Vanessa: A very Jewish Christmas

It’s the second year in a row that St Nic has not filled my Christmas stocking in the manner to which I have become accustomed. Incidentally it’s also the second year that we’ve been without Jimmy Savile. Coincidence?

The 25th of December is a bit like a bourgeois version of the EastEnders Christmas special at my house. But instead of slinging G&Ts in each other’s faces we lob Marks & Spencer’s prosecco. Seeing as I’m technically Jewish, the fact that I’m celebrating at all may seem a little hypocritical. But I’m quite happy to abandon my wafer-thin principles one day a year for mercenary gain, and I think (judging by the images of my Yid friends indulging in a bit of gentile-joy on my Facebook stream) that I can speak for a generous proportion on the rest of The Tribe as well.

When I was young, idealistic and far cleverer than I am now I set up a yearly effort to raise money for homelessness in Brighton, which always caused me great distress, and still does. I was incredulous at how my wonderfully compassionate mother and father could walk past someone begging on the street without bringing them home to come and live with us.

I was, at the age of ten, in possession of an angelic-looking five-year-old brother with a voice that would have melted The Snowman. I marched the little chap about the streets of Hanover where we lived forcing him to sing ‘Silent Night’ on the neighbours’ doorsteps after explaining that the proceeds would go to a Brighton church which helped the homeless.

One year we made about £30, which to my ten-year-old self was a fortune. I kept it in my jewellery box at home, but little-by-little the sum mysteriously dwindled until I had just £2 left. Most of it went on sweets at Mitch’s – the corner shop, and the rest went on ribbons from Pennywise. Wracked with guilt my greedy secret festered away in me until this year when I confessed to a couple of my Jewish friends who were visiting from London. Their response was, “Well, that’s what happens if you let a Jew go carol singing.” We all fell about laughing of course and moved on.

But the story stuck with me until I heard a bit of local gossip. There was a ‘very Brighton’ kerfuffle at a local school this season when a Jewish family were upset that ‘We Wish You A Merry Christmas’ was being sung as part of the school play. It was suggested that “We Wish You A Merry Winter” might be more appropriate. Things got heated and the song was dropped.

This made me sad for a number of reasons; firstly because the ridiculous abuses of equalities policies that we are occasionally made to endure make me want to bash my head against a wall. Secondly because the kids just want to have fun at Christmas, they don’t know about all the nonsense and are better off for it. Thirdly because I recognise this as a C of E country and one which gave my persecuted family a safe and comfortable home a few generations back. I don’t know the whole story, but I find it embarrassing when that’s disrespected by members of my own faith. But finally and most profoundly it made me sad because in my mind God is God no matter which one you worship.

Brighton was recently named the most Godless city in England, with over 42% claiming no religion. I’m a great advocate of God and religion. I don’t see all the horror most of you see in the same way. I don’t care which God I give thanks to, as long as I remember to give thanks. I don’t care if he’s a beardy guy on a cloud, or a scientific breakthrough nobody thought was possible. I don’t care if he’s waiting for me when I die, or if he’s a He, or a She or even an It. Call him Enlightenment or Science or Mother Earth or Father… I just care that the concept of God keeps me striving for the apparently unobtainable and keeps my mind wide open to endless possibilities.

What I failed to do as a child when I spent the carol singing money on sweets was something we in the Jewish faith call a ‘mitzvah’. It’s a good deed, and we’re encouraged to do one every day. Today my Mitzvah is to tell you about the Brighton and Hove Churches Night Shelter , which offers overnight accommodation to the homeless of our Godless city during the winter months. There are seven participating churches: Church of Christ the King, Sacred Heart Hove, St Joseph’s, One Church, Bishop Hannington, St Andrew’s, All Saints Hove, St Peter’s and Church on the Rock. I’ll be donating my payment for this column to their effort and I’d like to encourage you, no matter what your creed, culture or belief system, to take a moment to look them up and consider parting with the few quid you might otherwise give to a naughty kid that’s highly likely to spend it on sweets. Because no matter what we believe, we all have a moral obligation to take care of each other… and I don’t think there’s a religion on earth that would disagree.