Christmas highs and lows

Over at Kelvin’s Blog you can see his highs from Christmas this year. What were mine?  Well thank you for asking.

Firstly, it must be the crowds (over 60 adults and a host of children) who turned up for our afternoon Crib Service on Christmas Eve. The majority had never been through the doors before (which necessitated a quick trip to the Off Licence to get more wine to add to the mulled wine pot).

That brings me to one of the lows – the fact that I hadn’t prepared something better for my slot after the play.  But still not regretting ditching the Christingles (thanks to Kelvin again) as we would never have guessed that many children.

Next high was the theme tune to Harry Potter being played softly as people gathered for the Nativity Play. It really did give the impression that something magical was about to take place.

Another high has been our Scottish Crib. This really has captured the imagination of all who have visited. Children run to crouch down in front of it with their friends, pointing out all the Scottish artefacts and giggling at the Caganer. Adults smile and get a quick pic with their mobile phone cameras.

My last high has to be the music. Our new choir stunned us with some beautiful new carols at the Lessons and Carol service. There was a momentary fear that we wouldn’t have a choir for Midnight Mass but in the end we did and that verse with descant of our final hymn, O Come all Ye Faithful, always brings a tear to my eye. Just glorious.

And let’s not forget our afternoon concert by Philomusica and Wendy Weatherby’s wonderful music from A Scots Quair.

And the last low? Only that so many people missed it this year because of the nasty viruses doing the rounds.

Thank you to all who helped prepare the church, who cleaned and decorated and replaced candle upon candle. Thank you to all who served at the Altar, who handed out books and welcomed visitors, who prepared food and wine and washed up after, who folded and stapled hundreds of service sheets, who worked and rehearsed and cajoled the children, who brought Scottish offerings for the baby Jesus, and to those who just turned up – a big THANK YOU.

The Twelve Days of Christmas – the revised politically correct version.

On the 12th day of the Eurocentrically-imposed midwinter festival, my Significant Other, in a consenting, adult, monogamous relationship gave to me:

TWELVE males reclaiming their inner warrior through ritual drumming,

ELEVEN pipers piping (plus the 18-member pit orchestra made up of members in good standing of the Musicians Equity Union as called for in their union contract even though they will not be required to play a note),

TEN melanin-deprived testosterone-poisoned scions of the patriarchal ruling class system leaping,

NINE persons engaged in rhythmic self-expression,

EIGHT economically-disadvantaged female persons stealing milk products from enslaved Bovine-citizens,

SEVEN endangered swans swimming on federally-protected wetlands,

SIX enslaved Fowl-citizens producing stolen non-human animal products,

FIVE golden symbols of culturally-sanctioned enforced domestic incarceration, (Note: after members of the Animal Liberation Front threatened to throw red paint at my computer, the calling birds, French hens and partridge have been reintroduced to their native habitat. To avoid further Animal enslavement, the remaining gift package has been revised.)

FOUR hours of recorded whale songs

THREE deconstructionist poets

TWO Sierra Club calendars printed on recycled processed tree carcasses and…

ONE Spotted Owl activist chained to an old-growth pear tree.

A Scottish Christmas

It was Christmas eve and there was an air of anticipation. The church was decorated with enough holly to make a wreath-maker envious. The Christmas flowers were arranged with perfection. The crib was bedecked with every Scottish cliché to fit with our theme of a Scottish Christmas.

By 4pm the buzz was electric as over 60 parents gathered for our Crib Service and the second showing of our Nativity Play. The stage was set and the performance was worthy of an Oscar or two.  Afterwards all the children gathered on the steps and told me all about the figures going in to the Crib scene.  Hands shot up in the air to tell of the shepherds receiving the good news first and that they were poor people so that is good news for us. Then they were all placed in the Crib amongst our Scottish gifts.

In fact, you couldn’t keep them away for it!

There was no less an atmosphere of anticipation at the midnight service for grown-ups. We gathered in the gloom and it all began with the choir singing Once in Royal David’s City, the candles were lit, (the temperature rose!), and we listened to the story of some shepherds on a hillside being gob-smacked at what they heard.  Yes, our gospel reading came from the Scots Gospel to fit with our theme of a Scottish Christmas. By the time they were ‘dumfoonert’ some titters could be heard.

