An Essay on Christmas
Essay.

by Robert G. Ingersoll
(1892)

From The Works of Robert G. Ingersoll (Dresden Edition, 1900–1902), Volume 11.
Source: https://thegreatagnostic.com/works/an-essay-on-christmas/
Public domain. CC0 / Public Domain Mark 1.0.

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MY family and I regard Christmas as a holiday—that is to say, a day
of rest and pleasure—a day to get acquainted with each other, a day to
recall old memories, and for the cultivation of social amenities. The
festival now called Christmas is far older than Christianity. It was
known and celebrated for thousands of years before the establishment of
what is known as our religion. It is a relic of sun-worship. It is the
day on which the sun triumphs over the hosts of darkness, and thousands
of years before the New Testament was written, thousands of years before
the republic of Rome existed, before one stone of Athens was laid,
before the Pharaohs ruled in Egypt, before the religion of Brahma,
before Sanscrit was spoken, men and women crawled out of their caves,
pushed the matted hair from their eyes, and greeted the triumph of the
sun over the powers of the night.

There are many relics of this worship—among which is the shaving of the
priest's head, leaving the spot shaven surrounded by hair, in imitation
of the rays of the sun. There is still another relic—the ministers of
our day close their eyes in prayer. When men worshiped the sun—when
they looked at that luminary and implored its assistance—they shut
their eyes as a matter of necessity. Afterward the priests looking
at their idols glittering with gems, shut their eyes in flattery,
pretending that they could not bear the effulgence of the presence; and
to-day, thousands of years after the old ideas have passed away, the
modern parson, without knowing the origin of the custom, closes his eyes
when he prays.

There are many other relics and souvenirs of the dead worship of the
sun, and this festival was adopted by Egyptians, Greeks, Romans, and by
Christians. As a matter of fact, Christianity furnished new steam for an
old engine, infused a new spirit into an old religion, and, as a matter
of course, the old festival remained.

For all of our festivals you will find corresponding pagan festivals.
For instance, take the eucharist, the communion, where persons partake
of the body and blood of the Deity. This is an exceedingly old custom.
Among the ancients they ate cakes made of corn, in honor of Ceres and
they called these cakes the flesh of the goddess, and they drank wine in
honor of Bacchus, and called this the blood of their god. And so I could
go on giving the pagan origin of every Christian ceremony and custom.
The probability is that the worship of the sun was once substantially
universal, and consequently the festival of Christ was equally wide
spread.

As other religions have been produced, the old customs have been adopted
and continued, so that the result is, this festival of Christmas is
almost world-wide. It is popular because it is a holiday. Overworked
people are glad of days that bring rest and recreation and allow them to
meet their families and their friends. They are glad of days when they
give and receive gifts—evidences of friendship, of remembrance and
love. It is popular because it is really human, and because it is
interwoven with our customs, habits, literature, and thought.

For my part I am willing to have two or three a year—the more holidays
the better. Many people have an idea that I am opposed to Sunday. I am
perfectly willing to have two a week. All I insist on is that these days
shall be for the benefit of the people, and that they shall be kept not
in a way to make folks miserable or sad or hungry, but in a way to make
people happy, and to add a little to the joy of life. Of course, I am
in favor of everybody keeping holidays to suit himself, provided he does
not interfere with others, and I am perfectly willing that everybody
should go to church on that day, provided he is willing that I should go
somewhere else.—The Tribune, New York, December, 1889.

Has Freethought a Constructive Side

THE object of the Freethinker is to ascertain the truth—the conditions
of well-being—to the end that this life will be made of value. This is
the affirmative, positive, and constructive side.

Without liberty there is no such thing as real happiness. There may be
the contentment of the slave—of one who is glad that he has passed the
day without a beating—one who is happy because he has had enough to
eat—but the highest possible idea of happiness is freedom.

All religious systems enslave the mind. Certain things are
demanded—certain things must be believed—certain things must
be done—and the man who becomes the subject or servant of this
superstition must give up all idea of individuality or hope of
intellectual growth and progress.

The religionist informs us that there is somewhere in the universe an
orthodox God, who is endeavoring to govern the world, and who for this
purpose resorts to famine and flood, to earthquake and pestilence—and
who, as a last resort, gets up a revival of religion. That is called
"affirmative and positive."

The man of sense knows that no such God exists, and thereupon he affirms
that the orthodox doctrine is infinitely absurd. This is called a
"negation." But to my mind it is an affirmation, and is a part of the
positive side of Freethought.

A man who compels this Deity to abdicate his throne renders a vast and
splendid service to the human race.

As long as men believe in tyranny in heaven they will practice tyranny
on earth. Most people are exceedingly imitative, and nothing is so
gratifying to the average orthodox man as to be like his God.

These same Christians tell us that nearly everybody is to be punished
forever, while a few fortunate Christians who were elected and selected
billions of ages before the world was created, are to be happy. This
they call the "tidings of great joy." The Freethinker denounces this
doctrine as infamous beyond the power of words to express. He says, and
says clearly, that a God who would create a human being, knowing that
that being was to be eternally miserable, must of necessity be an
infinite fiend.

The free man, into whose brain the serpent of superstition has not
crept, knows that the dogma of eternal pain is an infinite falsehood. He
also knows—if the dogma be true—that every decent human being should
hate, with every drop of his blood, the creator of the universe. He also
knows—if he knows anything—that no decent human being could be happy
in heaven with a majority of the human race in hell. He knows that
a mother could not enjoy the society of Christ with her children in
perdition; and if she could, he knows that such a mother is simply
a wild beast. The free man knows that the angelic hosts, under such
circumstances, could not enjoy themselves unless they had the hearts of
boa-constrictors.

