The spirit of Christmases past
Those of you who will have grown up in a Westernized society will inevitably think of Charles Dickens and his Christmas Carol, – or the Muppets’ take on it, I don’t know. You’ll most likely picture Santa Claus who supposedly lives on the North Pole or in the Finnish wilderness somewhere; and he must be fat, because who would trust a skinny Santa? I never understood why he is said to live on the North Pole by the way. Maybe you think of a more northern European version of Saint Nicholas (who actually was a native of Asia Minor but never mind) dressed in a bishop’s robe or, at this time of the year you are more focused on the New Year and your Santa is basically the Eastern version, Deda Mraz. When you think of advent and Christmas time, German Christmas markets come to mind: Christstollen, Lebkuchen, Spekulatius and, of course, Glühwein.
This time of year, there’ll be opulent Christmas trees with shiny decorations all around the world (my favourite version of those were in the Malls of Hong Kong) and the humbler versions that are traditional in Austria for example, skinny trees, sparingly decorated with straw ornaments and baubles in red and gold.
But the advent I want to talk to you about today is different. It has to do with Jesus and the Holy Land.
Not too many years ago, when I used to live in the holy city, I got to experience advent in a very different kind of way and it was very special to me in its own right, because it was so unlike everything I knew thus far. Decorations were amazing (in my opinion) and absolutely over the top.
The Christian quarter of the old city of Jerusalem was shining bright, and so were the churches and Christian institutions, restaurants and cafés. But what I loved most about Christmas time in Jerusalem (apart from the weather, of course) was the fact that you weren’t overloaded with Christmas sweets and chocolates and kitschy songs since September that made you wonder what Christmas is actually about.
It does not mean that I don’t also love the shiny trees in Hong Kong, Christmas markets in Germany, or light installations in London; I do. But what I am trying to share is a more spiritual outlook on Christmas, I guess. European Christmas traditions are beautiful. No doubt about that. But for me, they are more about making a particularly dark and, meteorologically speaking, horrible time of the year special, joyful and kinder on the soul. They are less about Christmas in my book.
I was fortunate enough to also visit Bethlehem and the shepherds’ fields in Beit Sahur. Small, hilly, difficult to navigate, and far removed from the vision of the manger I had crafted in my head as a child listening to the priest reading the gospel during Christmas mass.
The church of the nativity is beautiful, but so unpretentious when compared with the overladen churches of the West. It was all so different, but somehow, I needed to see this to understand.
Nothing was shiny and little was golden, and there weren’t any Lebkuchen around, of course. And I thought to myself in my simple mind: but isn’t it just that? Mary and Joseph having a hard time in the chaos of this city?
Look, I am not here to give a sermon or go all religious on you, but the little thought I’d like to share with you this advent is that it doesn’t need to be perfect. Whether you are not so gifted when it comes to decorating your house (like myself) or have it all figured out since mid-November; whether the tree you are going to buy will only arrive on 24th December, as it used to be traditional in Germany, or whether it’s a plastic one you just got out of a box. It doesn’t matter.
No matter where you are and no matter what it is you are struggling with, Christmas will come and it will be magnificent, because love and hope and light prevail. Always. You just have to look for it and let it do its magic.
The comfy traveller's diaries 