I grew up Catholic while my wife was raised Jewish. We're no longer religious, but these holiday traditions still hold meaning.

How interfaith and agnostic families choose which religious holiday traditions to keep up.
How interfaith and agnostic families choose which religious holiday traditions to keep up. (Getty Images)

I haven’t lit an advent wreath in nearly 25 years, but the sulfuric scent of a lit match still transports me back to my childhood: dripping wax, the kitchen aglow in candlelight and the elation of knowing that Santa is coming soon. I grew up Catholic, and my wife was raised Jewish. As adults, we have both chosen a life free of organized religion. We are raising our children agnostic, with the option to choose a spiritual life that best suits them as they grow up. Still, we uphold annual holiday traditions throughout the year, including Christmas and Hanukkah.

As I settle comfortably into middle age and watch my two boys grow, I find myself longing for some of the holiday rituals that I’ve abandoned, including the Christmas pageant at my Catholic elementary school, and the familial joy of lighting the advent wreath. It’s not the prayers or the religious aspects that I miss, but the cozy warmth of family traditions. When I think about Christmas with my parents and siblings, I recall a bustling and joyful time of year. I know that what I miss is simply the nostalgia of being young during the holiday season, and the magic of believing. I know too that I’m giving my kids that same warmth when they light the menorah and decorate the tree. There is beauty in passing on some of my favorite traditions, while also creating new ones of our own.

This year, as the holiday season approached, I wondered how other parents were feeling about creating new traditions with their families. I realized that, for better or worse, with or without religion, it’s impossible to give our children the same experiences that we had in our youth.

Spencer in Missouri says that while she feels nostalgia for the Jewish culture in which she was raised, she feels more connected to the Catholic faith in which she has chosen to raise her two kids. “We celebrate Hanukkah and we eat apples and honey at Rosh Hashanah,” says Spencer, but she was never pulled to the religious side of Judaism, and felt the urge to explore other religions. “My goal as a parent is to expose my children to different religions and different cultures, because it’s my job to make them good people.”

Ellie in Wisconsin, meanwhile, feels so connected to her Jewish heritage that she has had a tough time compromising with her husband — who was raised Catholic — and allowing a Christmas tree into her home. “Being a Jewish woman is part of my identity, and I want to make sure my kids know it’s part of theirs too," she says. While she’s OK with her kids celebrating holidays from both of their religions, she didn’t want a Christmas tree to overshadow Hanukkah. “I hope that having a tree and a menorah in December will remind them of the importance of family, love, tradition and being Jewish.”

I personally love that my kids are learning to cherish traditions from both my childhood and my wife’s. We’re not simply blending our religious history, but we’re bringing our own unique traditions to the family that we’ve created together. As my boys learn the Hanukkah Blessings and we create our own family rituals, I feel like we’re building something new and beautiful together.

As a parent in a same-sex marriage, I’m especially mindful of the aspects of religion that alienate my family. Emily in Washington has a similar outlook. Though her son is only 9 months old, she’s already thinking about what traditions to pass onto him, and how to introduce religion into his life. She wants him to attend Christmas Eve mass and find joy in lighting the advent wreath, like she did, but she is torn about raising him in a religion that doesn’t welcome and accept all people. She wonders, “What if he grows up and is gay or trans? Will he feel safe and accepted by the church?”

Emily’s concern about acceptance is one that hits home for me. As a member of the queer community, I have a fraught relationship with certain religious beliefs, which sometimes complicates my warm memories of midnight mass and singing in my church choir. I feel lucky that my wife and I have found a way to give our boys joyful holiday moments.

I think that Mark from New York put it best when he told me that he and his family have shifted the holidays away from religion and toward their shared experiences. “The excitement in our home stems not just from the festive decorations, but from the warmth of being together, cherishing the moments that truly matter,” he says. He and his wife — a blended religious family — embrace the various dimensions of their celebrations. “While we maintain elements of old traditions, the emphasis lies on the universal values that unite us as a family,” says Mark.

My own kids relish the festive energy of the holidays. From spending time with family and friends, to the lights and decorations, visits with Santa and, of course, presents, they’ve brought the magic of the holiday season back into my life. Their joy awakens my long-ago memories of snowy nights and Christmas carols, and I’m once again filled with the joy and wonder of the season.