A New York born Sikhs take on celebrating Christmas
I am the only Amritdhari in my family. I am also the oldest of four Children. We were all born in the United States to a dad who came here at age five. We grew up going to Catholic School. We made paper wreaths in Kindergarten, attended liturgy, and watched with curiosity as other kids went on line for communion. We would see our neighbors with their Christmas lights and our friends with their pictures on Santa’s laps. Santa would come to are school and ask the children what they wanted. Growing up in New York, Christmas is a magical time.
As a young child, I just wanted gifts and gingerbread houses. I wanted to decorate a tree, and sing carols like the other kids at school. Our family humored it, and each year we celebrated. I did this without question, until I turned twelve years old.
At age twelve, I learned about Sikhi and fell in love. My parents thought it was just a phase. Now 12 years later, I am glad that they were proved wrong. It was after learning about Sikhi that I wondered if celebrating Christmas was okay and what it meant.
One of the things I love about Sikhi is the message of Pluralism. Sikhi teaches that it is not mere religiosity that leads to God, it is pure love and kindness. Guru Gobind Singh built mosques and would wake Muslims up for their prayers. Guru Teg Bhadur ji gave his life for human rights. He laid down his life so followers of a religion that he disagreed with could practice freely. The plural message of Gurbani, made me feel like celebrating Christmas was okay.
That was, until I learned about the sacrifice of the beautiful princes. The sacrifice of the brave Sings of Chamkaur Sahib and Fatehgarh Sahib. A sacrifice beyond comparison. I learned how Guru Gobind Singh ji sent his sons into battle, and watch them attain matrydom. I learned how Baba Zorawar Singh Ji, Mata Gujri ji, and Baba Fateh Singh ji were beaten and tortured in the jail of Morinda, how they kept their faith in the face of tyrants, who are very much like today’s ISIS. They were kept hungry in the cold and suffocated by having a brick wall built around them. At 7 and 9 they stood fearless in the fact of death. They were bribed and told that they will have every comfort if they convert to Islam. Still the princes stayed true to their faith, to the vows of their Amrit.
I learned about how the Sikhs stayed hungry in Anandpur Sahib for months, how they endlessly fought for justice. I heard about how much Guru Gobind Singh loved his Sikhs. He kissed their foreheads and feet. A Guru kissing the feet of his disciples? That was a first. A Guru who, after finding out his sons were tortured and martyred, declared that only four died but thousands (all my Sikhs) are still alive. A Guru who did not cover the dead bodies of his sons because he did not have cloth to cover the bodies of all his Sikhs. A Guru who walked barefoot through the battlefield so he would not step on the kesh of any of his precious Sikhs. A Guru who gave his Khalsa everything. He gave us his kakaars, his image, his family, his name, and even authority over him.
All this happened in seven days. These are the seven days of sacrifice, the seven days of Poh, December 21-28. These are the holiest days in our history. They are full of unparalled sacrifice. I had spent much of my childhood oblivious to these days. But now I knew.
For the longest time I felt so guilty during this time. I would fight with my sisters when they bought home a tree and put up lights. I would be so sad that everyone got lost in the holidays and did not remember the Sahibzaday. That was till two years ago.
Gurbani tells us that God loves his saints and that God is one with his saints. Christ had one message. Love God and neighbor as one. A message that our Gurus stressed and taught us. So in theory there is nothing wrong with celebrating the birth of a soul who loved God. Who loved God so much he gave his life. I bet Guru ji would have embraced Christ like he embraced Mian Mir ji, and Bir Buddhu Shah and Pandit Shiv Datt. A saint is a saint no matter the faith.
At the same time I thought, these are the holiest days in the Sikh faith how could we forget them. I wanted my sisters to feel the love I felt, so I met them halfway. I told them I would not complain when they celebrate Christmas, and I would join them, if they sat and listened to the sakhi of the sahibzaday. They agreed.
I realized that there is nothing wrong with celebrating the birth of a great soul, but it would be a shame if we forget the most important days of Sikhi. While Sikhs don’t believe is 'sog' (mourning), we do believe in 'Bairag' (a love filled feeling of longing). It is important that we use the holiday season as an opportunity to teach our youth about their history. The greatest gift is for us to realize our royalty, to realize that we are the decedents of Guru Gobind Singh.
Each year we used to fight. Now I give my sisters gifts for Christmas on the 25th. The other days, I tell them Sakhis and I remind them that every bit of happiness they have is because the sahibzaday gave the ultimate sacrifice. We are alive because of them. We thrive because of them. We should remember them always but especially during this time. I also give gifts on the Parkash Purab of Guru Gobind Singh.
I want to share this experience because so many Sikh families get lost in the holiday season and forget about the Sahibzaday. Our youth deserve to have their hearts colored in the love of Guru Gobind Singh jee. It is important that we teach our children who they are.