Children's service done - midnight communion packed and church looking great. Two services left before we turn the church building into its Christmas dinner venue mode and somewhere near fifty people arrive for lunch and all that goes with it.
Some batty lady (apparently) has bowled the poor old Pope over, not a funny happening at his age - could you imagine what a fuss there would have been had he broken his hip or something?
I'm taking this brief moment of respite from the madness, tidings of comfort and joy, and mayhem that will be this day to focus on the infant child - the journey to manhood (and the Cross) and the fact that the light has indeed come into this world and regardless of sinful natures, the darkness will not and cannot (ever) overcome it. Hallelujah!
+Croydon is right, the carols we sing have no relevance to the reality - but there is a reality in that as we sing them and we remember Christmas gone when we had parents perhaps and our siblings were people with whom we tussled and played with equal passion. When all we needed was a box of Lego or a Meccano set and Scalextric meant you'd have to let your uncles play and hopefully get a go on Boxing Day. The words are erroneously set but the memories that we have associated with them are treasured and you know what - I still get a buzz form singing them just as Mums still shed a tear as little Johnny (or in this case - Alexander) wearing a gold foil crown and bearing a gift approaches Joseph (tea towel on head) and Mary (is that a Birmingham shirt she's wearing?) in the nativity play.
The anamnesis that is Christmas joins the first Christmas with the second Coming, for we celebrate both on Christmas morn', with the reality of 'now' and the memories of Christmas past - looking with hope to the Christmas yet to come until He comes. He is, of course, present in them all and even though we might not have been known to us was present, is present and will be present at them all.
Be near me Lord Jesus
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