The old (c. 17th century) carol "I Saw Three Ships" has Jesus and his mother in them, sailing into Bethlehem. As Wikipedia points out somewhat prissily, it's 20 miles from Bethlehem to the nearest large body of water - and that's the Dead Sea... So it's all impossible, I hear you snort - which is part of what makes it so stimulatingly mysterious.
The Sunday Times ran a competition in 1940 for a new carol; this brilliant reworking of the Christmas Day ships motif was the entry from a Mrs Addington:
I saw a ship, a little ship
sail like the crescent moon
And at the helm there sat a girl
singing a cradle tune
But though she lulled a tiny child
great was her majesty
And all the flowers and all the stars
were not as fair as she
O keep your grimness and your gold
for right across the sky
We’ll sail until we reach the land,
she, the child, and I.
For wealth is dry and men must die
but still our day is dawning
I saw a ship come sailing by
on Christmas day in the morning.
It's like a visionary painting, isn't it? Jesus and his mother aren't even named. It's a song of hope, with a clear message: it's not grimness and gold that'll help us sail across the sky, but a visionary hope symbolised by Christmas (whatever you do/not believe.)
It's so gentle, but it's also tough-minded. "Men must die;" no matter how much we order from Amazon, no matter how many adverts scream at us from our exhausting TV sets, we're mortal, and wealth, on its own, is dry. Isn't it, Mr Osborne?
We have to believe our day is dawning. Perhaps it's easier to do so at Christmas.
I wish you not just a merry but a Happy Christmas.
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