I was on my way to the beach, about to go fishing barefoot on the edge of the Atlantic. Nothing, I thought, could ruffle me
I was wrong. There is a DJ named Bill Rogers who leads a chorus of confused "Christian" callers. It's nearing Christmas. It's time for the annual rant of intolerance against those godless schools who dare keep Christ out of school in this great Christian nation of ours, threatening the very existence of true believers.
Heck, though I've been accused of being Christian, a few things need straightening out:
The Christ was not born in the winter.
The wise men were not at the manger. Air Iraq did not exist yet--traveling then took time,.
The current version of Christianity is not in danger of extinction. It has the strength of the United States military behind it. Just ask Mr. Bush.
The Christ did not tell Constantine to put the cross on the shields of his soldiers before his battle against Maxentius. Constantine may have believed this, but it is our shame that we accept a myth utterly contrary to His words.
We move with energy from the sun, our mass built from the breath of the life before us. Carbon dioxide and water and sunlight play with a few strands of DNA. We are special, but no more special than the yeast that taught Jesus how to make wine.
Christian privilege is real. Try greeting a TSA agent with "Assalaamu Alaikum".
These are the shortest days of the year in this neck of the woods. Life needs sunlight, and the light is dying. The longest night of the year looms.
The sun will return. Some folks got together a long, long time ago to celebrate when this happens. Some still do.
'Tis the season!
The painting is Raphael'sThe Battle of the Milvian Bridge--or at least designedby him; Giulio Romano gets credit for the actual painting. The woodcut is found at various sites--not sure where the original is from.