Truth and traditions

I have been struck over the last few days ( partly by reading Judith Flanders “Christmas, A History” and partly by picking up odd things on twitter like greetings for Tibb’s Eve - in Newfoundland - or Irish friends out today “Chasing the Wren ) how much I don’t know about the many traditions that go together to make up what we collectively think of as Christmas.

But somewhere within it all is that conundrum , well expressed by John Betjeman (whom yesterday I saw misquoted and misnamed in connection with this )in his eponymous poem of which these are the last three verses:

“And is it true,
This most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained-glass window's hue,
A Baby in an ox's stall ?
The Maker of the stars and sea
Become a Child on earth for me ?

And is it true ? For if it is,
No loving fingers tying strings
Around those tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things,
Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant,

No love that in a family dwells,
No carolling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this single Truth compare -
That God was man in Palestine
And lives today in Bread and Wine.”