Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas. Peace on earth and goodwill to
all men. ‘Tis the season to be jolly. Fa la la la la, fa la la la. You know, I
was just thinking as much as I struggled to get out of various queues in
various shops the other day. Christmas means different things to different people; to me,
‘tis the season to over-indulge; the season to be acquisitive; the season to be
sad, lonely and suicidal. What about those lucky enough to have family and
friends?
Men and women of all religions and none give gifts to those
they care about, and sometime those they don’t care about. Men and women of all
religions and none receive gifts in the spirit in which they were given, then
try to find some way to use them to impress the gift giver or find some place to
hide them away until they are forgotten by the gift giver. Families get into
debt to buy the latest doll or computer games console or fashion item. They
erect ridiculously large trees and adorn their houses and gardens with enough
lights and illuminated Santa Clauses on ladders to power a medium-sized town
for a year (probably). They must keep up with the Joneses, and their kids must
not be embarrassed in the company of friends and school chums. I know how that
feels, but is that what Christmas is all about?
Men and women of various Christian denominations observe it
as their religion dictates. There’s usually some altercation in or around one
of the ‘holy’ sites in Jerusalem; remember when the Israelis weren’t going to let
Yasser Arafat go to some service or other? Today, or more accurately,
yesterday, the Roman Catholic Archbishop of Westminster (England’s most senior
Catholic, not the UK’s most senior) Archbishop Vincent Nichols, one presumes a
single, unattached, celibate man, chose Christmas as a time to attack plans for
‘gay marriage’. Peace on earth and goodwill to all men (i.e. mankind)? I’m not
gay (or owt; still remembering Mark and Lard at Christmas, eh?), but if
marriage is such a wonderful institution, why doesn’t the Roman Catholic Church
allow its predatory priests to marry? It would keep a lot of them out of
trouble. Every year, someone (an evangelical Christian) sends me a Christmas
card that I never open. A little label on the envelope reads ‘Jesus is the
reason for the season’. If there really was a God, I’m sure that, in his
omnipotence, he’d have ensured that his ‘son’ was named ‘Jeason’, for the sake
of alliteration. If Jesus IS the reason for the season, this season of goodwill
to all mankind, then perhaps his followers could exhibit some of that goodwill?
Nah, not bloody likely.
So, what have I got planned for the day? I will eat some
turkey and trimmings (and everything else), I will drink all the wine in the
house (sadly, only one bottle) and I will watch Doctor Who, then I’ll rest
before going into town for the sales tomorrow morning. That’s been a normal
Christmas day for me for the last few years No presents. No people I care
about. No Christmas joy. Later today, I’ll raise a glass to absent friends,
though if they were real friends, they’d not be absent. Yes, that’s what
Christmas is all about; one massive reality check and the shattering of all illusions.
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