After the Yule is Over

At around the same time I was commenting on Tim Minchin, the Thirsty Gargoyle had a few words to say on the matter. The Gargoyle's post mostly focusses on the way Minchin complains about being dropped from the Ross show, and effectively takes a pragmatic capitalist view to it - ITV being a commercial channel the last thing they want to do is offend all those well-educated, affluent, middle-class Christian consumers. Tim Minchin is wingin', in effect. I personally feel that the problem with the song is that, possibly as a result of being written to order, it was a bit stretched. The Woody Allen idea was quite sweet, the idea that Tim Minchin himself was Jesus (beard and long hair, you see) was mildly funny, if kind-of-heretical - after all, the point of the Incarnation is that Jesus took on the nature of all of us, not just of Tim Minchin.  While the other stuff was pointless trying-to-be-funny/shocking.

But I would also recommend you to read Thrsty Gargoyle's response to a troll who tries to claim in the comments that Christians stole Christmas by simply renaming it. It is one of the most witty responses to a troll I have read in a long time, and a neat but of debunking.

It's pretty clear that Christmas wasn't "stolen", "renamed" or "co-opted" from anything. Pretty well any time of the year that Christmas was going to be celebrated, it would coincide with some non-Christian festival or another. After all, religions have festivals all the time and there are lots of festivals.

But.

As I have noted in this journal before, there is one culture that does seem to have celebrated the Winter Solstice, and these were the culture that built one of the phases of Stonehenge - orienting that venerable temple onto the axis of the summer sunrise and the winter sunset. They have left no writing, and we do not have their language or the name they called themselves. So we call them Beaker Folk after their pottery. And we of the Beaker Folk of Husborne Crawley, not having the original word for the winter solstice, have chosen to use the word "Yule", because we may as well. Can we not imagine - as Stukeley might if he had not erroneously thought Stonehenge to be Celtic - can we not imagine that when the last light of the winter sun had sunk behind the Wessex horizon, sinking away to where the ancestors lived out their shrivelled, attenuated half-life existences (Somerset), that the ancient Beaker People may well have celebrated the promises of longer days ahead by lighting tea lights and drinking a mixed drink with a strong hint of vanilla?

Well, that's what we plan to do. Freed from the constraints under which other Christians (or at least the ones with liturgical responsibilities) have to keep themselves sober for Midnight Mass, and then risk sleep deprivation by getting up for the Mass of the Dawn, we can kick off our Crocs and Uggs, relax, and drink deeply of Hnaef's traditional Beaker Punch. A happy Christmas to all our pilgrims from around the world, and may all your hi-vizes be white.

Sustainable Wicker Person

Please can Beaker folk note that this year's Winter Solstice will be at half past five on Thursday morning.

This means that the Act of Darkness Fear will be held at sunset on Wednesday in the orchard, followed by the Liturgy of Fear 'n' Trembling in the Moot House. Hi Viz will be Green as befits the solemnity of the season.

I know that it's the Liturgical Shortest Night on Wednesday but please don't use that as an excuse for staying up all night celebrating. The people that did that last year could barely hold their tea lights in the morning.

Thursday morning, hi viz will be Yellow, the colour of the Sun and Coldplay. If we're very lucky the bonfire will burn all night, but if it doesn't don't worry. I'm hoping the new environmentally-friendly Wicker Person will be arriving tomorrow morning. Through new technology, it's illuminated throughout by LEDs and controlled by a computer console. So the good news is that, in future, we can burn a Wicker Person whenever we like, without needing to do all that wicker-gathering and construction in advance.

Not Giving Thanks

No, we're not holding a Beaker Thanksgiving "out of solidarity with our American chums".

In the first place it always worries me that a British celebration of Thanksgiving might give the impression that we're celebrating out of relief. A bit like when Brad left my old company, Amalgamated British Safety. The farewell drinks party was in full swing when Brad popped back to pick up his safety boots. Very embarrassing.

We especially don't want to upset Americans as increasingly they're our only source of foreign currency. With the European economies facing reality it's only the Americans who, Wile E. Coyote-like, are a thousand feet above thin air and still running like they're on solid ground. If the American Beaker market dries up I'll have to make more economies. And that means three fewer hours of hot water each week. And that would involve inventing the concept of negative hours of hot water.

No, we won't hold a Beaker Thanksgiving because everyone would treat it as an early taste of Xmas. There's a time to eat tasteless, dry poultry and it's Christmas Day. If you have it early you won't look forward to it.

