The Season of Good Sales: “What does it
matter?”, sneer the atheists and secularists. “The whole silly story never
happened.” It matters because the still-cherished principles of secular
humanism may be traced all the way back to the Roman Empire of 2,000 years ago,
when ordinary human-beings gathered to hear and repeat the words of a
carpenter’s son. It
matters, also, because, to paraphrase Robert Harris, writing in his latest,
terrifying, novel The Second Sleep: when morality loses its power, power
loses its morality.
WHAT HAVE WE just celebrated? Christmas? A holy festival? Or
a bacchanalian celebration of conspicuous consumption designed, built and
delivered to a palace or a hovel near you by Global Capitalism PLC? I think we
all know the answer to that. What hurts the most is that we fall for it every
single year. Proof, if proof is required, that Pavlov’s dogs weren’t the only
animals conditioned to salivate whenever the jingle-bell rings.
Consider the fact that Christmas is celebrated in just about
every mall on the face of the planet. They’re doing it in Shanghai, Tokyo,
Singapore and Bangkok. The only part of the world where you might struggle
(and, quite possibly, incur some risk) to find Christmas displays and
commercial enticements is in the Muslim world.
Now, why is that? The answer is simple. Because Muslims
still believe. Islam remains a living and, for the most part, uncorrupted
faith. It is still illegal in Muslim countries to practice “usury” – lending
out money at interest.
The same was once true of Christendom. Indeed, one could
argue that the forward march of capitalism was only finally secured in the
British Isles in 1854 with the passage of “An Act To Repeal The Laws Relating
To Usury”. The commercial imperative has long since laid low the ancient claims
of religion in the Christian West. In the Muslim world, however, the good fight
against Mammon goes on.
It would be an interesting exercise to quiz a thousand young
people chosen at random from the countries where neoliberal capitalism reigns
joyful and triumphant, and ask them to locate the events of Christ’s birth in
the broader New Testament narrative.
Would a majority still be able to accurately re-tell the
story? Mary’s pregnancy; the journey of Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem; the birth
of the infant Jesus in a stable; the shepherds in the fields; the Angelic
Host’s proclamation of peace and goodwill toward men; the journey and arrival
of the Magi; King Herod’s massacre of the innocents; Mary, Joseph and the
infant Jesus’ flight into Egypt. How many would attempt to place Santa Claus
somewhere in the Christmas Story? It’s probably best not to know!
Astonishingly, not even our senior Christian clerics seem to
be able to tell the Christmas story correctly. In the NZ Herald of
Saturday 21 December 2019, one of them wrote (on behalf of all the major
denominations) that: “Jesus, God’s son, was born amongst the animals. He grew
up in a family that experienced poverty. He spent the first years of his life
as a refugee, eventually fleeing for his life from a wicked dictatorship.”
Ummm. No. He didn’t. Joseph was a carpenter and, like
blacksmiths, carpenters in the ancient world were not to be counted among the
poor. Jesus had a comfortable upbringing. Nor did the Christ spend the first
years of his life as a refugee. Yes, the New Testament has him fleeing to
Egypt, but his return to Galilee was not long delayed on account of King Herod’s
sudden and mysterious demise. So, quite where this “eventually fleeing for his
life from a wicked dictatorship” comes from is anybody’s guess. The Gospel
According to Golriz Ghahraman perhaps?
“What does it matter?”, sneer the atheists and secularists.
“The whole silly story never happened. The gospels were thrown together several
decades after the alleged birth, life and death of Jesus of Nazareth – if such
a person can truthfully be said to have existed at all!”
It matters because the still-cherished principles of secular
humanism, which continue to inspire the multitude of moral arbiters who police
social media, come with provenance papers tracing them all the way back to a
peculiar collection of Jews and Gentiles living and writing in the Roman Empire
of 2,000 years ago. Ordinary human-beings who gathered to hear and repeat the
words of a carpenter’s son: the Galilean rabbi, Yeshua Ben-Joseph. Words that still
constitute the core of the what remains the world’s largest religious faith – Christianity.
It matters, also, because, to paraphrase Robert Harris,
writing in his latest, terrifying, novel The Second Sleep: when morality
loses its power, power loses its morality.
Meaning that, with every passing Christmas, the stuff we’re
conditioned to buy will amount to less: and the Carpenter’s story we no longer
remember will count for so much more.
This essay was originally published in The Otago Daily
Times and The Greymouth Star of Friday, 27 December 2019.
