The Christmas spirit: blessed not stressed

Ebony, Dec, 1996 by Laura B. Randolph

THERE'S something we've got to talk about. Today. Right now. Before the holiday hustle kicks into overdrive. It's the envy/resentment/jealousy thing. Not until a few years ago did I realize how much the holidays, with their emphasis on what we buy and bring instead of what we believe and beatify, can rouse the green-eyed monster in all of us. I was attending an annual Christmas luncheon when one Sister at the table made a startling confession. Since the day after Thanksgiving, she had been avoiding a close friend's calls. This woman and her friend hadn't argued over anything substantial. They hadn't even had any minor cross words. This Sister wasn't taking her friend's calls, she confessed, because she was sure her friend would invite her to do something-- lunch, shopping, trimming the tree--and she just couldn't bring herself to spend time with her during the holidays. The reason? Her friend could afford all the things she couldn't and, though she hated to admit it, it filled her with jealousy.

At first I was stunned. How, I wondered, could this bright, successful, genuinely nice young woman be so jealous of a Sister-friend that, from Thanksgiving until the new year; she couldn't even bring herself to take her calls? Over coffee and dessert, I chalked the whole thing up to a serious case of misplaced values. And then the more I thought about it the more I realized it was something more. At this time of year you can't even walk down the street, turn on the television or buy a quart of eggnog without being bombarded by commercial messages that, at their core, all drive home the same point: "You are what you have."

It is not the sort of message that makes us feel good about ourselves, even if we are reasonably grounded in reality the other 11 months of the year. Especially those of us who spend the lion's share of our paycheck on necessities, not niceties; basics, not baubles. It is, however, the sort of message that, if we believe and internalize, can breed a nasty case of schadenfreude, jealousy's little known but equally pervasive German first cousin.

While we may not know what it's called, let alone how to pronounce it (shad-n-froid-uh), it's a pretty good bet we all know the feeling. It's the feeling a lot of plus-size women had when Oprah gained the weight back. It's the feeling you have when your "ex" gets dumped by the woman he dumped you for. It's the feeling the Cleveland Indians had when Atlanta Braves star David Justice dislocated his shoulder. In other words, schadenfreude isn't your ordinary, everyday, run-of-the-mill envy. It is jealousy with a sharper edge. It is the secret pleasure we take in the pain or embarrassment of another.

It should go without saving that neither emotion has any place in the season. This is, after all, the time of year that is supposed to bring us closer to God and each other. But. as the young Sister's story makes clear, when every message we are sent focuses on what we have, not what we hope, what we buy, not what we believe; what we spend, not what we share, it is easy to lose track of what's really important. Family. Faith. Friendship.

Just think about it. Amazing things would happen if we all stopped believing we had to buy a sleighload of gifts to celebrate the holiday. Nerves would be calmed. Pressure would disappear. Joy and goodwill would become the focus of the holidays. The next thing you know, folks would stop having fits and start having fun. People would be counting their blessings instead of their money. We would gather together for midnight sermons instead of all-night sales. Ecstasy would replace anxiety as the sentiment of the season. And, come December 25, each and every one of us could wake up with the real spirit of Christmas: blessed, not stressed.

I know what you're thinking. What does any of this have to do with the jealousy/resentment/envy thing, the thing this column was supposed to be about? Everything. Experts say we are now entering the peak weeks of jealousy and schadenfreude. Though we don't like to talk about it, envy and Christmas go together like turkey and gravy. Why? Because when we focus our attention on having the right thing instead of doing the right thing, we create an environment which not only breeds but feeds the green-eyed monster. Of course, this raises the question of what to do about it. I don't think imposing a total ban on gifts is the answer. I do think we should all try to find ways to have a more spiritual holiday. Patti LaBelle told me how her family got a new attitude about Christmas. Years ago, her husband introduced a tradition in their house that has come to mean so much. They couldn't just exchange store-bought gifts; they had to also give something of themselves. A letter from the heart to the family member whose name they pick out of a hat.

"In it, we would tell how we felt about each other," says Patti, "how that person had touched us during the year. That tradition created so many special moments in our household, all because we took the time to say `I love you.' "