It will thus be seen that there is an affirmative, a positive, a
constructive side to Freethought.

What is the positive side?

First: A denial of all orthodox falsehoods—an exposure of all
superstitions. This is simply clearing the ground, to the end that seeds
of value may be planted. It is necessary, first, to fell the trees, to
destroy the poisonous vines, to drive out the wild beasts. Then comes
another phase—another kind of work. The Freethinker knows that the
universe is natural—that there is no room, even in infinite space, for
the miraculous, for the impossible. The Freethinker knows, or feels that
he knows, that there is no sovereign of the universe, who, like some
petty king or tyrant, delights in showing his authority. He feels that
all in the universe are conditioned beings, and that only those are
happy who live in accordance with the conditions of happiness, and this
fact or truth or philosophy embraces all men and all gods—if there be
gods.

The positive side is this: That every good action has good
consequences—that it bears good fruit forever—and that every bad
action has evil consequences, and bears bad fruit. The Freethinker also
asserts that every man must bear the consequences of his actions—that
he must reap what he sows, and that he cannot be justified by the
goodness of another, or damned for the wickedness of another.

There is still another side, and that is this: The Freethinker knows
that all the priests and cardinals and popes know nothing of the
supernatural—they know nothing about gods or angels or heavens or
hells—nothing about inspired books or Holy Ghosts, or incarnations or
atonements. He knows that all this is superstition pure and simple.
He knows also that these people—from pope to priest, from bishop to
parson, do not the slightest good in this world—that they live upon the
labor of others—that they earn nothing themselves—that they contribute
nothing toward the happiness, or well-being, or the wealth of mankind.
He knows that they trade and traffic in ignorance and fear, that they
make merchandise of hope and grief—and he also knows that in every
religion the priest insists on five things—First: There is a God.
Second: He has made known his will. Third: He has selected me to explain
this message. Fourth: We will now take up a collection; and Fifth: Those
who fail to subscribe will certainly be damned.

The positive side of Freethought is to find out the truth—the facts of
nature—to the end that we may take advantage of those truths, of those
facts—for the purpose of feeding and clothing and educating mankind.

In the first place, we wish to find that which will lengthen human
life—that which will prevent or kill disease—that which will do away
with pain—that which will preserve or give us health.

We also want to go in partnership with these forces of nature, to the
end that we may be well fed and clothed—that we may have good houses
that protect us from heat and cold. And beyond this—beyond these simple
necessities—there are still wants and aspirations, and free-thought
will give us the highest possible in art—the most wonderful and
thrilling in music—the greatest paintings, the most marvelous
sculpture—in other words, free-thought will develop the brain to
its utmost capacity. Freethought is the mother of art and science, of
morality and happiness.

It is charged by the worshipers of the Jewish myth, that we destroy,
that we do not build.

What have we destroyed? We have destroyed the idea that a monster
created and governs this world—the declaration that a God of infinite
mercy and compassion upheld slavery and polygamy and commanded the
destruction of men, women, and babes. We have destroyed the idea that
this monster created a few of his children for eternal joy, and the vast
majority for everlasting pain. We have destroyed the infinite absurdity
that salvation depends upon belief, that investigation is dangerous, and
that the torch of reason lights only the way to hell. We have taken a
grinning devil from every grave, and the curse from death—and in the
place of these dogmas, of these infamies, we have put that which is
natural and that which commends itself to the heart and brain.

Instead of loving God, we love each other. Instead of the religion of
the sky—the religion of this world—the religion of the family—the
love of husband for wife, of wife for husband—the love of all for
children. So that now the real religion is: Let us live for each other;
let us live for this world, without regard for the past and without fear
for the future. Let us use our faculties and our powers for the benefit
of ourselves and others, knowing that if there be another world, the
same philosophy that gives us joy here will make us happy there.

Nothing can be more absurd than the idea that we can do something to
please or displease an infinite Being. If our thoughts and actions can
lessen or increase the happiness of God, then to that extent God is the
slave and victim of man.

The energies of the world have been wasted in the service of a
phantom—millions of priests have lived on the industry of others and no
effort has been spared to prevent the intellectual freedom of mankind.

We know, if we know anything, that supernatural religion has no
foundation except falsehood and mistake. To expose these falsehoods—to
correct these mistakes—to build the fabric of civilization on the
foundation of demonstrated truth—is the task of the Freethinker. To
destroy guide-boards that point in the wrong direction—to correct
charts that lure to reef and wreck—to drive the fiend of fear from the
mind—to protect the cradle from the serpent of superstition and dispel
the darkness of ignorance with the sun of science—is the task of the
Freethinker.

What constructive work has been done by the church? Christianity gave us
a flat world a few thousand years ago—a heaven above it where Jehovah
dwells and a hell below it where most people will dwell. Christianity
took the ground that a certain belief was necessary to salvation and
that this belief was far better and of more importance than the practice
of all the virtues. It became the enemy of investigation—the bitter and
relentless foe of reason and the liberty of thought. It committed every
crime and practiced every cruelty in the propagation of its creed. It
drew the sword against the freedom of the world. It established schools
and universities for the preservation of ignorance. It claimed to have
within its keeping the source and standard of all truth. If the church
had succeeded the sciences could not have existed.

Freethought has given us all we have of value. It has been the great
constructive force. It is the only discoverer, and every science is its
child.—The Truth Seeker, New York 1890.
