Krampusnacht 2013

Fröhliche Sankt Nikolaus Tag!

Husband and I just got back from visiting Husband's family in Seattle, but were in time to see the second annual DC Krampusnacht.

First observation about Krampusnacht: If I had been a child, I would have been terrified. I mean, I was afraid of Santa, so if I was afraid of Santa, than this:

Krampusnacht 2013

or this:

Krampusnacht 2013

would have been the end of me.

Second observation about Krampusnacht: I loved the weird amalgamation of people who paraded down the street. People who had no idea this was happening, but joined in, people who had been planning elaborate costumes for months, some RennFaire kids, some Comicon kids, some Goth-looking kids, a drunk sousaphone player blatting Christmas carols, people promoting Santa's Cause DC, others just giving out candy. There was also some kind of dance troupe who were hitting each other with sticks, as well as some actual Germans (or Swiss, or Austrians, I couldn't tell.) Others just stood by and laughed at the crazy fun of it all. But no one in the crowd seemed to mind the differences, and rather, a dare I say festive? mood won the day. Even the cops seemed bemused.

Third (and mildly theological) observation on Krampusnacht: In the places where Krampusnacht is traditionally observed, the Krampus accompanies St. Nicolas on the eve of St. Nicolas's feast day, December 6th. St. Nicolas rewards the good children, while the Krampus gives out sticks or coal, or beats (really, threatens or pretends to beat) the bad children. The Krampus carries chains, noisemakers, and sometimes a basket on his back to cart bad children off to his lair so he can eat them.
        This idea really appeals to me. Not the eating/beating children part, but the part where the entire community recognizes -- literally, re-cognize, re-thinks-- not just the existence of good, but the existence of evil. It's standing right in front of them, albeit in a cartoonish form, but the chains that bind and the teeth that gnash are reminders of the how evil, even at its most banal, is a force that destroys. Evil rarely looks outwardly like a Krampus. Mostly, it looks like violence behind closed doors, grinding systemic oppression, the rippling effects of poverty, or the crippling indifference to those around us. And if that's not scary, I don't know what is.

Here's to the Nerds

So, this weekend I went to what must be the world's largest convention of biblical scholars, theologians, and religious studies professors. There were 10,000 people at AAR/SBL this year, and attendees ranged from luminaries in the respective fields, to professors at seminaries, universities, and colleges, to doctoral and masters students, and those just plain old interested enough to shell out a couple hundred bucks and sit in rooms listening to lectures from 9:00am to 9:00pm.  And every last one of them, in his or her own special way, was an absolute weirdo. And I loved them.

This isn't to say that the people there weren't well-adjusted members of society. I'm sure at least some of them were. But seriously -- who spends years and years and years studying Greek grammar with an undying passion? Who spends years unpacking one chapter, or even one paragraph, or one sentence, or one word of Scripture, and then writes a 400-page book about it? Who spends the majority of her life absolutely broke so she can study something esoteric and then teach three sections of Religion 101 every semester until she gets tenure, if she ever gets tenure? The answer is nerds. Weirdo nerds.

And what was great about going to AAR/SBL was that they were all there, together. Sharing ideas, seeing long-lost friends and classmates, getting really, really excited about stuff that 99.99% of the population doesn't care about. But they care, and deeply. And they care together.  What I loved was the community which formed around a mutual love of the subject. How, even through the academic posturing of desperate doctoral students looking for work, every now and then their very self shone through and you caught a glimpse of what they loved and how they couldn't help who they were. In this environment, there was a live-and-let-live attitude about what made you tick, and acceptance of others in their very own special case of obsession of Marcion of Smyrna and the Shaping of Christian Identity in the Martyrdom of Polycarp. Yup. I've got no idea what that was about, but I'm happy for him. And everyone else was, too.

And in this, this acceptance of others in all of their oddness, was what made the community so wonderful. May we all learn to not just tolerate, but to embrace the differences. In this acceptance was a little slice of heaven.

You go nerds.