It’s the most wonderful calendar clash of the year. A time when shiny baubles and multicoloured fairy lights will square up against a couple of candles and a wax-splashed menorah.

You see, thanks to the vagaries of the Hebrew calendar, the first night of Chanukah falls on Christmas Day. A case of 25th Kislev meets 25th December Or, put simply, a time when remembering the miracle of the oil is potentially outplayed by the Miracle on 34th Street.

Normally those of us who celebrate Chanukah and/or Christmas rarely give much thought to comparing the two (save for all those questions from non-Jewish friends and colleagues such as “so, is it forbidden to eat chocolate Yule logs?”). It’s rare that we fret about whether chocolate Chanukah gelt can outshine tinsel, pine and saucy Santa novelties, since the dates of these two diverse celebrations rarely align. But this year it’s different.

Of course those of a spiritual nature may read something into the fact that at a time of so much global division, two of the great monotheistic religions will come together on one specific date. Indeed it’s hard not to wonder whether there is a message here. Perhaps that we should focus on what unites rather than divides us? Finding light in darkness – be it lit by Chanukah candles or an illuminated reindeer – to seek renewal after defeat.

Or as one friend (less spiritual, more entry level comic) observed, it will be as if Father Christmas discovers he’s sharing an Airbnb with Judah and the Maccabees (“You have the ensuite, Santa – we insist!”)

The question is: are there any advantages in being either Team Christmas or Team Chanukah? After all, Jewish people are famously patriotic – not least towards embracing the customs of this country and its monarchy. So does it matter whether the food coma you wake from to watch the King’s speech is induced by latkes and doughnuts or turkey and stuffing? Either way, we’ll be beached on the couch ready to listen to what we hope will be an uplifting message after what has been a difficult year for the Royal Family. And it’s pretty easy to combine turkey and latkes, or stuff doughnuts with mincemeat.

I love – love! – Christmas. The shops sparkling with tinsel, the window displays packed with presents and all that supermarket satin. Together they change our grey reality to Disneyesque magic. Here in Manchester, the Christmas markets spread jewel-like over the city centre. The air is thick with the scent of mulled wine, and stall holders tempt you with delicious cheese and mince pies.

But on a practical basis, what does it really mean when these two festivals – both all about food, presents and family get-togethers – fall on the same day?

Well, to be pragmatic, it means fewer arguments. Those who feel a bit funny about trying to recreate the Christmas experience through the lens of Chanukah can go full throttle on turkey, crackers and more. And since some Jewish households also have Christmas trees (as many as a third in the States) for many it’s a natural festive mash-up.

Jewish purists need not despair. There are a few practical ways Chanukah scores over Christmas There may officially be 12 days of Christmas, but celebrations are usually limited to a measly three. Chanukah is eight full days, each night creating a sense of renewal thanks to the candles we light. What’s more, unlike one exchange of gifts on Christmas Day there’s a chance – with enough nagging – to receive a present every night.

With Chanukah there’s also less scope for disappointment since we’re not bombarded with images selling us a dream of Christmas, happy families in snow-capped cottages, warmed by roaring fires, singing along to Michael Bublé’s festive classics. A Chanukah TV ad would likely feature kids bickering over “who lit last night” while Mum moans about getting wax on the shagpile. No three wise men, just four Jews with five opinions. We frame Chanukah through our own expectations. There’s no multimedia juggernaut to make you feel you’re missing out. It can be as big or small as you want. No pressure.

Unless you opt to do the whole turkey experience, you’re not saddled with leftovers for days to come. No one curries cholent on Chanukah day two. And the number of hot latkes I make is directly proportional to how quickly my family can eat them.

Having done the full Christmas Day experience only once  (and loved every minute of it) it’s to be decided whether we’ll be pulling crackers after a few bars of Maoz Tsur. Though I do love making kosher pigs in blankets (salt beef is an excellent replacement for bacon).

But whatever “25th” fusion you plump for, I hope it’s a happy, peaceful experience. And remember, it`s all about tradition! t