There's something about Christmas
If there's a reason for its existence, it's down to each and every one of us
The entire final quarter of the year snowballs towards the 25th of December with the unstoppable momentum of an avalanche on a skateboard. Even by November, the excitement runs at fever pitch levels. In fact, there is a spike in A&E admissions that coincides with the first screening of the Coca Cola advert. Even after seeing it for so many years previously, I had to have a lie down with a stiff drink afterwards.
There are so many things that make Christmas… Christmas. Mince pies and mulled wine, carol singing, Christmas shopping and all the events that follow: all little quirks and traditions that make this time of the year so special, so magical.
Except they don’t. A mince pie is nothing more than pastry, fruit and brandy. Carols are just songs and hymns that no one lets you sing at any other time of the year – much like anything by ABBA really. The only difference between braving the heaving masses at this time of the year compared to any other is that we have a strangely increased tolerance for it. There is nothing special about any of these things. There is no magic to Christmas. It is all utterly meaningless. Much like the sum of all human experience. Ugh, how grim. I feel like I’m in a Frank Capra movie.
If there’s anything special about Christmas, it’s people. Oh, I know there are people all year round – in London I can’t seem to escape them. But the way people act at Christmas is interesting to say the least. In this wintry season, the evidence is greatest that we are living in a cold and, at best, uncaring Universe. Yet, instead of rallying against the darkness, we sing carols to it.
We take random chemical signals from a world malevolent to our existence and somehow try to make sense of things. The revolution of the Earth around the Sun is a thing of beauty. Watching some overgrown boys kick a ball about sweeps people away on the wings of passion. Despite having no reason for it, I am rather keen to preserve my life and deprive that leopard outside my window of his next meal.
The fact that we can enjoy life despite its meaningless makes us rather curious creatures. It is us who say that mince pies and mulled wine are special and can only be consumed at this time of year. It is us that enjoy carols. It is us who, if not enjoy, then suffer through Christmas shopping so we can bring joy to the people in our lives who we have decided are so important to us.
There is absolutely nothing magical about Christmas, except the magic that we decide it has. The fact that there is a time of the year that we have set aside to come together and share our silly traditions is a little bit special.
I think people get fooled by Christmas. They think that Christmas is all about gorging yourself on turkey and other middle eastern states/fowl, ice-skating at the Natural History Museum and sledding down the hill on the first snow of the season. These all mean nothing. They think that is where the magic is but it is just a ruse for people to get together: to share close communion and fellowship. That is where the real magic is.
There’s something about Christmas, isn’t there? Somehow in the coldest of weathers, we can share with one another the warmest of hearts.
Merry Christmas, one and all!
