‘Can we have something jolly outside the door this year?’ (asked my wife). Apparently, she’s always wanted a reindeer, a star or another illuminated object. I’ve always thought it would be questionable outside a Vicarage, and for the last 10 years we’ve lived on an isolated cul-de-sac passed by few but the postman. Now, however, we’re on a housing estate , surrounded by lots of other houses with such things, so who knows?
This morning I went into (my recently adopted home) town on the bike. It was cold, so cold that, for the first time in years it made my face ache. But I loved it! There was hot coffee and stalls outside Morrisons selling the modern equivalents of Betjeman’s
tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things,
Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant. (J Betjeman Christmas)
The High St, normally as dead as a dodo, felt bustling, and the queue at the bakery was long enough to take in both Chris Rea’s ‘Driving home for Christmas’ (streamed 450 million times on Spotify) and Paul McCartney’s ‘Simply having a wonderful Christmas time’ (426 m) on the PA. The latter has irritated the pants off me in previous Christmases. First, it’s awful. Secondly, as a parish priest, the time was not always wonderful. I used to dread the whole Christmas thing (there- I’ve said it) not just because ‘it’s your busy time Vicar’ for In truth Lent to Easter was often busier. The difficult thing about Christmas, for me, was precisely that it wasn’t simple. It was multifaceted and complicated.
There was the round of carol services and school services where you might be asked for a thought (not too religious). There were services in Old People’s Homes (5 in my first incumbency) where you were expected to be jolly while half your congregation was asleep. There was carol singing in pubs, carol singing in the town centre (an ecumenical matter) and the Crib Service. Then there were the (ever reducing) faithful who rightly expected on Christmas Eve a meaningful thought on the ‘and is it true?’ bit of Betjeman’s poem, – that is the Incarnation and Virgin Birth -and some beautiful music when half the choir had gone to their families. There were the funerals (not a problem today) because December, not April is the cruellest month. All these contacts led to the inevitable Christmas cold, which was usually delivered on time for 3pm Christmas Eve. (Except in 2020 when we had a different Virus on our minds!)
In addition, in my earlier years, there was the family Christmas, being Dad and latterly Grandad, playing a (woefully small) part in getting in the food and presents and trying to stay awake after being up till 1.30am. In addition there was my wife’s nursing shifts to fit in.There were a few Christmases I remember getting through on a mixture of gin, ‘A Wonderful Life’ and Bob Dylan’s cracked, frightful yet somehow glorious ‘Christmas in the Heart’. The tracks: ‘Have yourself a merry little Christmas’ and ‘the Christmas blues’ gave particular maudlin solace. I’m feeling tight in the stomach just thinking about these times as I write.
So the last thing I could relate to were the things Bing Crosby meant by ‘looking a lot like Christmas.’ That is to say, High St jollity, ho-ho-ho, mulled wine, Santa and the rest. Yet, as I stood in the queue at the baker’s and watched the very small shop assistant try to reach over to the front of the counter to pick up a Christmas muffin with her tongs, (‘You need a small crane for that!’ I quipped) I even felt well disposed towards Macca’s sleighbells. It seemed to be all very ‘Christmassy’ and, dare I say it, rather simple.
For this year Christmas will be very different. I am actually not allowed to take services. I have no parish, which makes me sad, but not at this time of year. The things in the diary are an online Advent retreat, grandson Timmy’s Primary School show, granddaughter Mary’s Carol Concert, a visit to the in-laws, the Cathedral Carol Service and Midnight Mass- wherever it can be found- Christmas lunch with my son and wife and a trip to our daughter’s and the grandkids. Well that’s the plan, at least.
Yes, and maybe lighting up the reindeer. Happy Christmas.
Hugh's Views 