November 8 and I'm already tired of the War on Christmas. No, not the people who are upset by Starbucks cups and Happy Holidays. The people who are upset with those people and compelled to post about it. I'm declaring war on the war on the War on Christmas.
My tongue was firmly in cheek (that last sentence! Come on!), but still, there have been a number of of blogs and FB posts, reposted and shared widely, decrying the outrage over Starbucks's red cups and companies that say "Happy Holidays." For the record, I agree with my colleagues that cries of persecution are juvenile and beside the point of Christianity. Most of them are clever, thoughtful and well written.
The problem is--and granted I am in a lefty Christian bubble too much--the reaction to the so-called War on Christmas seems way outsized to the controversy itself. Thus far the "War" seems to amount to a handful of articles, most of which mention the same 3-4 Christian leaders or groups, then sprinkle in quotes from various cranks with Twitter accounts.
I don't doubt there are people who are offended by what they see as the secularization of the Christmas season. What I question is my tribe's tendency to go straight to smackdown. Especially since this happens like clockwork every year. Must we do this?
I include myself in this question. Yeah, I didn't jump on this particular bandwagon, but I've jumped on plenty in my day, and I have the limp and the hearing loss to prove it.
The critiques of the War on Christmas (what I called the war on the War on Christmas) legitimize a perspective that frankly doesn't deserve legitimacy. (Telling your barista your name is Merry Christmas to force them to say those words? Really?!?) But more important, it amounts to building a bike shed. Which is what this post is really about.
Back in the 1950s, C. Northcote Parkinson identified the bike-shed problem, which has come to be known as Parkinson's Law of Triviality. In a nutshell:
A management committee decides to approve a nuclear power plant, which it does with little argument or deliberation. Then comes the decision on the color of the bike shed at the plant, during which the management gets into a nit-picking debate and expends far more time and energy than on the nuclear power plant decision.
Or put another way, the amount of discussion is inversely proportional to the complexity of the topic.
Anyone who's ever served on a church council will recognize this, though it goes way beyond the church. This is the discussion about the color of the carpet in the parlor instead of why the church is dying, or the color of the corporate logo instead of the toxic office culture.
Red cups are easy. #Blacklivesmatter is complex. Westboro Church is easy. Syria is complex. We don't always have to tackle complex issues on social media. But nor should we be seduced by stuff that really, really doesn't matter. Again, I am writing to myself as much as anyone else. Please hold me to this.
Hopefully by now the red cup kerfuffle is waning. But other potential "battles" will come--it's only November 10. I'd personally like to see us not jump into critiques of the War on Christmas. Not because there's nothing to critique--there is. But because it's too easy. I also suspect there are powers out there that benefit from our outrage and our division. If nothing else, this has been free publicity for Starbucks, whose coffee and red cups I enjoy--but it's a multinational corporation that frankly doesn't need our signal boost.
Image courtesy of my friend Meredith Kemp-Pappan.