I’ve decided to be offended.  As a group, we Christians are pretty tolerant toward others.  The Bible teaches us that God gave every person a free will to choose good or evil.  It also instructs us that every person is created in God’s image and therefore deserves respect.

So most of the time, we are the ones trying not to offend others.  But our goodwill has been taken advantage of, and it’s time for the tables to be reversed.  For several decades now we have watched a steady secularization of the celebration of Christ’s birth formerly known as Christmas.  Christmas has systematically been replaced by Seasons Greetings, Winter Celebrations, and Holiday Trees. 

Public schools have been intimidated by the ACLU and others into removing even the slightest reference to Christ from their songs, decorations and even, in some cases, the words the students are allowed to speak.

Public buildings in many places no longer have Christmas trees.  They are now Holiday Trees or Winter Celebrations. 

Retailers have also been intimidated by the vulgar minority into removing Merry Christmas signs from their stores lest they offend the one percent of the population that possess the bad manners and disrespect to complain and intimidate. 

We Christians have been told that the purpose of the secularization of Christmas is to make sure we don’t offend anyone who doesn’t believe in Jesus.  For the most part we have acquiesced: like lambs led to the slaughter we have retreated into our church houses and quietly whispered, “We certainly don’t want to offend anyone.” 

Atheists make up less than four percent of the American population (and most of them are on the cable news shows during the Christmas season).  Jews comprise another three or four percent.  Muslims have climbed to nearly one percent of our country’s religious makeup.  Hindus and Buddhists together barely even register on the chart.  So all totaled, the class of people who might potentially be offended by Christmas is significantly less than 10% of the American people.

I believe it’s time the remaining 90% become offended that the minority is trying to intimidate the majority!

So, this Christmas season I have decided to become offended by retail stores that obviously avoid any reference to Christmas.  I am going to be offended by atheists, Jews, or Muslims who clamor onto the news programs complaining that the majority of Americans believe Jesus Christ was born of a virgin in Bethlehem to save us from our sins.

I will certainly be offended by attempts to remove manger scenes from public places and replace them with Santa’s reindeer and Kwanza rainbow posters.  I will be offended if school “holiday” presentations sing Jingle Bells but glaringly avoid Silent Night.

Dennis Hastert, Speaker of the House of Representatives in Washington D.C. issued a directive this week ordering the name of the tree in front of the UP.S. Capital to be changed back to the Capital Christmas Tree.  Governor Arnold Schwartznagger made a similar move in California a couple of years ago. 

So perhaps we can get a little momentum going with this Offended Christians Movement.   Join me, won’t you?

When I was a young turkey, new to the coop,

My big brother Mike took me out on the stoop.

Then he sat me down, and he spoke real slow,

And he told me there was something that I had to know.

His look and his tone I will always remember,

When he told me of the horrors of Black November;

“Come about August, now listen to me,

Each day you’ll be thick, where once you were thin.”

“And you’ll grow a big rubbery thing under your chin,

And then one morning, when you’re warm in your bed,

In’ll burst the farmer’s wife, and hack off your head.”

“Then she’ll pluck out all your feathers so you’re bald’n pink,

And scoop out all your insides and leave ya lyin’ in the sink.

And then comes the worst part,” he said not bluffing,

“She’ll spread your cheeks and pack your rear with stuffing.”

Well, the rest of his words were too grim to repeat,

I sat on the stoop like a winged piece of meat,

And decided on the spot that to avoid being cooked,

I’d have to lay low and remain overlooked.

I began a new diet of nuts and granola,

High-roughage salads, juice and diet cola,

And as they ate pastries, chocolates and crepes,

I stayed in my room doing Jane Fonda tapes.

I maintained my weight of two pounds and a half,

And tried not to notice when the bigger birds laughed.

But ‘twas I who was laughing, under my breath,

As they chomped and they chewed, ever closer to death.

And sure enough when Black November rolled around,

I was the last turkey left in the entire compound.

So when I’m a pet in the farmer’s wife’s lap,

I haven’t a worry, so I eat and I nap.

She held me today, while sewing and humming,

And smiled at me and said “Christmas is coming.”