As every American knows, Christmas in London is a magical winter wonderland, with carolers on every corner singing in perfect harmony to a steady but manageable stream of cheerful shoppers. Everybody’s hands are tucked safely into large fluffy muffs, except for a sprinkling of coal-blackened orphans wearing fingerless gloves, the better to clutch their chimney-sweeping equipment, and as the day wears on, everybody hurries home to eat a fat, perfectly roast goose, leaving the snow-dusted streets empty but for twinkling lights and the occasional ghost.
In real life, Christmas in London can be divided into two parts: the painfully crowded shopping period before, and the utterly lifeless dead zone during.

Let’s start with the pre-Christmas period. At their best, the sidewalks of Oxford Street–London’s main shopping district–are already crowded nearly to capacity. In December, they become (in the memorable description of Time Out London) “a foul torrent of vile-tempered people”. It becomes difficult to merely move from one store to the next; caroling is out of the question, as is any other activity that requires enough chest room to draw a breath. In short, the busiest street in London becomes like a typical street in Manhattan.
Then, on Christmas day itself, all of mankind vanishes. The city shuts down. The Tube and the buses stop running. Even the movie theatres–the traditional Christmas-day refuge of the American Jew–are closed. Some restaurants are open, but they are, most likely, serving ultra-expensive multi-course fixed-price meals that were, in any case, fully reserved months in advance. As Lauren and I have discovered, if you don’t actually observe Christmas, the best place to spend Christmas in London is Paris.
In any case, the massive throngs, followed by eerie ghost-town emptiness, make it clear that virtually every one in London celebrates Christmas. This does not mean that the English are more spiritual or religious than Americans; in fact, it’s quite the opposite. Once upon a time, Church attendence could be expected to double on Christmas day; now, the average increase is only 20%, and it’s less in many areas. And even with the uptick in attendance, only three percent of the population will take communion at an Anglican church this Christmas.
The Church of England has done its best to combat this trend. They have tried giving out free chocolate bars to entice congregants back to church. More pointedly, they have protested a rather secular Nativity scene at Madame Tussaud’s featuring soccer star David Beckham as Joseph, and his popstar wife Posh Spice as the Virgin Mary. (Kylie Minogue floats above the crib as an angel, and the tableau is completed by Tony Blair, George W. Bush, and the Duke of the Edinburgh as the Three Wise Men, and Samuel L Jackson, Hugh Grant, and Graham Norton as shephards.)
But despite these efforts, Christmas here seems to be going the way of Halloween in the US, and transforming itself into an entirely secular holiday. Since I moved to London, there have been multiple occasions when I, a Jew, have found myself being wished a merry Christmas by a Muslim. I see this as further proof of my theory that the intermingling of church and state has devastating consequences for the church. When being British is sufficient reason to celebrate Christmas, being Christian becomes superfluous.
Having spent some 14 years of my life at an Episcopal school, I’m a great admirer of Christianity, and I would love to see the Church succeed in its ongoing campaign to “put the Christ back in Christmas”–but something tells me they won’t be able to do so until they get the government and the shopping malls out of it.