by Julie A. Kanarr

Every December, my friends and I drive around town looking at Christmas lights. The displays run the gamut from tasteful to tacky. While some people string a few lights around their houses and call it good; others spend days, even weeks, preparing their displays for the season. In some neighborhoods, turning the house and yard into a Christmas display seems to be a competitive sport; each homeowner trying to outdo a neighbor’s dazzle of colored lights. The local newspaper always publishes a map showing where the best can be found, but it isn't necessary. Lighted Christmas displays aren't hidden treasures.

Some displays are stunningly beautiful. They radiate artistry in light and color that warms the winter night. They might include a softly lighted nativity set, a yard transformed into a winter village, or a simple string of white lights outlining the contours of the house, offering a warm and inviting glow. Others glory in gaudiness with large, plastic reindeer pulling a bigger sleigh across the roof or a blinking–light Santa popping in and out of a chimney. What about the giant model train running in manic circles around the front yard with "Here Comes Santa Claus" blaring through tinny speakers or the hundreds of lights flashing on and off in psychedelic patterns? Some displays carry mixed messages: Candy canes surround a manger, Frosty the Snowman hangs out with Mary and Joseph, or Wise Men lead a herd of lighted–wire reindeer.

My annual tour of the Christmas lights always leaves me amazed, delighted, awestruck, and sometimes amused, not only by the aesthetics, but also by the message. I find myself wondering what it means. When someone sets up Santa with the shepherds at the manger, what are they trying to say? Are they suggesting that Santa Claus joins in worshiping the newborn Christ? Has it occurred to them that these symbols might clash? In what way do high–wattage light displays really honor the birth of the One who comes to bring good news to the poor? Is the holiness of the holiday getting lost in the cluttered frenzy of its celebration?

When it comes to this holiday, we find ourselves in the intersection between sacred and secular. In choosing the date to celebrate Christ's birth, the ancient church took over a pre–Christian celebration, transforming an existing winter festival into the celebration of Christ's birth. Sacred and secular events have co–existed for centuries, sometimes harmonizing, sometimes clashing. Some respond by railing against all secular trappings of this holiday, shouting "Whose birthday is it anyway?" in a voice that can sound mean–spirited. Some focus solely on the religious aspects of the holiday, quietly ignoring the rest. Others try to balance the sacred and secular, keeping Christ at the center of their celebrations, while enjoying the fun of secular traditions. Still others find themselves uncomfortably navigating a maze of competing ideas. Sometimes we trip over the trappings of the season, while yearning for a more meaningful celebration.

Christmas calls forth both rich symbolism and shallow kitsch as we try to express the feelings it evokes in us. We celebrate the mystery of the incarnation. With deep reverence we worship God whose human birth leads to our salvation. We are drawn into the harmony of all the faithful, coming to adore Christ the Lord. We yearn for the fulfillment of the angelic promise of peace on earth and goodwill to all. We sing carols of peace and joy, joining our voices with the heavenly choirs of angels who burst into song at the announcement of Christ's birth. We join the magi in giving gifts. We receive gifts from others in the spirit of the gift God has given us in Christ. We decorate with symbols of the season, surrounding ourselves with visible, tangible reminders of the meaning of Christmas. The thoughtful use of these sights, sounds, and practices can move us to a deeper appreciation of the gift of Christ's birth.

Symbols draw us deeper into the mystery that we celebrate. Symbols point to a deeper reality. The meaning of some symbols is transparent; they are universal and familiar. Christians understand the meaning of a crθche or a cross, but they might find other symbols more obscure. For example, many congregations adorn their Christmas trees with chrismons — ornaments symbolizing the teachings of the Christian faith. While clear to most who understand them, chrismons might bewilder others. They can, however, be invitational — arousing curiosity and guiding people toward a deeper understanding of the underlying story. But symbols also can lose their symbolism when their meanings are forgotten, no longer shared with new generations. By identifying and exploring symbols of the faith, we are drawn more deeply into their meanings. By sharing the story that stands at the heart of Christmas, we keep the symbols of this ancient story fresh for our generation.

Kitsch, on the other hand, lacks substance. Stores, catalogs, and home shopping networks are filled with eye–catching examples, sometimes expensive and elaborately made, enticing us to purchase them for decorations and gifts. However, kitsch stands in contrast to symbols that evoke the fullness of truth that "the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth" (John 1:14). It can also distort the Christian message. Angels, for example, are often depicted as sweet and sentimental on Christmas cards and in television specials. In children's Christmas pageants, darling little girls in tinsel wings and halos play the part of angels. But the biblical depiction of angels is one that evokes fear and awe. The shepherds were terrified. The angel's first words to Mary and the shepherds were "Do not be afraid!" (See Luke 1:30, 2:10). These messengers of God can hardly be described as cherubic.

The distinction between kitsch and symbol is not as simple as categorizing holiday decorations and activities into sacred and secular. Some deeply meaningful observances —  rooted in practices of hospitality, charity, or family love — are shared by those who are devoutly religious and those who are not. For some, the sacred and secular collide; for others, they co–exist happily in holiday celebrations. The difference between symbol and kitsch is more than style, aesthetics, or personal taste. What does a kitschy item or Christian symbol or custom mean for you? In what way does it deepen Christmas and invite you more deeply into the mystery of the incarnation? In what way does it cultivate and reflect what you value in this season? Does it evoke a sense of holiness and awe? Does it draw you more deeply into the life of Christ? Or does it just add to the clutter?

Ultimately, kitsch is in the eye of the beholder. What strikes you as tacky might be deeply meaningful for me. The hand–painted nativity scene in garish hues of green, blue, and yellow might evoke precious memories of a beloved grandmother with failing eyesight and fading memory who painted it. The burlap Christmas tree skirt with glued felt cutouts might have helped a pre–schooler learn the Christmas story by heart. Conversely, the magazine-perfect decorations that make a home beautiful and get approving nods from interior decorators might be devoid of any particular meaning.

How can we avoid being overrun by holiday clutter? We can lift up the faith-bearing symbols of the season, and we can engage in honest reflections about our own practices and purchases. It is easier to criticize my neighbor's kitsch than to acknowledge my own. Decide whether the item cheapens or deepens. Is it a trinket or a treasure? When you consider a holiday–themed purchase, ask yourself: "Is this part of a habit of accumulating more stuff? Is this something I will appreciate for years to come or is it disposable? Is this gift likely to become a memento that grows in sentimental value, or is it something that will only add to the recipient's own clutter or be part of the next yard sale? Does this item signify something profound? Or is it just cute?"

The difference between symbolism, sentimentality, and kitsch is in the answer to the question "What does this mean?" With a symbol, there is an answer connected to the story of our faith. We can tell our children and grandchildren: "The star on top of the Christmas tree reminds us of the star that guided the wise men." Decorations that hold sentimental value will evoke a personal memory or family history: "This ornament has been in my family for four generations." If an item is merely an adornment or even kitsch, the answer might be: "It looks nice" or "It was on sale."

A trinket or treasure isn’t defined by cost or appearance, but by meaning. At Christ's birth in Bethlehem, God entered fully into human life. This is the gift that we treasure and celebrate. As we embrace the season, let us share the life–giving story of the God who comes to us in Christ. Let us dip more deeply into the meaning of the symbols that tell that story: star, manger, and other images in the biblical story of Jesus' birth. Apart from that story, the rest is just glitter.

Julie A. Kanarr is one of two pastors at Holy Trinity Lutheran Church in Port Angeles, Wash. A graduate of Pacific Lutheran University (Tacoma) and Luther Seminary (St. Paul), she shares her household with two cats who enjoy playing with Christmas ornaments.