As someone who’s three and a half months shy of turning sixty, I don’t believe the same things I believed when I was a twelve-year-old altar boy at St. Rose’s. I don’t claim any moral or intellectual superiority because of it. It’s just that what I believe now isn’t the same as what I believed then. It’s not evolution; it’s just change. (Or maybe it is evolution. I haven’t really decided and don’t necessarily think it’s a categorization I want to make.)

Thank goodness (or Whoever) I can still celebrate Christmas with a clear conscience. I appreciate the religious training I had as a child, and I’m grateful for the holiday, even though it’s a little different for me now than it was then. I can still sing (if I could sing, that is) the traditional carols, with a total lack of irony. In fact, I enjoy Christmas music even more now, because I can throw my whole artistic soul into songs about Jesus or Santa, as much as I enjoy singing “O Canada” or “Okie from Muskogee,” even though I’m neither a Canadian nor an Okie.

So I celebrate the secular side of Christmas without feeling like a hypocrite, and I honor those who observe the religious side with an open heart. There are things about organized religion in general (and some branches of it in particular) that I don’t like, but I would never turn away from a holiday that has become a tribute to love and family and sharing. If it weren’t so hard to live up to, every day would be like that.