Once upon a time the holiday season was a quiet time spent with family and friends -- simpler, less commercial, more spiritual, nothing like today's frenzied orgy of consumption.

``There are worlds of money wasted, at this time of year, in getting things that nobody wants and nobody cares for after they are got,'' one observer noted.

Harriet Beecher Stowe wrote those words in 1850. By then, the holiday was well on its way to becoming the retail rave it is today.

`` Every generation for the last 250 years tends to think it was only in the last generation that it got commercialized,'' said Stephen Nissenbaum, an emeritus professor of history at the University of Massachusetts in Amherst. In his book ``The Battle for Christmas,'' Nissenbaum puts that myth to rest by tracing the history of the holiday from colonial New England to the turn of the 20th century.

For most of its history Christmas was a free-for-all, more New Year's Eve or Mardi Gras than the domestic idyll described in Clement Clarke Moore's 1823 poem, ``A Visit From Saint Nicholas'' (better known today as ``The Night Before Christmas''). The holiday has its origins in the Roman festival of Saturnalia, a weeklong winter solstice celebration that featured feasting, drinking, gambling and sex. Men dressed like women, women dressed like men, and masters waited on their slaves in a raucous reversal of the social hierarchy.

Such behavior was almost inevitable during the weeks surrounding the winter solstice in the preindustrial societies of northern Europe, thanks to what Nissenbaum refers to as a ``combustible mix'' of leisure time, abundance and alcohol.

The work of the harvest done, young men had plenty of time on their hands, much of it in the long, dark nights tailor-made for mischief.

In a world without refrigeration, the arrival of cold weather made fresh meat available for the first time in months. But most importantly, December meant beer. By mid-month, whatever grain surplus their hard summer's labor had produced would have been fully fermented and ready to drink.

In the northern Europe of the late Middle Ages, gangs of young men would engage in ``wassailing,'' a cross between Christmas caroling and home invasion. The gangs would visit wealthy homes, often in disguise, and sing songs that threatened violence if they were not invited in for food and drink.

In agrarian societies, practices like wassailing served as a critical safety valve, giving people at the bottom of the social ladder a release that would keep them in line during the rest of the year.

But with the arrival of the Industrial Revolution, factory owners didn't want their employees wandering off for weeks of drunken merriment. During the 1820s, after a series of particularly raucous holiday seasons in New York, the city's elite began campaigning for a more restrained, domestic Christmas. Central to that campaign was the tradition of purchasing gifts, especially for children.

Christmas and America's consumer culture have fed off each other since, said Russell Belk, a professor of business at the University of Utah. His research has shown that the more materialistic people are about Christmas, the less satisfaction they derive from the holiday.

There's no doubt Americans are materialistic about Christmas. Almost half of all Americans crammed stores on the day after Thanksgiving this year, the traditional beginning of the holiday shopping season. By the time the Christmas shopping season is over, the country will have spent in the neighborhood of $150 billion, most of it on gifts. That's an average of $500 for every man, woman and child.

The "War on Christmas" has never been so profitable.

For the fourth year running, conservative Christian groups have spent much of December mobilizing against what they see as a liberal plot to censor Christmas. But this year, it's more than a cause. It's a heck of a fundraiser.

The American Family Assn., a conservative activist group, has rung up more than $550,000 in sales of buttons and magnets stamped with the slogan "Merry Christmas: It's Worth Saying."

Liberty Counsel, a nonprofit law firm affiliated with the religious right, has taken in more than $300,000 with its Help Save Christmas Action Packs. The kits include two buttons, two bumper stickers and "The Memo that Saved Christmas," a guide to defending overt religious expression, such as a Nativity scene in a public school classroom.

Also for sale through conservative websites: Christmas bracelets, tree ornaments and lapel pins intended to send a defiant message to those who would turn December into a multicultural mush of "winter parties," "seasonal sales" and "Happy Holidays" greetings.

Christmas warriors can also download — for free — lists that rank retailers as either "naughty" or "nice," depending on how often their ads refer to Christmas rather than a generic holiday.

"You're seeing people really wanting to take this battle forward," said Mat Staver, the president of Liberty Counsel, based in Orlando, Fla.

With minimal advertising on Christian radio stations, Liberty Counsel rang up more than 12,000 orders for a glossy copy of the legal memo (which is also available online for free). The minimum donation to get an "action pack" was $25; many supporters kicked in more. Liberty Counsel also sold 8,000 buttons ($1 each), with slogans such as "I {heart} CHRISTmas."

