When my oldest daughter came home for Christmas two months ago, I ranted a bit to her about the questionable "War on Christmas" and wondered why it's too much to ask that people use more inclusive language like "Happy Holidays." Wasn't that kind to people of other religious traditions, to notice that they are not Christian and that they have their own celebrations?
To my surprise, my daughter disagreed. She told me that saying "Happy Holidays" was a stupid way to be inclusive and that I should be moving past "religious tolerance" because it simply wasn't enough. But wasn't religious tolerance the apex of a welcoming community that the United States has represented? Apparently not. My daughter has been leading the way for me to become not only tolerant, but understanding of other religions.
At college, my daughter has joined a group called "Addir," the ancient Sumerian word for "bridge." It is a group that meets weekly and encourages cross-religious understanding. There are Muslims, Catholics, orthodox Jews, atheists, and yes, even Mormons in this group. They sometimes invite guest speakers in, but often just invite each small group to talk about their own religious experiences. This isn't about "religious tolerance," a catch phrase which to my daughter has come to mean blind misunderstanding and excuses, but is about actually coming to understand and love other religions, no matter how different from her own.
One example: my daughter's Addir group was supposed to have a meeting the week after a Jewish high holiday, "Rosh Hashanah." But her orthodox Jewish friend "David" would not respond to the continual emails, calls, and texts from the other members of the group. It seemed he was ignoring them, something they couldn't understand. Sure, it was the middle of Rosh Hashanah, but all they wanted was for him to respond to an email or a text about next week. Why would he not do that? Perhaps, they began to think, he did not want to be part of the group anymore.
My daughter was also in a biology class where a professor announced that if there were any orthodox Jewish students, they would need to start their pset early because he wasn't going to extend the deadline for them. My daughter puzzled over this, trying to understand why celebrating Rosh Hashanah or any other holiday would mean not being able to do homework, since her Christian holidays are not like that. There's no reason that celebrating Christmas would mean not being able to do homework, though you might have to do it while you are waiting for the turkey or pumpkin pie to come out of the oven, or while traveling to a relative's house.
Then again, as my daughter again reminds me, Christian holidays like Christmas and Easter often have built in school breaks, so that it would hardly come up. We might call the breaks "Winter Break" and "Spring Break," but the timing still favors Christian praxis over other religions. Saying "Happy Holidays" as though Christmas and Hanukah happen at the same time means that we forget that they don't, and that the way most of American businesses schedule time off means that most people celebrate Christmas on some level whether they are Christian or not.
After Rosh Hashanah was over, David finally responded to the text messages and emails that he had been sent. This was when my daughter's Addir group began their first real attempt to understand--not just tolerate--another religious outlook. David explained that for an orthodox Jew, a Jewish holiday is a call to return to a spiritual connection with God that includes turning off all electronic devices, not using anything work-like from turning on a light to using the dishwasher. David hadn't been ignoring messages. He had been observing his faith as well as he could.
This sparked a long back and forth series of emails between my daughter and David, about what Christian holidays are like versus orthodox Jewish ones. David also explained that for him, it makes no sense to be told "Happy Holidays" because hanukah isn't really a high holiday anyway, it's just a minor holiday. The real Jewish holiday season is in September, which virtually no Christians know. But if they wanted to say "Happy Holidays" then, it would make a lot more sense.
As my daughter recounted to me her rendition of our traditions of Christmas and Easter to David, I realized how secular and religious traditions have merged together for us--and for many Mormons. I don't think there is anything bad about this--it's just an observation. Mormons do not have a "Midnight Mass" or any equivalent church service on Christmas Eve--unless Christmas Eve falls on Sunday. We often read the Christmas story from Luke the night before or go to a reenactment the week of, but it's very flexible.
Christmas Day itself is about present opening and family time, eating well and relaxing. Easter is mostly a regular church day with some fine music from our ward choir--and chocolate treats in baskets at home. Lent is something Mormons may talk about, but rarely observe as other Christians might.
For Mormons, the season of Christmas is religious, even if they day itself is not. It is a reminder that Christ was born and that He saved us from sin and from death, but Mormons tend not to celebrate the cross and do not use it as a symbol, something that separates us from other Christians and sometimes leads to the accusation that we aren't "really" Christian. Instead, Mormons tend to spend their worship time in the temples, doing saving ordinances for our dead ancestors. We also strive not to think of any of our holidays as particular times for devotion. They are reminders of how we should act all the time.
I think that just as I want other Christians to work toward understanding and accept that Mormon worship is valid, I need to do more work to understand how other religious observance is different and equally valid. There are things for me to learn from the orthodox Jewish practice of strictly doing no work during holidays that I could incorporate into my own praxis. It has made me reconsider what the purpose of life is and what worship is for.
This is just one example, of course. But it made me reconsider my own self-congratulatory attitude about "religious tolerance," a tolerance that had previously ended mostly with "Happy Holidays" to Jewish or Muslim or friends of other religious affiliation. Tolerance is a pretty poor substitute, as it turns out, for real love and understanding.