"The Waiting Bells......."

As Pat and I drove up to Hale Barnes near Altrincham at the weekend to visit our daughter and family our (or rather, my) Christmas began. This weekend, being the start of Advent, meant that I could again listen to some of my favourite  music with a Christmas connection. I don’t mean carols and other overtly Christmas stuff – that comes later, although I do notice that radio stations are  already playing them, and as I walked around the Victoria Shopping Centre in Nottingham the other day, most of the shops were wooing their shoppers with canned Christmas carols  and past Christmas number one pop songs, No, I mean music that may not have been written especially for specifically for Christmas but has become associated with it – and, equally important, is a joyous reminder of the Christmas message. As December and Advent begins I will dust down the Christmas music CDs and we will hear again listen to some of these great works. It is my little “tradition”.

Nottingham Market Square & Council House - Christmas 2012

So, as Advent dawned, and we hurtled to Hale Barnes through Derbyshire, Staffordshire & Cheshire on Saturday morning we listened to some of our favourite Christmas music – Handel’s Messiah, Telemann’s Festive Suite  Correlli’s Concerto Grosso Number 8 –The Christmas Concerto – fulfilling my Christmas “tradition”.

Christmas is, of course, a time for traditions – not only in the retelling of the Christmas story but also all the “trappings” of Christmas – turkey, Christmas stockings, Santa, reindeer ...........and a million other things that have somehow or other become entwined with the mid-winter festival. And, as December opens  Christmas seems, suddenly, just around the corner and I often think of the opening words to John Betjeman’s  poem “Christmas” – surely, not only one of the great poems, but a great meditation and philosophical contemplation on the Christian festival. A timely reminder of what is important at the Christmas season. I am constantly amazed that Betjeman’s poem, written in that quaint, slightly modest, understated language so typical of Betjeman still has the resonance that it has, even today, almost seventy years after it was  first published:

Christmas by John Betjeman

The bells of waiting Advent ring,
The Tortoise stove is lit again
And lamp-oil light across the night
Has caught the streaks of winter rain
In many a stained-glass window sheen
From Crimson Lake to Hookers Green.

The holly in the windy hedge
And round the Manor House the yew
Will soon be stripped to deck the ledge,
The altar, font and arch and pew,
So that the villagers can say
'The church looks nice' on Christmas Day.

Provincial Public Houses blaze,
Corporation tramcars clang,
On lighted tenements I gaze,
Where paper decorations hang,
And bunting in the red Town Hall
Says 'Merry Christmas to you all'.

And London shops on Christmas Eve
Are strung with silver bells and flowers
As hurrying clerks the City leave
To pigeon-haunted classic towers,
And marbled clouds go scudding by
The many-steepled London sky.

And girls in slacks remember Dad,
And oafish louts remember Mum,
And sleepless children's hearts are glad.
And Christmas-morning bells say 'Come!'
Even to shining ones who dwell
Safe in the Dorchester Hotel.

And is it true, And is it true,
This most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained-glass window's hue,
A Baby in an ox's stall ?
The Maker of the stars and sea
Become a Child on earth for me ?

And is it true ? For if it is,
No loving fingers tying strings
Around those tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things,
Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant,

No love that in a family dwells,
No carolling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this single Truth compare -
That God was man in Palestine
And lives today in Bread and Wine.

John Betjeman

Betjeman’s simple descriptions of the Christmas preparations: holly decorations in the Church, brightly lit shops, decorated streets, noisy public houses, family gifts, excited children, oafish louts remembering Mum, girls in slacks remembering Dad  and the rest – in fact, all the trappings of Christmas – are just as relevant today as when Betjeman wrote his poem. As we drove up to Altrincham on Saturday, and indeed this morning as I sit in my office looking out onto the street, Betjeman’s  “marbled clouds” do indeed “go scudding by” – he captures the essence  simply and exactly the early December weather. Last week Pat and went to the theatre in Nottingham. As we stood in the foyer waiting to take our seats we suddenly heard loud explosions from outside – at first we thought it was gunfire! – but then realised it was fireworks as the Christmas lights were switched on and the brightly lit trams rumbled by in Nottingham’s nearby Market Square and past the illuminated Council House. Betjeman’s words still ringing true in my city more than half a century after he wrote them:

And bunting in the red Town Hall
Says 'Merry Christmas to you all'

Tasteful?

I am not particularly religious but have long felt that if there be any “message” in the Christmas story it too often tends to get lost in the commercial frenzy that overtakes us as the festive season approaches. Certainly, as I get older, I become more convinced that Christmas has to be about something  more than parties, Christmas number 1 records, shopping frenzy, excesses of alcohol and food, inane gifts, Santa, reindeer, Christmas baubles and the like. Betjeman’s great poem seems to give it all a bit of perspective. Before we get carried away, Betjeman reminds us of the deeper Christmas message. These “trappings”, these Christmas “add ons” are suddenly contrasted with the coming of Christ and the great truths underpinning Christianity and Christmas.

No love that in a family dwells,
No carolling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this single Truth compare -
That God was man in Palestine
And lives today in Bread and Wine.

Not for me!

But, the reality is, of course, like everyone else, I  will be swept up in the Christmas festivities and traditions – the “tissued fripperies and sweet and silly Christmas things”. Already our spare bedroom is filled with gifts waiting to be wrapped up, a pile of Christmas cards lie on the side ready to be posted, Pat has been baking and popping various things in the freezer for weeks now, the Christmas pudding is made.....and so it goes on. And like most families, we have our own little traditions - we always tend to put the Christmas decorations up at the same time each year; as a family our Christmas  tends to follow the same format each year; we always try to attend one of the Christmas Carol Services in the Church where, to coin Betjeman’s words“.... villagers can say, ‘The Church looks nice' on Christmas Day.” 

That's a bit better!

And the beginning of Advent marks the start of it all.  The strange thing is that although, as I get older and grumpier, or more cynical and I think “It was better in my day” or “children get too many presents these days”; as I rail against huge great inflatable Santas filling front gardens and  millions of fairy lights tastelessly decorating ordinary houses,  the reality is that it is still part of the Christmas magic.  No matter how hard I try I can’t help but get just the teeniest bit excited in anticipation of what is to come. We are all frequently disappointed at Christmas – it can never fulfil our expectations – but year after year we come back for more. And maybe that that is part of its magic and its message.