Staver's conclusion: "A lot of people have strong feelings about Christmas." Apparently so. A Zogby International poll conducted last month found that 46% of Americans are offended when a store clerk greets them with "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas." More than a third of the 12,800 adults surveyed said they had walked out of a store or resolved to avoid it in the future because the clerks didn't show enough Christmas spirit.

"It's the whole peace-on-earth and goodwill-toward-man thing. It lifts us up when people can say 'Merry Christmas' without worrying about whether it's politically correct," said Jennifer Giroux, a Cincinnati entrepreneur.

She began marketing rubber bracelets urging "Just Say 'Merry Christmas' " last December; this season, she has sold more than 50,000, at $2 apiece. She plans to donate her profits to a Christian charity. "It's never been about the money," she said. "It's about the message."

But if the message can make money, so much the better. Tim Wildmon, president of the American Family Assn., said he was delighted with the revenue from "War on Christmas" merchandise, which supplemented the ministry's $13-million annual budget. All 500,000 buttons and 125,000 magnets were sold out by early December. "It was very successful for us," Wildmon said. Liberty Counsel too rated the sale a success. "It did help with donations, but more than anything else, it helped with exposure," said spokeswoman Robin Bryant. She said the group had added many names to its mailing list for future fund drives. "It just ballooned," Bryant said.

In fact, the fundraising went so well that the religious right plans to branch out. Next up: the War on Easter.

Scouts for the American Family Assn., which is based in Tupelo, Miss., will keep a keen eye out for stores that promote "spring baskets" or "spring bonnets" instead of celebrating the Resurrection. The group already has laid in a stash of Easter buttons, featuring three gold crosses and the words "He Lives." They'll go on sale in early January.

Critics call such fundraising a scam that feeds on lies that the atheist left has a plot to undermine Christianity. "It's too ridiculous," said the Rev. Barry Lynn, executive director of Americans United for the Separation of Church and State. "They're raising money for a nonexistent war."

Those on the front line, however, insist the war is very real — and say wearing their Christmas buttons and bracelets is a morale boost in these last frantic shopping days. Strangers who spot the buttons flash smiles and thumbs-up, or approach to trade horror stories about chain stores that sell "holiday trees" and teachers who ban sacred songs from school concerts.

"I've hugged people I don't even know," said Dr. Sarah Brown, a physician in suburban Philadelphia.

Brown spent $200 this year for 100 lapel pins from the conservative Alliance Defense Fund. She put the pins, which declare "Merry Christmas — it's okay to say it," in an envelope on her office door and invited patients to help themselves. "No sooner would I fill up the envelope than it was empty," she said. "It must please God so much to see that there are still people who want to celebrate."

Those not so keen on Christmas have fewer options for self-expression. The Freedom From Religion Foundation, based in Madison, Wis., sells "Happy Heathen" and "Friendly Neighborhood Atheist" T-shirts as well as bumper stickers that taunt believers with slogans such as "Nothing Fails Like Prayer." But the only holiday-specific items are cards that proclaim: "Reason's Greetings." "We put 'Bah, Humbug' on a card a few years ago, but it didn't sell too well," said Co-President Annie Laurie Gaylor. "I think people were afraid to send it out."

Mariah Carey likes to be at one with the snowfall over the Christmas period - dressed only in a skimpy Santa bikini.

The We Belong Together singer spends the holidays lounging in a hot tub, before rolling around in the freezing cold snow.

Carey admits she loves her scantily-clad snow frolics in Aspen, Colorado, where she has spent the previous nine Christmases, and insists the festive antics are a part of an age-old state custom.

She says: "I like to get out of the hot tub and roll in the snow. It's a tradition for us to have Santa Claus-looking bikinis, jump in the hot tub, and roll in the fresh snow.

"Somebody told me that it was a tradition in Aspen, but maybe they were lying to me."

"It happens every few years, and if you come to the 11 a.m. service next Sunday, you will be alone," Reynolds said. "Well, maybe you won't be alone, but we won't be here."

The downtown cathedral will hold its regular 8 and 9 a.m. services Sunday, then start the first of four Christmas Eve services at 4 p.m.

While it's the fourth Sunday of Advent, it's also Christmas Eve, and Christ Church, like churches across the country, were faced with the prospect of offering services from morning to midnight.

While many churches are choosing to reduce the number of morning services, others are sticking to their Sunday morning schedule and adding numerous evening services.

The Woodlands United Methodist Church will have 13 services on Sunday. It will keep its usual Sunday-morning schedule of five services, at 8:30, 9:15, 9:35, 11 and 11:11 a.m. And it will add eight Christmas Eve services, starting at 1:30 p.m. for families with special-needs members and ending with a candlelight service at 11 p.m.

The church, with 9,600 members, has eight pastors.

