Christmas is almost upon us. ‘Tis the season for peace and goodwill, as well as for defensive battles in the unending War on Christmas.
Christians, conservatives, and normies repulsed by a joyless secularism still fight the good fight against those seeking to dilute or eliminate the presence of Christianity at the time when the birth of Christ is being marked.
In Ireland we see how this manifests itself in Dublin City Council’s reference to ‘Dublin Winter Lights’ and in Educate Together’s reluctance to mark the event at all.
The hostility of the secularists is palpable. Those who reject the Gospel cannot readily celebrate the birth of the Saviour who proclaimed it.
None of this is imaginary. In the United States, soft persecution in recent generations has involved removing nativity scenes from public areas on spurious legal grounds and deliberately replacing ‘Merry Christmas’ with ‘Happy Holidays.’
Truly bigoted figures have adopted a more forceful approach throughout history.
Oliver Cromwell’s ultra-Protestant regime banned Christmas celebrations and required shops to remain open, in order to eradicate any traces of Catholicism from English life. In the 1960s, Fidel Castro adopted a similar policy in Cuba, and for broadly similar reasons.
Religious believers and non-believing well-wishers should continue to fight the good fight against Winterval, Winter Lights and, shudder, Happy Holidays.
But there is a greater threat to Christmas which too often goes overlooked. There is no real danger that the word ‘Christmas’ will fall out of common usage, and there have been relatively few cases in Ireland of cribs being removed from public places here.
Secularism is not the greatest threat to Christmas, materialism is.
The consumerist culture which is so strong in Ireland does not seek to expunge Christmas. Instead, it works ceaselessly to smother it with blinding lights and tinsel. As with the Parable of the Sower, the Christian message is choked by what grows alongside it.
Advent is the Church’s preparation for Christmas, and this year the First Sunday of Advent was on November 30th.
Dublin city centre’s Christmas lights had been switched on a full 17 days before this, and many businesses jump the gun to an even more indecent degree.
Commercial gain being their primary motivation, this is unsurprising. As soon as Halloween is over, Christmas must begin, and with it, the orgy of shopping.
Ibec estimates that average household spending this Christmas will amount to €1,600. For many this is a minor imposition: a well-deserved opportunity for giving and receiving at the end of a year of hard work.
For others, particularly those of limited means, the commercialised Christmas is a time of torment.
While on the bus travelling through the south inner city recently, a man asked a young woman standing nearby whether she was looking forward to the big day.
“I hate it,” she sighed. “As soon as the presents are opened, it’s all over, and all you have are the boxes.”
Many must feel the same way. When most Irish people were believing Christians, Christmas was about religion and family.
In the more secular landscape of today, it can still be a joyous time for families to come together. Yet in a country plagued by marital and family breakdown, this too becomes more difficult.
What many are left with is nothing but presents, which too rapidly become the empty boxes which the disillusioned young lady spoke of.
There is nothing wrong with Christmas gifts; it was appropriate that the Three Kings brought lavish gifts with them from the east.
For children, much of the magic of Christmas relates to imagined thoughts of what could be under the wrapping paper, or what more Santy will bring when everyone has gone to bed.
But when the primary focus becomes material objects, something fundamental is lost.
The secular, commercialised version of Christmas is an empty affair, and it always was.
Unlike Ebenezer Scrooge, the woman on the Dublin Bus has probably never experienced material prosperity, but both have the same attitude. When there is nothing more to Christmas than what is under the tree, there is little point to taking part in the festivities.
The Church calendar no longer aligns with reality outside. Christmas starts too soon and ends too soon, rather than concluding as it should on the Feast of the Epiphany, which would be the logical and biblical time for presents to be given.
By that point though, many people are thoroughly sick of the secular Christmas, and who could blame them?
As Scrooge asks when declining his nephew’s invitation to Christmas dinner: “What’s Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, but not an hour richer…“
Ireland is in a worse position than most of its near neighbours when it comes to the materialistic degradation of what should be the most joyous day of every year.
Compared to Catholic countries on the continent, Ireland never developed as rich a culture of feasts and festivals – although it can be said that while under foreign rule, the country was not allowed to develop its own unique culture and traditions in the same way.
Desmond Fennell frequently contrasted supposedly Catholic Ireland with other European countries and found us wanting, including when it came to the celebration of Christmas in Italy, where he wrote of the “presepes (cribs) everywhere in Rome at Christmas; even in the Termini station, with music, and little shepherd’s fires burning.”
The damage done by colonialism and the English monarchy’s Reformation was never repaired in Ireland, even when the Church had the ability to repair itself in the post-Famine era. In short, we followed the English example in too many areas, and we still do. Instead of religious holidays, we have Bank Holidays. Instead of peaceful Sundays, we have shops open seven days a week. Commercial activity has too big a place in national life, and this has had a detrimental impact on the celebration of Christmas.
Instead of the European Christmas, we have imported large elements of the gaudy American equivalent, just like how the ridiculous ‘Black Friday’ sale quickly became part of Irish life and commerce.
And instead of intricately designed cribs like one sees in Italy or Spain, put together by communities working to create the most beautiful Nativity scene in their region, our cribs are often unimpressive afterthoughts, ignored by most passersby as they make their way to the nearest shopping centre.
Soon enough, we may start to hear demands for the pubs to be open on Christmas Day, just as they are in ‘Eastenders,’ where the residents of Walford drown their sorrows in the Queen Vic on what is routinely presented as the worst and most stressful day of the year.
Herein lies the greatest assault on what should be the most peaceful of days. Whether they are called Christmas lights or Winter lights is of little relevance.
The glare is still distracting, and it is only when those lights fade that we can see the star that points towards Bethlehem.