It comes around once a year, but never surprises anyone. In societies high on the culture of consumer capitalism, most notably the United States (where I have observed it most closely), celebrating Christmas is a ritual that in effect starts with Halloween at the end of October, goes through the feasts of Thanksgiving a month later, and reaches its highpoint at midnight on 24 December. I am obliged in this toxic society to state, over and again, something that should be understood, at least by now: you can celebrate anything you wish, and speak to invisible people as much as you like — until it does harm to others…

So, Christmas eh? Christmas in New York City and the Upper Midwest of the US is special. It’s as if the god of the Christians got together and said: What should we do to make it extra special? A wise one rose and said: I know, let’s create New York City. Seriously, it’s as if that city and Christmas were made on the same day, by the same hands. Then again, Sarajevo in the snow (39 years ago) was as close as I have ever come to singing Glory Hallelujah. For what it’s worth, Good King Wenceslas, a carol written for the Feast of St Stephen, has a special place in my life — as does the year 1905. I decided early in adulthood to visit Prague to walk across Wenceslas Square even though the relationship between the king, the saints and the square is dead dodgy. 

Whenever people talk about Christianity under pressure and Western Civilisation facing extinction (I actually have views on those, but that’s for an inglorious discussion), I remind them that, almost without exception, every shopping mall in almost every Muslim-majority country deck their halls with boughs of holly. Individual Christians in Pakistan are persecuted, but Christianity…

Let’s not be silly; we live our lives based on calendars and celebrations that are products of Christian dominance of Europe and its radiation across the world. And, anyway, private industries and manufacturers and those good people who do god’s work will not allow us to change a thing about the status quo — unless it guarantees more profits, of course.

It’s about materialism and mass consumption

Let’s face it, Christmas has long ago moved on from celebrating the birth of Jesus of Nazareth. Ordinary Christians can barely agree among themselves. The actual Bible offers very few clues that lead anywhere where everyone can agree. Early Christian writers like Irenaeus (130-202) or Origen of Alexandria (185-254) thought the whole thing was a pagan stitch-up. But I am sure you are aware of all that, dear reader; to paraphrase a military fella, “It’s not about accuracy; it’s about celebration” (he said it was about destruction). Let me then make my more normal claims, statements and assertions to continue disrupting the complacency with which we paddle in pools of mediocrity. I don’t mean you, dear reader. 

Clever people have discussed the umbilical relationship that holds Christmas and consumerism together at great length. Discussions are about “the sacralisation of Christmas commerce”, and elision of “the sacred and the profane”. Most come out on the side of an insoluble contradiction, or a paradox, and just one of those things we have to live with — for both sides, those concerned with the birth of someone made of flesh and bone, and those of us who love shopping and decorating our homes. Except we have to be careful this year not to combine the colours green and red because, well, it’s just not all white.

I have always enjoyed Christmas. Even on those dreadful days where I was forced, in a manner of speaking, to attend mass at the Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod where the crucifix has pride of place beside the Star-Spangled Banner, which, read in its entirety and placed in its proper historical context, was both a celebration of slavery and of settler colonial (European) triumph over the British, who wanted a fair share of the slaves. It’s a bit like the British crown and the Afrikaners fighting, before 1948, over who knows best how to “handle” the indigenous people. 

Christmas in New York City allows you to forget about homelessness, hunger and poverty. With those blindspots in place, you can enjoy time with family and friends, eat and drink yourself into a coma, and make like Mr Creosote.

Grin and bear it if you can

I am with Jim Al-Khalili, though. To Al-Khalili, “It means making my annual batch of coffee fudge (now perfected), and it means admiring the Christmas tree that my wife is always in charge of, while calming her down when the tree lights inevitably don’t work once they have been draped round the tree when she swears they were fine when she tested them earlier. It means, above all, coordinating family get-togethers with my adult children and their partners, and with my siblings and their families. It means buying far too much food, most of which is hugely unhealthy but excused because oh, well, it is Christmas… Despite my children now having grown up and flown the nest, there is still something magical about Christmas morning — bacon rolls for breakfast, opening presents and waiting for people to arrive. Always an ample supply of mulled wine and mince pies, of course.”

When he was asked whether he, as a humanist, could celebrate Christmas and remain true to his beliefs, Al-Khalili replied:

“I have never really understood this question. I grew up in Iraq, to a Christian mother and Muslim father. We celebrated Eid and Christmas. So, for me, there was no religious connotations to either. Christmas for me was associated with the new year, the school half-year holidays and presents. Yes, we always had a tree and I’d even play carols on the piano, but that was all part of the cultural fun… [Anyway] I don’t tend to know many people silly enough to think that Christmas was invented to celebrate the birth of Jesus.”

Fortunately or unfortunately, I will do none of the above on Christmas Day. Besides having to prepare next week’s column, I have a lot of planning to do for 2024.

Thanks for your weekly comments. My favourite one of the year was a response to my not including the “Wagner Group” in a list of two mercenary groups I used as an example, and because of that omission I was called a “30%”. Charming fellow. Commentators are what make online publishing exciting.

Merry Christmas. Catch you next week in my last column of 2023. DM