Let’s talk about the most controversial letter in December.
Not politics. Not Jesus. Not Santa. Not even that one relative who insists Die Hard is a documentary.
I’m talking about the X.
That one lonely, misunderstood, wildly overqualified letter doing heavy cultural labor every winter while people argue about whether it’s ruining Christmas, stealing Christ, canceling religion, or personally keying their pickup truck in the church parking lot.
Because every year, right on schedule, someone spots the word X-mas and reacts like they’ve uncovered a secret Vatican memo titled “Operation Delete Baby Jesus.”
Relax.
The X isn’t new.
The X isn’t hostile.
The X isn’t a Silicon Valley conspiracy hatched by oat-milk baristas.
The X has been here longer than your outrage algorithm.
THE X IS NOT A SCISSORS
First things first: the X does not mean “cross out.”
This is where the annual meltdown begins.
People see the X and assume it’s an eraser. Like someone took a red Sharpie and said, “Nope, not today, Christ.”
But historically, the X is shorthand. Ancient shorthand. Scholarly shorthand. Nerd shorthand. The kind invented by people who actually read things instead of reacting to Facebook thumbnails.
In Greek, the word for Christ begins with the letter Chi.
Χριστός.
That first letter?
Looks like an X.
So X-mas isn’t removing Christ.
It’s naming Him efficiently.
The X is basically saying, “We know who we’re talking about. We don’t need to spell it out every time like we’re filling out a Scantron.”
The irony here is delicious:
The people most offended by the X are often the ones least interested in ancient languages, historical theology, or context of any kind.
It’s like being furious about Latin phrases while refusing to learn Latin.
THE X IS AN AMERICAN RORSCHACH TEST
Here’s what’s really happening.
The X has become a mirror.
People don’t react to the letter.
They react to what they think it represents.
To some, it means:
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Change
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Other people existing
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Starbucks cups without enough scripture on them
The X is a blank space where everyone projects their anxieties.
It’s not a letter.
It’s a vibe test.
And America fails it annually.
THE X IS EFFICIENT, AND WE HATE THAT
Let’s be honest: Christmas is already doing a lot.
Lights.
Songs.
Decorations.
Family obligations.
Economic pressure that could power a small country.
So when someone shortens Christmas to X-mas, they’re not waging cultural war.
They’re trying to:
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Fit it on a sign
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Save space
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Write faster
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Avoid carpal tunnel
Efficiency is not heresy.
But culturally, we hate efficiency when it feels like it might threaten tradition.
We’ll happily microwave a 12-pound turkey but draw the line at a letter saving ink.
THE X IS MORE HONEST THAN THE MARKETING
Here’s a thought that makes people uncomfortable:
If Christmas were truly only about religion, the malls would be closed.
But they’re not.
They’re open early.
They’re open late.
They’re open in a way that suggests Jesus personally signed a retail lease agreement.
Christmas, as practiced, is a hybrid holiday:
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Faith
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Commerce
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Nostalgia
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Guilt
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Plastic
The X actually fits that reality better than the full word ever could.
It acknowledges that Christmas has become a cultural megastructure, not a single-use spiritual product.
The X is honest.
We hate honesty.
THE X IS THE MOST FLEXIBLE LETTER IN THE ALPHABET
X is the letter of mystery.
X marks the spot.
X is the unknown variable.
X is where pirates dig.
X is where math teachers ruin childhood confidence.
It’s adaptable.
It’s symbolic.
It holds multiple meanings at once.
Which makes it perfect for Christmas—a holiday that somehow manages to be:
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Sacred
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Commercial
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Emotional
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Loud
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Exhausting
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Comforting
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Confusing
X doesn’t narrow the meaning.
It expands it.
That’s what scares people.
THE WAR ON X-MAS IS PERFORMATIVE THEATER
Every December, someone announces they’re “boycotting” X-mas.
From what?
Holiday cards?
Weather forecasts?
Department store signage?
This is not resistance.
This is cosplay.
No one is canceling Christmas.
No one is banning churches.
No one is forcing anyone to replace hymns with jingles.
The outrage is symbolic outrage—cheap, renewable, and socially rewarded.
It costs nothing.
It accomplishes nothing.
It generates engagement.
The X is just the trigger word.
THE X IS OLDER THAN YOUR OPINION
This might sting:
X-mas predates the internet.
It predates cable news.
It predates your uncle’s Facebook account.
It shows up in written English centuries ago.
Used by clergy.
Used by scholars.
Used by people who actually knew what they were doing.
Which means the outrage is not about preservation.
It’s about ownership.
People don’t want Christmas protected.
They want it controlled.
THE X IS A LINGUISTIC SHRUG
There’s something wonderfully indifferent about the X.
It doesn’t argue.
It doesn’t explain.
It doesn’t plead.
It just sits there.
And that drives people nuts.
Because modern outrage depends on engagement.
And the X refuses to engage.
It’s a shrug in letter form.
THE X EXPOSES WHO NEEDS CONSTANT VALIDATION
If seeing “X-mas” threatens your faith, the problem is not the letter.
Strong beliefs don’t collapse over typography.
Confident traditions don’t panic over abbreviations.
The reaction tells you everything you need to know about who feels secure—and who needs Christmas to constantly reassure them.
THE X IS A PERFECT SYMBOL FOR MODERN BELIEF
Modern belief is layered.
People believe:
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In God
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In family
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In tradition
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In childhood nostalgia
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In whatever helps them survive December
The X allows all of it to coexist without demanding purity tests.
And purity tests are America’s favorite seasonal sport.
THE X DOESN’T REMOVE MEANING—IT REVEALS IT
The funniest part of all this?
If someone writes “X-mas” with kindness, generosity, and love, the spirit is intact.
If someone writes “Christmas” while being cruel, greedy, or performatively righteous, the spirit is gone.
Letters don’t carry morality.
Behavior does.
THE REAL FEAR ISN’T LOSING CHRIST—IT’S LOSING CONTROL
Here’s the uncomfortable truth hiding behind the outrage:
People aren’t afraid Christ is being erased.
They’re afraid their version of Christmas isn’t dominant anymore.
The X symbolizes plurality.
Shared space.
Multiple meanings.
That’s the real issue.
IN DEFENSE OF THE X
The X is not lazy.
It’s not hostile.
It’s not new.
It’s ancient, flexible, symbolic, efficient, and oddly appropriate for a holiday that means twenty different things to twenty different people at the same dinner table.
The X doesn’t steal Christmas.
It reflects it.
Messy.
Layered.
Contradictory.
Human.
And maybe that’s exactly why it makes people so uncomfortable.
FINAL THOUGHT (NO ANGELS SINGING)
If your joy survives December, the spelling didn’t matter.
If it doesn’t, the spelling wasn’t the problem.
So write Christmas.
Write X-mas.
Sing hymns.
Sing pop songs.
Light candles.
Plug in inflatables.
Just don’t pretend a single letter has the power to undo a holiday that has survived empires, calendars, and human beings.
The X isn’t the enemy.
It’s just honest enough to make us argue about it every year.
And honestly?
That feels very on brand for Christmas.