"It's not really uncommon for us; we never cancel our Sunday services, and we want to give people the most options, " said Dana Spencer, facilities coordinator. "We have a full staff and a great team. Most will be around all day and might do two to three sermons, or sometimes they come up and lead prayers." The Rev. Ed Robb, senior pastor, will preach at four services. A secret to their success may be the church's chef, who makes meals all day Christmas Eve for staffers and orchestra members who will perform at 11 a.m. and 7, 9 and 11 p.m. Sunday.

Meanwhile, Lakewood Church will stick to its regular Sunday schedule and forgo Christmas Eve services that night.

Second Baptist Church will start early, holding its first candlelight services at 6 tonight at the Woodway and Kingwood campuses, and 7:30 p.m. at the west campus.

Christ the King Evangelical Lutheran Church near Rice University usually has two Sunday-morning services but will have just one, at 10:50 a.m. Its Sunday school classes have been canceled.

"I'm suspecting that there will be less attendance Sunday morning because people may still be out shopping," said the Rev. Kathy Haueisen, who is preaching the lone morning service. "But I may be surprised."

She expects crowds for the Christmas Eve services, which begin at 4 p.m. with Weihnachtsmesse, a German-language service, followed by candlelight services at 6 and 11 p.m.

Last year, when Christmas Day fell on a Sunday, some churches around the country made the unusual decision to cancel Sunday services. With a full slate of Christmas Eve services welcoming the birth of Christ, those pastors felt few worshippers would return Sunday morning.

Last December, the Hartford Institute for Religion Research surveyed Christmas attendance at large and small churches and determined that attendance is often down at Protestant churches when Christmas falls on a Sunday. But attendance at Catholic and Orthodox services tends to increase. Catholics have an obligation to attend Mass every Sunday and on Holy Days such as Christmas.

But even some Catholic churches will be canceling regularly scheduled Masses this year.

"Archbishop (Daniel) DiNardo did ask that morning Masses conclude sometime in the noon hour," said Annette Gonzalez Taylor, spokeswoman for the Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston. "So we do have some parishes that will be canceling Masses regularly scheduled at 1 or 2 p.m."

Christmas services begin officially at 4 p.m. on Christmas Eve, said David Wood, director of the diocese's office of worship.

"The choir, priest and deacons need time to change gears and get ready for the schedule of the evening, which ... runs till midnight," Wood said. Catholics can fulfill their obligations for the fourth Sunday of Advent by attending Mass tonight. They have the option to attend Christmas services on Sunday evening or Monday.

BETHLEHEM - Once again Bethlehem residents are bracing for a bitter, disappointing Christmas.

The West Bank city, which used to host around 100,000 pilgrims celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ over Christmas, expects to receive a fraction of that number this year.

“There is hardly a Christmas feeling in the city”, says Sami Awad, of the Holy Land Trust.

Most, if not all, Bethlehem residents blame the Israelis, specifically for the roadblocks set up between the city and Jerusalem, erected after the Palestinian uprising broke out in 2000. They also blame them for the controversial separation barrier, a long, concrete and wire structure, which snakes along, and in same places in, the West Bank.

Israel says it built the barrier to prevent would-be suicide bombers from reaching its cities, but residents of Bethlehem complain that it has succeeded in virtually imprisoning them inside their own city, and keeping the tourists out. This year however there may be another reason why the tourists aren’t coming - the fierce in-fighting in the Palestinian factions, which potential pilgrims may not realise has so far been confined almost entirely to the Gaza Strip. Sitting in his office, with photographs of Martin Luther King Jr, Mahatma Ghandi and the Dalai Lama on the walls, Awad says the Israelis are deliberately trying to keep people away.

“The Israeli tour operators are telling the tourists not to come, that there is a civil war. But there is no fighting in Bethlehem,” he says. Whatever the reason, the scarcity of pilgrims for yet another year has once again impacted negatively on the local economy, which centres around the tourist trade.

The city’s centrepiece is Manger Square, outside the Church of the Nativity, traditional birth pace of Jesus Christ. It is almost deserted, with only a few locals and a small group of tourists - from Singapore - wandering around. “We can’t make a living here anymore,” complains Ismail, a 55- year-old local taxi driver. Work is scare, he says, indicating a long line of taxis waiting, hoping, for a fare. Ten years ago there were 70 or 80 tourist buses coming in (over Christmas), now maybe there are five,” says Ahmed, who sells coffee in the square.

He can hardly make a living, he says, and cannot pay his wife’s medical bills. ‘99 per cent discount’

Nearby a Christian shop owner shouts that he is offering a “99 per cent discount on everything” in stock.

