The week of Christmas started well enough. I got involved with a great group of people to help put together a community carols event in the outdoors. It was a beautiful fine night and hundreds of folks from the local area came out to sit on their blankets and sing Christmas Carols and generally get in the mood for Christmas. The whole thing had a warm, caring feel about it.
A couple of days later, I went out and sang some more Carols in a few local houses for shut-in elderly people and some folks with disabilities. I played notes on my guitar which I'm pretty sure have never been played in those songs before, in keys which were sometimes not suitable for a diverse group of singers (of mixed ability!) but our audiences seemed to really enjoy it. One of them celebrated our performance by taking all his clothes off! I can honestly say that its the first time anybody reacted to my musical efforts in such a way, let alone the new slant it gave me on "Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer". Later on, it made me think about what goes through my head when I listen to music - try it sometime, its a hard question to answer, I reckon.
A few days after that, Christmas was upon us. Things started quietly enough, cos our kids are not so excited about ripping wrapping paper off gifts as they once were. Then of course, we needed to get to church, and that, as usual, resulted in raised voices, tension, and the inevitable 4/5 of the family sitting in the driveway idling the car while we waited for the last 1/5 to be ready. I was somewhat surprised then, that we actually managed to be early as we pulled into the street where our local church sits.
I was also surprised when a car raced out of the shopping centre across our path, nearly causing an accident with another car coming in the opposite direction. I was then REALLY surprised by the appearance of a completely naked woman who also crossed our path and started running down the street. Christmas Day obviously means different things to different people, but till now I wasn't familiar with the tradition which involves running through your suburb with no clothes on. Clearly something was not right, and my wife and I got out of our car and gave chase, to see if we could offer some help.
The woman was quite dis-oriented, distressed and confused. My wife was able to convince her to sit down in a bus shelter and (eventually) put on the shirt which the guy in the other car had thrown out his window. (still don't know what his connection to this really is...). I rang the police and eventually a couple of female PCs and paramedics arrived to help out. This poor woman, maybe in her 30s, was so confused, it took sometime to even get her name, but slowly she was able to provide information for the police to check their records to start piecing together her story.
When it was clear that she was now safe, and I'd provided a detailed statement to the police, we left to go back to church. It turns out she'd been reported as a missing person FOUR days prior. Where had she been? What had happened to her in the meantime? We may never know.
Singing Christmas Carols in church that morning was more lilke an out of body experience - the events of the previous hour or so seemed quite surreal.
At lunchtime on Christmas day, for the second year in a row, we got involved with a large charity organization which provides a community meal for disadvantaged folks in the inner city. A mate of mine introduced us to the idea last year, and we found it to be a strangely liberating experience. Not concerned by "whose place will we have Christmas at?" this opportunity is a truly pleasurable bit of work experience. And for us well-fed, middle class types who pretty much know where our next meal and bed is, the chance to simply provide some folks who rarely have that certainty with a smile, a friendly word and a hearty (in fact, delicious!) meal is a real privilege.
I'm also wracked with admiration for the people who've made it their life's business to do this work all the time. I'd urge you to support them and the FoodBank charities in your city if you can.
Later that day, we caught up with friends and did the usual "eat, drink & be merry" Christmas thing. As we did though, I was challenged by the chewiness of the day- the normal Christmas vibe I'd known probably my whole life was somehow changing.
First there was our naked carol singer friend, living in the moment and simply revelling in the joy of it all. Then there was the tragic (still unfolding) story of the woman running naked through the streets, chasing or maybe being chased by her own demons. And then, there was the paradox of 250 homeless people gathered in the centre of the metropolis eating a sumptuous feast, constructed from the unwanted excess food from countless supermarkets.
It did strike me that the person for whom we celebrate Christmas, Jesus of Nazareth, might not think twice about these things at all.
Go figure.
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