousands of twinkling lights. The radio would be filled with songs talking about snow (despite the 80 degree weather), Santa Claus, and some theology that your mind couldn’t begin to comprehend at your age. You didn’t even have to go to school anymore! For a hefty chunk of a month, you were released from the confines of your schoolwork and participated with the rest of the community in holiday splendor. The world completely changed.
And then you grew up and the magic was snuffed out. Reality invaded the fairy ring that we had grown around our little world and suddenly Christmas became…whatever it is.
Christmas is complicated. From its historical context, to its theology, to commercialism, to culture wars, to global politics, to national politics, to dinner table politics, Christmas is drenched in difficulty. This is probably due to the fact that it forces relationships to reconnect when we are so used to living our isolated lives detached from our families. And I don’t mean that negatively. We are supposed to live our own lives. We grow up and become our own selves. We live our narratives and Christmas brings these disparate stories back together. But this brings challenges.
There are a variety of illusions that can be cast across this holy day. We sing about snow and sleigh bells jingling when it might be bright, sunny, and warm. A celebration of the birth of a homeless refugee who preached that the wealthy should sell everything that they had and give it to the poor becomes a consumerist hellscape. Christian Nationalists try to gaslight the entire nation into believing that everyone is actually Christian and the existence of other ways of life and other holy days are unAmerican. Your MAGA family members might pretend that everyone around the dinner table is a fascist too.
But actual Christians, as opposed to Christian Nationalists, are celebrating the birth of a homeless refugee. The Holy Family fled to Egypt to escape the murderous insecure ego of a mad tyrant who was hellbent on annihilating anyone who threatened his rule. King Herod was not even a king. He was one of the tetrarchs over Jerusalem, a vassal lord placed there by Caesar to secure Rome’s power over the state. And the reality that his lineage was not truly royal rankled Herod “the Great” to such a degree that he was willing to kill every Jewish baby in the area in which Jesus was believed to be born in order to eliminate anyone who could claim the title of “King of the Jews.” And Herod’s son, Herod Agrippa, would continue this legacy by eventually attempting an insurrection against Rome which would promptly lead to his exile. Not to mention that Herod was informed of Jesus’ birth by a cadre of pagan astrologers who became the first witnesses of the Incarnation outside of the Holy Family itself.
Christmas has always been political – just not in the ways that we may have been taught. Carols like “O Holy Night” are anthems to hope for the downfall of oppressive systems and release of the captives. The birth of Christ heralds the creation of an alternative community that exists within the Empire – a neighborhood of love that defies the fascist desire to dominate others into conformity.
Christmas has always been magical. It is preceded by the season of Advent, in which the days become darker and we are swept up in a pattern of eager anticipation for the inbreaking of our Source into creation. We are led deep into the dark woods, where mystery hides in the shadows between the trees. We feel the cold chill on our cheeks that are kisses of the Queer Divine who is always with us, no matter what the heteronormative world wants us to think.
So my prayer to you is that you receive at least some degree of comfort and peace this Christmas. Know that you are not alone if you feel like you are. Know that Christ is with the hurting and the lonely. Know that God is queer and Her Image is emblazed onto every creature in Her magically diverse cosmos. If the cosmos is composed of a myriad of boundary-defying beings, and queerness is the shattering of categories, then how much more queer must our God be? What is more queer than the inbreaking of the Creator into Her creation, shattering what is perhaps the ultimate boundary? Christmas is deeply queer punk rock. Know that our queer God is with you always. Merry Christmas!