An Enigmatic Intersection of Parallel Worlds

I got this at Goodwill for $2.50. Half price. I still would have bought it at $5. Or more. The statue is by Rudolph Vargas and produced in 1992, but the design goes back to 1976.[1] It's both troubling and enigmatic (if not a little mesmerizing[2]).

Troubling because it merges sacred and secular universes that many Christians live in but never allow to intersect, and enigmatic because it does it so well, despite the epic mythos of both.

When images like this are associated with uncritical mass appeal, the result might be considered tacky (a la chintz pillows, Elvis paintings on velvet, pink lawn flamingos, etc).

Tacky or not, this little statue has the same power over me as Piss Christ➚; and also an exhibit at Calvin College while I was a student there that displayed dead cockroaches in various contexts, including a crucifixion; it has this power because it portrays such a potentially devout perspective in an unexpected way.[3]


It is primally beguiling.

[1]
Vargas died in 1986.➚ "'His purpose in life was to glorify God and his images,' said the son, an electronics engineer from Alhambra."

I'm glad I bought this, and for more reasons than the compelling attraction of the subject. I'm glad because I learned about a bald little immigrant who's biblical passion found expression in such beautiful and simple ways.

After considerable searching and clicking and reading (eventually "Rudolph Vargas sculpture", page 3, search result #29), I finally learned that the kneeling Santa I have was commissioned by Raymond P. Gauer in 1976 (hence "R P Gauer" on the base).

… the book, "A Special Place for Santa," states that the founder, Raymond P. Gauer, commissioned the first kneeling Santa in 1976, which combined the two major symbols of Christmas - the Christ child and Santa Claus in a way that connotes their proper relationship - the secular subservient to the sacred… (Williamsport Sun-Gazette➚)

As for Mr Gauer, he owns the trademark for kneeling Santa➚. He was a lawyer or judge or something, as he's also associated with a petition against the now classic porn film, The Devil in Miss Jones.➚

Here's another thing: It took me perhaps an hour or more to hunt down the Mr Vargas and the Mr Gauer named on the bottom of the statue. I immediately of course found many items for sale just like mine and lots of references to Santa and Jesus associated with these two men, but even after quite a bit of searching and reading, I still know very little about either.

So much searching on two relatively prominent personalities, yet they remain strangers to me. How much worse will it go for us one day, the anonymous rabble? (I hold out some hope for myself. More on that another time.)

There is another Rudolph Vargas, alive and working, who did nativity scenes in Ontario last year, but I can't tell from my Googling if they are related. (Southern California Public Radio➚)

[2]
"Mesmerizing" is a delightful example of a word that went from serviceable to cliché to detestable to forgotten (which is also serviceable). If you were around in the 70's, "mesmerizing" showed up frequently in the company of swooning women in pulpy bodice-rippers. I still have a book somewhere given to me by a college friend, Love Island, a slim, disposable romance written when The Love Boat and Fantasy Island were ratings leaders on Saturday night TV. I don't know if the word "mesmerize" is in it, but it's an interesting little memory. Thank you Dave from Canada.

[3]
"Potentially" because all human expression is subject to interpretation. Even the artist's own interpretation has no more validity than our own. You may or may not find Santa and Jesus or Piss Christ troubling; in fact, you almost certainly don't if you have no Judeo-Christian background, just as I have no response one way or the other to a physical representation of Allah (aside from indignation that others should get so uptight about it). Two people can look at the very same thing and respond entirely differently and legitimately.

 

What does it mean to keep Christmas?

Something occurred to me only this holiday week.

I, like many others, more eagerly anticipate Christmas each year, and each year more deeply mourn its passing. Our holiday hopes are increasingly greater, which only means they are dashed from a greater height.

Have you ever read and reread something, over and over, knowing there is some little truth in there, some kernel of insight, but you just can't get at it?
I've felt that way for years about Dickens' final words on Scrooge:

...and it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge.

What does it mean to keep Christmas? I've come to the conclusion it has very little to do with the preparation and celebration of the season. It's how you observe it afterwards; that is the hard part, and Dickens' tone suggests as much.

The impetus for this conclusion was my son coming to visit this weekend, a week after Christmas, and me of course leaving the tree up and the stockings hung, and asking myself, "Why must Christmas end just because a day on the calendar has past?"

It shouldn't. Most familiar morality tales of Christmas recount permanent changes to characters bereft of love and kindness (as agents or objects): Scrooge learns how to keep Christmas, the Grinch's heart grows three sizes, misfit toys go to live with loving children, etc.

Even so, there is one night out of all the rest that I like to stay up late, alone, the most peaceful night of the year, Christmas Eve, the one night when the world stops, even if only for a few hours, and collectively looks inward for that love and kindness.

Keeping Christmas is the ability to observe its spirit even after the world stops celebrating, when you feel like the party is over and everyone's gone home.