By the time we came to our last hymn, O Come all ye Faithful, accompanied to the sound of popping Champagne corks, all was well with the world.  And why does that descant always make me cry?

It was a wonderful Scottish Christmas. How are we going to match it next year?

Lessons and poems and carols

There is always a brief moment for clergy when they think that nobody is going to turn up for an extra service.  It is blowing a gale outside, the berries have been blown off the holly tree in the church garden, it is the third service of the day, some of the choir have pulled out, and it is dark outside and you are up against Lark Rise to Candleford. The choir have rehearsed some new carols, the candles are lit, the mulled wine is heating gently and the Scottish crib is now bulging with tartan goodies. 10 minutes to go and there is one family in the pews… even my readers haven’t turned up…

Have faith, little priest, have faith.

By the time we processed upstairs the church was almost full, the readers in place, and an air of anticipation was felt. An hour later there was such a buzz it was almost magical. This year we had a mix of scripture readings, poetry, prose and carols, of course. People who have never read before had a go and it was just bliss.

(And I have told K that she is to have that baby in the next 48 hours so we can have a live bambino for the Midnight service.)

Next stop: sermons, sermons, pew sheets, flowering of church and shopping. Phew!

A Scottish crib

This morning saw the premier performance of the Nativity Play by our Junior Church. No photos I’m afraid, for Child Protection issues, but believe me it was a very moving experience. We had sound effects, parents in their jammies, Postman Pat, crazy shepherds chasing sheep, angels galore, and a most beautiful Mary and Joseph.  You can catch a repeat performance on Christmas eve at 4pm.

A few faithful volunteers stayed behind to decorate the crib and make it Scottish, following our theme this year of contextualising Christmas. Not all the gifts are in place yet, but if you look closely you will see a few Highland coos, Nessie, puffins, a neep, Irn Bru, shortbrea, Lees macaroon bars and Tunnocks teacakes. Forget the gold, incense and myrrh! We know what we like here in Scotland.

A Scottish Crib scene

And if you look very closely in the front right corner you might even find a Scottish Caganer!  Following the Catalonian tradition of hiding a little man crouching down have a poo, to show that Christ’s birth affects all humanity, we have followed in that great tradition.  Here he is in glorious close-up…

Scottish caganer

Scottish Caganer (rear view)

I see I may have to touch up my paintwork for close-ups!

Bet you don’t see another like it!

Laugh? I nearly wet myself

Last night saw the Cursillo Christmas party at St Mark’s. Enough nibbles to feed an army, as ever. Little elves who came straight from work to put the church together and stayed behind to wash the glasses – bless them. Singing of one Advent hymn accompanied by L on the clarsach and then a few Christmas carols. (Yes, I know! St Mark’s lot mimed or stay tight-lipped!)

Then came the turns. Some poems, some prose but the prize has to go to Father A who did a rendition of the 12 Days of Christmas a la Frank Kelly (Fr Jack from Father Ted). You had to be there!  It has to be the best version ever. Go listen to it yourself now!

The Caganer

This Advent we have been looking at Christmas preprations around the world. We discovered the joy of the Caganer found in Catalonian and other nativity scenes. The Caganer (translates as ‘pooper’) is a small figure hidden somewhere in the nativity crouching down doing a poo. I think it is all to do with the humanity of Christ. But what fun!

Catalonian caganer

Now, Caganers are made to look like famous people.

Pope Benedict caganer

Bush caganer

We’re hoping to have one in our Nativity this year but I’m not telling who it will look like. You can always guess…

Blame it on the Gluwein

The ‘Ladies who Lunch once a year’ met today in Princes Street for some browsing in the German market, a little Gluwein, and a light lunch.  Had a Flirt at the Gluwein stall (Gluwein with Amaretto) then lunch (with wine) then a go on the big wheel (saw Fife but who’d want to?) and then shopped. Big mistake. Don’t go shopping after Gluwein. Bought chocolate soap at Crabtree & Evelyn and a Radley handbag in Jenners. Big mistake. and its taken me an hour to type this!

Santa’s a Scotsman

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=vkpOfHW75ck

Advent conspiracy

Check this out. It is the gist of my parish letter this month.