Revisiting mistletoe

By Jeff Long

While waiting in the infusion center of Southeast Cancer Center the other day, these words were overheard: "Won't be seeing much mistletoe this year, I imagine."

The remark was meant as a commentary on our culture in the year of our Lord 2017.

To be fair, mistletoe isn't something I've seen much in recent years. We do hear about it, though, in the ubiquitous crooning of Bing Crosby:

I'll be home for Christmas.

You can count on me.

Please have snow

and mistletoe

and presents under the tree.

Mistletoe, like so many elements dragged out of our closets and basements for Christmas, has nothing to do with Jesus' birth narrative.

At this point in the column, I'm going to guess there's some eye-rolling going on among my readers. We just don't want to hear anybody challenge our cherished holiday traditions. Ok, I won't mess with mistletoe, but if you have some, you might think twice about putting it up. You may have guessed why already, but please keep reading.

Mistletoe is a parasitic plant, growing on tree branches or trunks. Its ceremonial use dates to Saturnalia, the ancient Roman celebration of the winter solstice that culminates Dec. 25. (Yes, this is where we get the date for Christmas.) Christians in antiquity usurped the same date as a challenge to Roman pagan customs. Mistletoe had a magical reputation: capable of bestowing life and fertility, even as an aphrodisiac. See where we're going here?

Kissing under the mistletoe started with Greco-Roman culture. A young woman standing under an ugly ball of mistletoe beautifully dressed up with evergreens, ribbons and ornaments could not refuse to be kissed. Whoa. The legend of mistletoe is not news to us but should be revisited in the light of the avalanche of sexual-harassment allegations.

Let's state it again: a young woman standing under a ball of mistletoe could not refuse to be kissed. Sexual harassment and coercion is thus institutionalized among our cherished Christmas customs. In some cultures, at least in the past, a kiss under the mistletoe was interpreted as a promise to marry. Goodness. Under the influence of alcohol, people are capable of many stupid things, such as a drunken smooch under a mistletoe ball. The old wedding liturgy, still utilized on occasions, assumes total sobriety in deciding to marry.

No one is forced into marriage if they kiss under the mistletoe today. I get it. But we pay a price if we forget where these traditions originated, if we do not know what they used to mean.

I went to a website this week that attempted to tie mistletoe into the Christian faith. The author contorted himself into nonsensical prose trying to make the case. It can't be done. And in the light of all the unwanted touching, caressing, pinching and kissing that we hear and read about -- maybe it's time to leave a certain Christmas decoration in the box this year. And every year. Some ideas should be retired.