It sounds elementary, and perhaps it is. Perhaps that is why children understand it so well, and why it took me so many years to rediscover what I've known all along.

As it turns out, family events are postponing a formal end to Christmas another week. There remains a stocking stuffed with goodies hanging from the mantle, and the tree still sparkles through the night, a few unwrapped presents underneath lending a legitimacy that otherwise might slowly evaporate after New Year passes. I obtained some old TV shows I'd planned to watch but will wait - odds and ends from the 70s that only those who lived them would find interesting: Donny and Marie, Rich Little, and a little Jimmy Stewart story that's nothing like It's a Wonderful Life and apparently never caught on. I've seen none of them since they first aired.

Now I know why Netflix is so vilified by some customers

On Christmas day, I received an email from Netflix, addressed to "Paul," welcoming me as a new customer. Realizing that this was probably a gift to Paul and someone fat-fingered the address, I went to Netflix's website to find an email contact address.

No luck. They don't want email. They want me to call.

I didn't want to call, but I felt sorry for Paul, so I sent a note off to every address I could think of that might work, including their PR department (admin@, help@, etc).

Bounce bounce bounce.

Ohhhhh-kay. I knew there HAD be one or two valid addresses in circulation, so I snooped around and sure enough, lots of people complaining about the same thing and offering some valid addresses, including the president's. You'll notice I found a handful of others also. Well, I didn't REALLY want to bug this important man on Christmas day, but just on the off-chance he was checking his smartphone after opening presents... I mean,  it couldn't hurt, could it?

Well, someone DID get my email and did respond, but instead of thanking me, they pretended Mr. Netflix actually gets into this inbox and rest assured I wouldn't be troubled with any more email from them.

What did I expect? Oh, I don't know. How about a real person thanking me for taking an hour out of my (Christmas) day to track down company contact info that they decided not to post so I could help them keep a customer happy.

I hope Paul is happy. I think I spent more time helping him than anyone else.

Merry Christmas, Paul

A Modest Proposal[1]

Move Christmas.

I mean Christmas. Not Kwanzaa or Hanukkah or any other Holidays (etymologically "holy days") that happen to fall around the same time and become diluted alternatives (which deserve their own focus apart from Jesus).

I had a Sunday School teacher, Mr Parenti (a large, good man who loved Jesus) who said you know where Jesus is truly celebrated by how hard the Devil works to subvert it. Easter and Christmas are top examples of where Jesus is under assault. (Mr Parenti was putting a slight twist on an old bit of conventional wisdom - you know what someone truly stands for by who their enemies are.)

Thanksgiving is a notable exception, Mr Parenti said. He said that there is no Easter Bunny or Santa for Thanksgiving "because Jesus isn't in it." I agree, to a point.

Christians do observe Thanksgiving in a way the world does not. If you are in a Christian home for Thanksgiving, it's different from the world, and you know it. However, Thanksgiving is still fairly ignored by Madison Avenue, because there's little money to be made apart from food sales, and retailers are concerned about holiday spending, which begins the next day (or more commonly now, on Thanksgiving Day itself).

So I say: Since we don't know when Jesus was born, move the Christian Christmas to Thanksgiving, call it Christgiving - has a ring to it, don't you think? - and celebrate both on the same day. Let the world rush where it will.

How long will that give us? I figure another 2,000 years, give or take, before we have to move it again.

Unfortunately, we are living in a progressively diluted world, and every successive generation dilutes it further, not realizing they are living in a diluted solution already; and this will go on until the observance has only a vestigial resemblance to the original and there remain a few molecules of Jesus floating around in a solution of glitter and lights and apathetic renditions of seasonal sounds like so much Christmas morning vomit from the previous night's merry-making.

[1]
With apologies to Jonathan Swift.

Why did two Christmas Day tragedies get different coverage?

Why is the story of the burning of 5 family members in a million-dollar home on Christmas Day getting more press than the murder-suicide of 7 family members in a middle-class neighborhood apartment on Christmas Day?

Story 1
http://www.nypost.com/p/news/local/conn_house_where_died_in_fire_is_9L1w0pmo2b5XztIYVOWWQI ➚
Story 2
http://www.ajc.com/news/nation-world/texas-police-man-in-1274499.html ➚

In the first, the home is owned by a fashion marketing executive, and one of the victims played Santa at Saks Fifth Avenue. The story is tragic, and I am very sorry for them. The second has a Santa too, but he was the killer, and the family was anonymous. This story is tragic too, and I also feel sorry for them.

I'm not suggesting one merits more or less attention than the other (you know me better than that); I'm wondering why the press gave the first so much coverage, when, aside from the Nigerian church bombings, these two events stand out as singularly tragic on Christmas day, and both involve children and Santas in key roles.

Quite a few news outlets apparently decided you and I are more interested in the first, would watch it closer and respond better to the ads that would accompany it.

That is tragic as well.