Christmas in crisis

 First published in Column 8 on the 18 December 1991

 Over the last few months I’ve been reading Charles Dickens’ novel, Great Expectations, for the second or third time. I’ve read it with enjoyment except for one thing: this version was abridged ‘for modern readers,’ and contained nothing but the main story.

All those marvellous characters and incidents that actually contribute nothing to the plot, but are there because Dickens couldn’t resist putting them in, were chopped out.

The editor hadn’t added any of her own words, but had made the decisions for us as to which sections were of lesser importance. Of course these inessential parts are a distraction from the main story – it can really get on perfectly well without them.

But when we’re reading the book as Dickens wrote it we find the superfluous bits greatly entertaining, even though the thrust of the story is often obscured for quite some time.

In fact, these extras can be so absorbing that the main story seems to intrude on our interest.

Christmas time is a bit like Dickens’ novel. We get so engrossed in all the extras that we forget the reason for celebrating.

We have reprints of sentimental editorials about Santa and the magic of Christmas. I, too, love the magic of Christmas.

We have retailing gone mad. Don’t misunderstand me – there’s nothing wrong with retailing and nothing wrong with the boost that Christmas gives.

We have celebrations, and make excuses for the biggest spend-ups and booze-ups in the year.

But none of these are the reason for Christmas.

The real story of Christmas is always about a child, and usually we see him surrounded by straw-filled mangers, and shepherds in their dads’ dressing gowns, and wise men with the glitter falling off their crowns, and angels in sewn-up sheets. But the story doesn’t end there.

I’ve spent many Christmases watching or being involved in one version or another of the birth part of the story, but few of these versions remind us that this child later died an ignominious death, or that he rose to life again. The church I went to last Sunday did remind us, and should be congratulated for it.

When babies are born it’s normally a time for celebration, and as they grow older, for birthday remembering, but only one baby has ever been born who grew up to be the person who could make a permanent difference to our lives.

It’s hard to explain why he’s so important, because so many people in our present society no longer want to hear.

However, the time of crisis we’re living in is forcing us as a nation to look again at what we’ve had and what we’ve lost. And I don’t just mean material things.

It isn’t just a matter of saying that at Christmas we should be remembering those who are worse off than us. We should be doing that throughout the year.

The truth of the matter is that many people in this country are worse off than they think – and they aren’t necessarily the people on benefits, or low wages. A person’s financial status counts for far less than his spiritual status, and a big number of people in New Zealand are in a far worse state spiritually than they are materially.

There was a catch-phrase a few years ago: Put Christ Back into Christmas. New Zealanders need to do more than that – they need to put Christ back into their lives.

 

Nativity scene in the St Viktor Church, Dülmen,
North Rhine-Westphalia, Germany (2018)
Courtesy: Dietmar Rabich