I met up with Andrew today for a coffee and chat. We were meeting on Wednesday but he had a sudden job. He told his ‘sudden job’ that he was supposed to be having coffee with me. His ‘sudden job’ said to apologise to me. Profusely.
Anyone who knows me well, knows how much I dislike religion. All religions (except pixie worship, of course). However, I think Andrew surpasses me on that front.
Possibly more than religion generally, he hates Christmas. He hates the forced family inducements, the commercial nonsense, the everything. He actively avoids anything to do with Christmas.
He told me about one Christmas day when he decided to volunteer at a local hospice. He was the designated tea and coffee boy, delivering jolly chat and drinks on his trolley on Christmas Day. He loved it.
There was one old, very miserable chap called Jeffrey, who barely acknowledged his presence. Eventually however, Andrew wore him down and, by the end of Christmas Day, he was sitting on Jeffrey’s bed, holding his hand and listening to stories of his youth in East London.
Andrew popped in to see Jeffrey every day, after work, just to sit and listen.
Then, on New Years Day, Andrew turned up a little late, missing the cut off for visitor’s time. Sadly, he went home. Even sadder, Jeffrey died that night.
When Jeffrey’s family found out about Andrew’s festive kindness, they called him and thanked him; invited him to the funeral. He gladly attended.
After telling me this story, I sarcastically suggested that Jesus would have said it was a very Christian thing he did. Andrew shook his head and suggested it proved you didn’t need to believe in God to be kind. How very true, I said.
I also straightened him out on the origins of Christmas and how the early church maintained that Jesus was born in early December but, given they didn’t want to cause a second public holiday, they decided to use the old Roman Sol Invictus festival day, the 25th*. (Ironically, Sol Invictus celebrated the birth of the sun rather than the birth of anyone’s son.)
So, Jesus and God had nothing to do with Christmas, I assured Andrew. I think that cheered him up. Maybe he’ll worship the sun from now on.
And, here’s something else that God and Jesus had nothing to do with.
And, just in passing, while I was waiting for Andrew, a masked woman approached the counter and asked Bridgette for what sounded like a Covid nut latte. When Bridgette queried the order, asking what a Covid nut latte actually was, the masked woman lowered her mask and enunciated beautifully that she actually wanted a coconut latte.
* In all fairness, I should point out that this is debated by historians. Still, I thought it worked really well with the ‘sun’ ‘son’ thing, so I’m not taking it back!
