Ill let you in on a little secret I dont like buying Christmas presents. (Okay, its not a secret to regular readers. But Im talking now to those who dont read this column)
In fact, I hate the whole Christmas spending thing. Christmas has become institutionalised profit-making for companies that sack their employees when they make a profit and pay millions to their CEO when they go broke. These guys are laughing all the way to the bank at Christmas while were crying all the way to the dole office for a loan.
Christmas is about selling stuff to people who cant really afford it, backed by the new social morality that says if you dont add to shareholders income then youre some kind of evil, selfish, un-American pig-monster. And youre not a good parent. And you probably dance with your eyes shut
I resent having to rush out and buy a battery-operated night boule set for people who, in relative world terms, have everything. (Like outside lights for their grassed entertainment area.)
Christmas is like going to the dentist: you have to do it but its neither enjoyable nor to be trusted. (Im not saying that dentists cant be trusted, but really, its hard to trust a group of people advocating adding a toxin like fluoride to your drinking water.)
Christmas consumerism has become a morality.
If you dont support the department stores and the multinationals that put so much love, greenhouse emissions and cheap foreign labour into that electric foot bath, it obviously shows that you dont love Jesus. (Who died that we may bomb children in his name [Paul to the Cruskits 6:12], overheat the world he gave us to look after [Corinthians 13:45] and honour him with Roadrunner steering wheel covers [Leviticus 6:23] made in China by people who celebrate their day off with pork fat and chicken soup [Homer: series 4, episode 8].)
Christmas is the rebellious Jewish boys birthday. We know how He felt about the money-lenders. (Get rid of the buggers.) I wonder how He feels about the planetary damage caused by unchecked consumption in His name. Is this why a logged tree is a symbol of His birthing?
(We know His old man put a lot of time seven days including His rostered day off into getting this planet just right.)
So, forget the all-weather Santa that sings Jingle Bells while its pants fall down; forget the meaningless rituals from insecure men in dresses; and, in the spirit of Christ, give to the needy.
Give your Chrissy money to a charity like the local soup kitchen so that when someone with new slippers in the shape of Rudolph the drunken reindeer asks what you did for Christmas you can say, This dude was hungry, and I fed him. He was thirsty, and I gave him a cup of tea. He was sick, and I gave him a Panadol and a bucket.
Because whatever you do to him you do to Jesus. (Matthew 25:31-40)