Theologically and politically, there is a lot for me to love about Christmas… God, feeling disconnected from humanity, ponders and hits on the perfect solution – to turn up as a baby. Who can’t help but smile when they see a cute little face and hear those soft gurgles? And what an opportunity to show that wealth and a celeb culture are insignificant, if God opts for a poor family, an unmarried refugee mum.
Musically I love Christmas too – the old chart hits that bring back happy childhood memories; the new variations of some gorgeous carols; and some spine tingling choral pieces. Yum.
But… Like a lot of people, I feel an enormous amount of pressure to conform to commercialized expectations. I ought to enjoy the social aspect of Christmas – I love to connect with and appreciate people. But when that becomes equated with giving some kind of gift to represent how I feel about them, I just go to pieces. Why on earth would I want to spend my time in shops piled high with stuff none of us need, looking for that elusive present that will allegedly bring joy to the recipient? I know I sound grumpy, and that’s cos I am! It brings no joy to me, that pressure, because I simply don’t believe the myth that things bring us happiness. Yet I still feel bound by the convention that dictates I _have_ to give people things. Even if I’ve lovingly hand-crafted it myself; even if it’s an “ethical” gift, it still seems contrived.
There are lots of wonderful people in my life whom I love dearly. Surely I don’t have to present them with a present just to prove that? I’m off to re-read Doing December Differently by Nicola Slee and Rosie Miles and hopefully I can rediscover my Christmas joy…