Christmas is no time to be a control freak

Counter culture
Leonie Caldecott
/ONCE HEARD a wonderful talk describing the first Christmas from St Joseph's point of view. We were asked to imagme what it must have been like for him, a master carpenter, preparing the house in Nazareth, with a cradle and all the other furnishings of family life, ready to receive the baby which was on its way. And then to be told that you must leave all this behind, up sticks and go to Bethlehem, just as the baby is due, there to find not even a room or a bed, but a simple stable with nothing but the animals' manger in which to place the child. All his skill, all his careful preparations, all his loving providence, gone to waste; and he powerless to provide for his wife and the heavenly child in any way, except to stand guard over them in this wildly inappropriate and makeshift setting. Cut to the last anniversary of that event in the second millennium. All the shops, all the magazines are full to overflowing with the accoutrements deemed necessary for a perfect Christmas. The message is: you are in control. You can cook the perfect turkey, put on the superlative concert, wrap the ideal presents. Your perfectly behaved friends, relatives and children will all fall in line to make this the party of your dreams, running over into the Great Millennium Bash a week later.
But of course we are not in control. Anything can go wrong, and does. We might wish to do the tiniest things right", but the fact is that we're weak and fallible human beings (and no one more so than the one who feels him or herself to be strong and competent). How often are we forced to pare our horizons down, like St Joseph, to the bare minimum? All that counts, really, is giving the baby a good reception. For in accepting to be born under such circumstances, he has gone to incredible lengths to get close to us. When we come to the manger to see him, we bring, as Christina Rossetti puts it, the only treasure we truly possess: our heart. When we contemplate the paradox of the Incarnation, it is perhaps possible, after all, to be merry in spite of tribulation. It is a great gift to be merry.
I for one rely on my children for laughs. Children are capable of saying the most wildly funny things, and their humour is utterly without malice. We roll our eyes at the way girls go into giggling fits, but a good giggle is intensely therapeutic. They say that tears are therapeutic too. To laugh until you cry is the most therapeutic thing of all. This is why television shows like You've Been Framed cause such mirth. There's something immensely reassuring about our own and other people's bloopers. So when the going (or the turkey) gets tough, the gravy goes lumpy and we collapse with the flu, or just plain exhaustion, perhaps it's best to view the situation as high comedy. And perhaps the best Christmas present is a good joke book (my daughter recommends Calvin and Hobbes).
In case you are still in need of a laugh, here are some children's RE bloopers that were sent to us on the ubiquitous intemet. Did you know that: • Noah's wife was called Joan of Ark.
• The Jews were a proud people and throughout history they had trouble with the unsympathetic genitals.
II The first commandment was when Eve told Adam to eat the apple.
• Lot's wife was a pillar of salt by day, but a ball of fire by night.
And, oh yes... the greatest miracle in the Bible is when Joshua told his son to stand still and he obeyed him.
Merry Christmas!