I enjoy Christmas.

Oh, I’ll admit that all the hustle and bustle in the name of Christmas rouses my inner Grinch and makes me a bit grouchy.

Most of the time, I can suppress that Seussian holiday spoiler by avoiding shopping malls, big box stores and a lot of the excess of the season. If he happens to poke his green nose out of his den, which he does from time to time, I can convince him that it’s not time to come out of hibernation yet, and he fluffs his pillow and goes back to sleep.

There is always a little bit of a struggle between the secular and sacred manifestation, but I don’t think there has to be. For the most part, Christmas makes people jolly no matter what their religious beliefs, and jolly is a condition that tends to be contagious.

During December, people are more magnanimous toward their fellow man than usual, and I have found they are met with magnanimity in return. Such feelings of goodwill are in the spirit of Christmas, after all.

Moreover, it’s probably pretty close to impossible to ignore the sacred side of the holiday, if only because Christmas carols about Bethlehem, angels and a baby in a barn are almost ubiquitous during the weeks leading up to the holiday. The Christmas story is out there. You can ignore it, but it takes work.

That’s why I’m mostly comfortable with most of the secular side of the season, Santa Claus, “Jingle Bells,” and even some of the silly songs about front teeth and jingle bells rocking around the Christmas tree. I enjoy the lights and really get into the cookies, and I’m even comfortable with the shopping, as long as my participation in it is kept to a minimum.

But, having enjoyed a Baptist upbringing, my comfort with the secular side of Christmas only goes so far, though. The real Christmas, the one on Dec. 25, is what’s important. When the secular starts to drown out the sacred, I have to insulate myself from the secular.

That’s easy to do, though. All I have to do is spend an hour or two listening to some authentic Christmas music — no roasting chestnuts, mamas kissing Santa Claus or partridges — and contemplate one of the various Nativity scenes that appear around our house. That brings me around to thinking about the real story.

I don’t think about the story itself. Instead I focus on the broad themes of the story, the humility inherent in being born to poor parents in less than ideal circumstances, the faith of those parents that led them to obey God, and the promise that God is with us always.

Christmas is different than it used to be for Karen and I. Where we used to spend Christmas in a house full of relatives, we now celebrate it at home by ourselves. Well into adulthood, we waited with anticipation the opening of gifts to see what we would receive. The excitement of the children as they opened theirs became our focus. Now, instead of excitement, we simply accept gifts in the knowledge that they were given to us in love, and we’re just as happy if we don’t receive anything.

But the center of the holiday is still what an old hymn calls “The Old, Old Story.” It is still a good story to hear. More important, it is a story we need to keep in our hearts.

We wish all of you joy and peace this Christmas season, and we hope God blesses you all, no matter what your faith.

Shalom aleichem.