It was a perfectly blue sky over San Francisco, where Serena and I brought the kids for some ice skating and hot chocolate in Union Square. Serena had never been there during the Christmas holidays, so has never experienced the slightly irreverent frivolity that is San Francisco in December. While waiting on the cue for skates with Gabriel and all of his 40 + lbs. falling asleep on my shoulders, I caught out of the corner of my eye what seemed like 200 Santas crossing Geary Street into Union Square. With drag queens in red costumes wearing big blonde wigs and motorcycle gangs driving through town on bikes covered in outdoor Christmas lights, the City is kind of like Disneyland, except a little more untamed and without the gate fees. With this knowledge, I was unfazed and simply asked Gabriel if he wanted to say hi to one of them in what seemed to be a funny little stunt.

Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.

One of the Nicks, a lanky college-aged guy with his own blonde beard, was working the crowd near us when he abruptly looked up across the plaza and yelled out, “Out of the way! Here comes Jesus!” There was some commotion, then bursting through small groupings of people came an entourage of secret service elves in dark sunglasses surrounding a tall bearded Jesus in a white robe. He was wearing a crown of holiday lights and birthday candles and blessing people silently as he made his way through the crowd. And just like that, a gimicky little stunt was elevated to guerrilla performance art.

I’m still kicking myself for not having a camera with me (my phone was next-to-dead) to capture the moment. I suppose it could have illustrated anything, or nothing at all — who knows the motives of the people who went to the trouble of organizing this demonstration! — but it reminds me of the terrible silliness of all the offense many of my Christian friends feel this time of year, because Christmas is getting crowded out by alternative holidays or downgraded to a generic, P.C., “holiday season.” “Jesus is the reason for the season,” they will say with sincere conviction. Yes, but is Jesus the reason for our Christmas trees and Dickensian affinities? Charles’ A Christmas Carol is the first crack in a million fractured commercialized dents in the purist’s Christian holiday.

Jesus vs. Santa

If a follower of Jesus wants to go without the decorations and gift exchanges and instead start selling off possessions to give to the poor as a birthday gift to their LORD, that’s a credible argument. But let’s not get offended when cultures not our own want to capitalize on the open market — because the truth is, when the O’Hara’s were in Union Square drinking hot cocoa and ice skating and peering into the display windows at FAO Schwartz, we weren’t celebrating the arrival of King Jesus (at least not directly and explicitly), we were simply having a fun family day. Call it Christmas if you like, but not in angry defense of an orthodox Christian holiday. That would be disingenuous at best, and a bigoted misrepresentation to our neighbors about what it means to worship Jesus at worst.