Sadly, the Revised Common Lectionary doesn’t assign a scripture reading to the high holy day of Festivus. If it did, I imagine it would be one in which Jesus called his audience a “brood of vipers” (Matthew 12:34) or the prophet Hosea referred to God’s people as “children of whoredom” (Hosea 1:2).
Of course, Frank Costanza, the Seinfeld character who introduced Festivus to the world, wouldn’t have kind things to say about anyone speculating on what Bible verses would best accompany the December 23 celebration. He did, after all, devise the holiday because he hated all the commercial and religious aspects of Christmas. Still, I suspect the man who opened the “airing of grievances” with, “I’ve got a lot of problems with you people!” would appreciate just how frank (pun unintended) and dark the Bible can be.
Frank described the genesis of Festivus like this: “Many Christmases ago, I went to buy a doll for my son. I reach for the last one they had, but so did another man. As I rained blows upon him, I realized, there had to be another way.”
Festivus celebrations include feats of strength and the aforementioned “airing of grievances,” where you gather your family together around the table and tell them all the ways they have disappointed you over the years.
Although it serves no functional purpose, there is also an unadorned metal pole involved.
The Invention of Christmas as We Know It
It may come as a surprise that the sentimentality and warmth many of us feel entitled to at Christmas are relatively new expectations. Some have suggested that this modern “Christmas feeling” didn’t emerge until Dickens penned A Christmas Carol in 1843.
Prior to the mid-19th century, Christmas didn’t enjoy the widespread cultural attention we have become accustomed to. It functioned primarily as a church observance rather than a widely practiced civic or cultural celebration. Even on the liturgical calendar, Christmas took a back seat to Easter in terms of theological and emotional weight.
After the Reformation, Christmas was often placed even lower on the list of priorities for Protestants, who were skeptical of holidays that lacked an explicit scriptural basis.
But in A Christmas Carol, Dickens, an Anglican who was deeply critical of legalistic religion, connected the broad Christian themes of community and generosity with the specifics of the Christmas story. He put children at the forefront of the narrative. And he did so at a time when capitalist greed and industrial production took precedence over kindness, rest and love.
It was a story of incarnation prompting transformation.
Darkness and Light
In creating Festivus, Frank Costanza may have been fleeing the celebrations of Christmas and Hanukkah (he was, after all, Jewish). But he may have unintentionally tapped into a theme that underlies our winter holidays: that light is most evident when set against the backdrop of darkness.
Naming our disappointments and owning our angst doesn’t diminish the light. It amplifies it.
Although Frank Constanza is a Scrooge, Festivus isn’t a redemption story in the way A Christmas Carol is. But both resist our shallow insistence on pretending that everything is fine at Christmastime. They instead name the darkness and face it head-on.
Much like a baby born in Bethlehem, the light of all humankind. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5).
Happy Festivus.
Merry Christmas.
Face the darkness.
Carry the Light.