“Just to sell something,” he says with a tired smile.

Bethlehem did receive ita annual Christmas grant from the Palestinian government - 50,000 US dollars, sent by Prime Minister Ismail Haniya of the ruling Islamic Hamas party.

But the cash is needed to pay outstanding salaries and the festive decorations placed in the city have been paid for by private funding from varied sources, including the Islamic Bank and the Lutheran Church.

Adding to the city’s woes is a strike by municipal employees, who say they have not been paid for months.

“We don’t even have money to come to work,” says Mohammed, a resident of the nearby Aroub refugee camp, who works for the municipality. These are the street cleaners, who “make Bethlehem nice,” as one of the strikers pointedly states.

Bethlehem’s mayor, Dr. Victor Batarsi, says he can only hope they go back to work before Christmas, even though “there is simply no money to pay the workers.”

He says that the people are not paying their taxes either, owing to the situation. Batarsi, a Christian, by law the mayor of Bethlehem has to be a Christian - is furious at the international boycott of the Palestinian Authority (PA), which has been in place since the Islamic Hamas movement won the elections and took office in March, and refused demands to recognise Israel. “This is not a Hamas-led government, this is the Palestinian people’s government,” he states.

Khaled Jodeh, a member of the Bethlehem city council from the Hamas-affiliated Islamic list, echoes Batarsi’s statements.

“The West wants to punish Hamas, but they are punishing the whole Palestinian people. Bethlehem suffers in particular because of the wall putting our city under siege,” he says. Awad is optimistic things will pick up during the two days around Christmas. He is pessimistic they will last longer than that.

Referring to the upcoming Muslim Eid Al Adha feast, which falls in the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day, and is one of the two major Muslim holidays, Jodeh is more succint.

“Muslims and Christians here,” he says, “are both suffering.”

PRAGUE- Czechs have launched an ”Anti-Santa” campaign against the white-bearded usurper they fear is edging out the infant Jesus or “Jezisek”, the traditional bearer of seasonal gifts for centuries.

“I do not have any wish to see a fat man dragging a bag at Christmas. I want to retain my own vision of the infant Jesus,” said the founder of the campaign, Prague publicity agency manager, Petr Vlasak.

Together with around 20 colleagues, Vlasak launched the campaign aimed at drawing their countrymen’s attention to the fact that time-honoured Christmas caroles never evoked the belly-laughing old man dressed in a red robe and fur. The campaigners have launched an Internet site, www.anti-santa.cz, highlighting the worst examples of Santa Claus ”bad taste”, taken out an ad in a trade magazine and intend to offer offer an “anti-prize” for the most absurd Santa publicity. They have also distributed stickers displaying a crossed-out Santa Claus hat to shopkeepers who refuse to allow the “imposter” across their thresholds.

“I would stress, there is nothing anti-American about this...We just want to say that our tradition is Jezisek, nothing more, nothing less,” assuredVlasak. Though most in this country of 10 million cannot be described as practicing believers, as in neighboring Poland or Slovakia, the Christian heritage still holds fast in Czech Christmas customs.

Many Czechs, according to Vlasak, are unhappy at the proliferation of Father Christmas in publicity spots and in shop windows, or, even worse, his intrusion into Czech songs and tales. ”There have been surveys showing that Santa Claus rubs around 80 percent of Czechs up the wrong way,” he added.

The country in the past resisted another bearded seasonal invader from abroad, the originally Soviet - “Dieda Mraz” (Grandfather Frost).

This intruder arrived after the communists seized power in the post-World War II period as most of eastern European fell under Soviet influence. A Christmas speech by former president Antonin Zapotocky even paved the way for his arrival in 1952.

“Under capitalism, the infant Jesus reminded the poor that they belonged in the stables,” Zapotocky had said. “But a revolution has taken place, the infant Jesus has grown up, he has grown a beard and become “Dieda Mraz’.”

Czech children at the time were surprised to learn that their dolls, electric trains and toy cars were not put under the Christmas tree by a small child born in a manger in Bethlehem but by an old man from the east.

The faithful Czechs continued to prefer “Jezisek”, however, until the Velvet Revolution in 1989 that overthrew the communist regime but allowed Santa Claus to cross over into the newly opened frontiers.

Prague publicity agent David Konig initially had the idea of the ”anti-Santa” campaign.

“One day, my three-year-old daughter received for a Christmas present a picture book that portrayed an old man with a red robe as the infant Jesus,” he recalled indignantly.

“If we stand by and do nothing, this sort of thing will become commonplace within five years,” a fired-up Vlasak added. His only regret is that the campaign kicked off too late this year to have much effect