Christmas vs Christ Mass
It is an extraordinary thing that to celebrate the birth of a God that most people don't believe in, we put ourselves through this ordeal, writes Michael Jensen.
In contemporary Australia, Christmas has really become two festivals, not one. The celebration of our excessive consumption and of our yearning for connection with other people is a faint echo of the original meaning of Christmas - which was a declaration of deep peace, and the announcement of a divine gift.
At least George Costanza's dad in Seinfeld was honest when he called for a festival to be named "Festivus – the festival for the rest of us".
This observation is, though, decades old. It appears in a short satirical piece by the great English apologist and author C.S. Lewis (d 1963) which was first published in 1970 but written years before. In it, he pretends to have found a lost chapter from the Greek historian Herodotus.
He describes a visit to an island called Niatirb ("Britain" backwards) in which the inhabitants celebrate a great festival called "Exmas". This is a festival that lasts for 50 days, and in which there is a great to-do about the sharing of square pieces of paper called "Exmas-cards". The citizens exchange these cards but fear most of all that they might receive a card from someone to whom they did not send one.
The same is true of gifts. You have to guess the value of the gift that you will be given, so you can send one of equal value. And of course "the sellers, understanding the custom, put forth all kinds of trumpery, and whatever, being useless and ridiculous, they have been unable to sell throughout the year they now sell as an Exmas gift".
Preparation for this festival - the "Rush" - produces such exhaustion in the inhabitants of Niatirb that they sleep in till noon on the day itself. But then, "crowning themselves with crowns of paper, they become intoxicated".
So much for Exmas. But there's another festival, called "Crissmas". It is kept on the same day as Exmas, which is of course confusing. But those who celebrate it "rise early on that day with shining faces and go …to certain temples". Talking to a priest at one of these temples Lewis's narrator hears him say:
Sadly, this is still true. The secular Christmas has become a wish for peace, but the reality is that peace is not what many people experience at this time of year. Domestic violence incidents typically spike over the period. Is it any wonder? Could we put any more pressure on ourselves? We talk of "peace" as if it is merely about ending wars, and not a condition we as individuals need to experience in our own lives. Christmas can also intensify mental health difficulties. While the myth that general suicide rates peak between Christmas and New Year appears to be thoroughly busted, researchers are claiming that suicide rates for young men do indeed climb at this time of year.
Where's the merriment?
It is an extraordinary thing, don't you think, that to celebrate the birth of a God that most people don't believe in, we put ourselves through the ordeal of the Exmas Rush. We devote ourselves to the passing around of "tissued fripperies", as John Betjeman put it:
Why not rather set aside time to find something truly sacred this year? Why not be done with "Exmas" for good? Why not cut your way through the thickets of gaudy to one of the temples in which "Crissmas" is still celebrated, and find there, gazing on the still, quiet scene of the baby born in a manger, the peace that passes all understanding?
Dr Michael Jensen is the rector at St Mark's Anglican Church, Darling Point, NSW.
