The rolling of the year

I rather like the winter solstice. Although I will not admit to suffering from a Seasonally Affected Disorder, my mood does seem to lift as the 21st December is approached and I find the day needs to be spent in a celebratory mood. It is our wedding anniversary, so the celebration is naturally forthcoming and doubly great. But that aside, it still feels a great day.

The summer solstice passes me by, but the knowledge, in winter, when the day passes on which the sun is the lowest in the sky and on which it is the furthest away from west when it will set and that, from the solstice, we are gaining more sight of the sun (clouds permitting) is fine for me.

Of course, the Church knew what they were doing to tag their Christmas to a time already popular with pagan celebration. Just as the Romans were happy to embrace the culture they invaded, the whole winter festival stuff is a huge public relations exercise and, over the years, the various factions have felt at the heart or squeezed out of centre stage.

I was amused to watch, on early morning TV, a friendly, Dara O'Brien look-a-like bishop brought in to give balance after a Richard Dawkins based celebration to which God and Jesus were not invited. This celebration of Christmas was claimed to be for those of agnostic belief.
At one point, the interviewer asked that the celebration had hi -jacked Christmas. The bishop emphasised that the celebratory clue was in the word Christmas, forgetting completely the church's hi-jacking of those wonderful, Bacchanalian festivals of fire, light with folk being delighted (alcohol may have been involved) at the fact we could start another year.

And so, the year turns. There is a song from a musical written by John Kelly and comes along in making Scrooge realise the error of his grasping days. It is called The Rolling of the Year. I rather like its sentiment.