Festival of Festive Foliage

Archdruid's Note: the Yule gathering-in of evergreen leaves, a symbol of everlasting life and hope in the midst of a deciduous world, is of great antiquity. Some have claimed that it is Celtic or even pre-Celtic. While others might point out that the first record of this happening is about the 15th Century. Either way the Festival Of Festive Foliage is an important part of Community Life, as we prepare for the Solsticial Darkapocalypse by gathering reminders of life and growth. For without growth there is no life, and without life no growth. And without that Christmas-tree smell where would Greg Lake's "I believe in Father Christmas" have found a rhyme for "peal of a bell"?

The Festival of Festive Foliage is a word-free liturgyn. We carry out this liturgical act with a soundtrack of "Stop the Cavalry". You may like to re-create the awesome experience this engenders by playing the video below.

Act of Gathering

The Moot House is empty except for Eileen and Daphne Hnaef. In front of the Important People's Area, on the  floor of the Moot House is drawn a large round circle. Before the Ceremony started, there was a small "Making the Circle" ceremony, which was both incomprehensible and rather boring. 

Ardwulf enters, bearing a sprig of holly. He lays it in the circle and takes his accustomed place.

Drogo and Marston enter, dragging a small Yule Log. They position it in the circle and take their accustomed places.

Edith Weston enters, bearing an amaryllis in flower.  There is a disagreement over whether this strictly constitutes foliage. The Archdruid suggests it be removed, but Edith appears on the edge of tears. For the sake of a peaceable community, the Archdruid is persuaded to let it lie. Lip-readers could see that she is muttering "it's a bloody flower" under her breath.

Aelfrithe enters, bearing a poinsettia. Mrs Hnaef persuades the Archdruid that those red things aren't flowers, they're a special kind of leaf. The Archdruid agrees to let it lie.


Elrod enters, bearing a bough of pyracantha. In line with good Health and Safety practice he is wearing wicket-keeper's gloves and welder's goggles. Sadly the goggles make him completely blind, so he trips over the Yule Log and impales his ear on the holly. He removes the googles, leaves the pyracantha where he dropped it, and takes his place, dabbing his bleeding ear with a piece of tissue.

Mr Woodhouse enters, with his son Mansfield bearing an African Violet. The Archdruid requests that Daphne bring it to her "because it's so lovely and I'd like to look more closely at it". Receiving it, she pulls all the flowers off and then throws the pot at Mansfield. Mansfield ducks and it catches Elrod a glancing blow. Mr Woodhouse goes back off to the Great House, saying he knew it would be dangerous to go to a ceremony.

Eloise enters, bearing a pine bough. The Archdruid smiles and makes a sign of blessing. Eloise discovers that Elrod has stood in her accustomed place, and throws him out. Elrod isn't having a great time.

 Drayton, having been convinced there is nothing pagan at all about collecting great piles of evergreen boughs for Yule, enters, bearing one end of a piece of ivy. Ten yards behind him, Kylie holds up the other end.  They take their accustomed places.

Amelie enters, bearing a blade of grass. She sees the ivy and asks whether it's poison ivy, as she's allergic to it. Drayton tells her it's not, Amelie says how does he know? Eileen points out that poison ivy doesn't grow in the United Kingdom. Amelie says that foreign species are being introduced all the time - haven't we all heard about that manatee living in the Serpentine? Eileen tells her to sit down and shut up. Amelie takes her accustomed place.

Burton Dassett appears, dragging a 12 foot Christmas tree on a go-kart.  It gets stuck in the door. He pulls it a bit but nothing happens. Then a bit more, and it topples off the go-kart and lands on Burton. Staggering around with his head wrapped in tinsel and fairy lights (for reasons known only to himself he has pre-decorated it), Burton crashes into Elrod and they both fall to the ground. Elrod catches his hand on a broken bauble.

Hnaef, who having spent the last week in an airport terminal has joined in the seasonal spirit in more ways than one, enters. Or to be precise he hurtles into the Moot House on a tractor, pulling a decent-sized pine tree. He runs over Elrod's foot, then shoots back out through the North-East Sunrise Door, scattering Beaker Folk in all directions. In the couple of moments that it takes her to dive behind the Liturgical Focus Table, Eileen notes that Hnaef, unlike Elrod, is wearing safety trainers. He has done well.

Anthem

The choir of little children break into the "choir" bit from The Darkness's "Christmas Time".

Act of Departure

Scared and dishevelled Beaker People climb back off the floor, and file off for a quick one before Filling Up of Beakers. At least the ceremony wasn't as bad or dangerous as last year.