Christmas looks so different these days from what it was when I was growing up. It is so different it is almost unrecognizable. In this same country, in the 70s, Christmas was a season of celebration, but also of spiritual upliftment, joy abundant, hope, reaffirmation of faith in the certainty of Salvation, and the ritual of that which begins, and that which ends, as a New Year beckoned.
We were brought up on a steady diet of Sunday School lessons, and so Christmas and Easter were very much a part of our growing up. We always looked forward to Christmas with excitement. It was that time of the year when we all wanted to act one role or the other in the re-enactment of the drama of Nativity.
The preparation for this drama, which was usually staged during Christmas service, to the sound of melodious songs and priestly excitement, was the high point on Christmas Day of the celebration of Christ The Lord. Weeks earlier, the church organized Christmas Carols. If you made the special choir, you felt as if you had won a lottery. Everyone was a songster of sorts, belting out Christmas Carols in both English and the local language. Parents singing. Children singing. Everyone dancing. The feel-good mood was so intense. You could run into people on the streets and the standard greeting, be they Muslims or Christians, was “Merry Christmas!” The official church Carol team went from one church member’s home to another to deliver the good tidings of the season and to announce the coming birth of the Saviour. Christmas strengthened our sense of community, and our Christianity and faith as well.
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