The Many Paths, Part 4 of 4: A Certain Quality

In my brief time in India, I’ve already come to a sincere appreciation for the value that this culture attaches to celebration. Celebration inhabits body, mind, and soul here; it is the animating spirit of the people. Indians are blithely serious about the enjoyment (as opposed strictly to the observance) of their holidays and festivals. Holidays here are legion (perhaps owing to the antiquity of the culture) and lengthy, diverse in their celebration, and this diversity exists both between holidays (Dussehra vs. Dewali) and within their observance (burning effigies of Ravana vs. submerging idols of Durga on Dussehra), according to place and custom. In comparison to this surfeit of celebratory riches, Americans are destitute. The disparity leads me to ponder the possibility of an Indian foreign aid program for merrymaking—-when it comes to celebration, we are the developing world (perhaps the UN’s next World Development Report will feature an Index of Merriment to reflect this overlooked variable in the calculation of quality of life). Technical assistance would come pretty cheaply—-any man on the street here has internalized the relevant lessons from childhood.

Let’s quickly examine the American problem. To wit: our holidays, religious and secular alike, are, taken as a whole, largely deficient in spirit and vitality. They are usually but a day in duration, and, I think, not really celebrated, except perhaps for New Year’s, which, it is worth noting, is a universal occasion, even if its observance varies depending on the calendar. Christmas is a single day (although we have the Christmas “season,” or the “holidays,” which is probably the closest we come to an extended observance), likewise Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Easter. The case of Easter, I think, is particularly instructive. Here we have the culmination of the Lenten season (An entire season! And how is it celebrated? Mass abstention from pleasurable activities!), a day that commemorates the single most important event, the upshot of all of Christianity: Christ rose from the dead! Eternal life is the true and tangible reward of the faithful! Our sins can be forgiven! If there is any day that should cause Christians to become utterly deranged with rejoicing, it is Easter. And yet, if not for the Easter bunny and Easter baskets and Easter egg hunts, it would be nothing but donning one’s best clothes and bustling off to church for ponderous reflection on the meaning of resurrection (or so I’m told—-I’ve never actually been to church on Easter. My family knows how to celebrate: massive chocolate intake). In other words, we had to invent a giant candy-dispensing leporid to make bearable the most momentous of Christian holidays.

Christmas is much the same. Christ is born! But where’s the outpouring of exaltation? Oh, there’s rejoicing on Christmas to be sure, but it’s too much “Silent Night” and not enough “Joy to the World.” We rely upon Santa Claus, flying reindeer, eggnog, external illumination, and the bejeweled Christmas tree (I love the whimsy of this tradition, the strangeness—-Indians would heartily approve, I think) to instill the occasion with a sense of wonder, mystery, and awe. This isn’t some “Remember the reason for the season” rant; the reason isn’t as important to me as the spirit, for it’s the spirit of the season that has been lost. It seems today Christians of the Western world value solemnity and contemplation above joy and merriment and look to the secular world to recapture that spirit of celebration that once accompanied the observance of their holidays—-without first attempting to reignite the smoldering fires of enthusiasm within the faith. I can’t help feeling that this is unfortunate, if only for the fact that, at its essence, few things in the world are better at inspiring feelings of ecstasy and zeal and exuberance than religion (ignoring, for the moment, other things it may inspire, or to what ends these feelings may be put), and these feelings make for stupendous celebrations--just ask the Indians. And one need not be Christian, or Hindu, or Jew, or Muslim to benefit from the spirit of celebration—-it’s an infectious disease that everyone is welcome to catch.

The point is not that Christians are a joyless lot, or that American holidays are dreary, lifeless events--truth be told, I genuinely enjoy them. Perhaps my favorite thing in the world is to celebrate Christmas with my family, and despite its curious, church-driven tendency towards solemnity and temperance in observance, Christmas is sacrosanct to me--I wouldn't see it changed in any fundamental way. But the celebration of most of our holidays lacks a certain quality, a rapture, or zeal, or passion--however it is named--that resides at the very center of Indian celebrations. It is this quality that inspires singing and dancing into the small hours, that demands fireworks be ignited for every occasion, that sustains a festive spirit for nights on end. Americans go shopping the day after Thanksgiving and back to work the day after Easter. We'd rather experience the tumult of New Year's Eve in Time's Square on our couches than create or join mass festivities in our own communities. We understand sacrifice as the point of Lent, and believe Advent to be for candles and calendars. We have forgotten Annunciation, Ascension, Pentecost, and any number of other minor Christian holidays. We haven't embraced the traditions of our minority communities, like Cinco de Mayo, Eid al-Fitr, or Chinese New Year. In short, we rarely celebrate deeply, passionately, or purely, and we simply don't celebrate enough. How truly unfortunate...