A Christmas Story

Some anecdotes about our Christmas at my parish:

• My children's choir performed at the Christmas Eve Mass as planned, and the complete massacre of Christmas carols I had expected mercifully didn't transpire. Only about half showed up -- apparently the better half! -- and although they sang too softly and were only about ten strong, they sounded very good and all looked very cute. The presider kindly came up to me during our rehearsal, kneeled down next to my crouched position on the floor, and told me that they sounded very good, which helped my confidence and nerves immensely. The children got lots of applause and I was very proud of them, although I still have every intention of quashing the project until next fall.
• During the Eucharistic Prayer, the visiting presider forgot our bishop's name, and paused as he prayed, "Strengthen in faith and love your pilgrim Church on earth; your servant, Pope Benedict, our bishop, What's-His-Name?" He turned to ask the Deacon aloud, "What's the bishop's name?" Everyone laughed.
• His homily was directed at the little children he had gather around the front of the altar. He talked to them about how strange it seems that we all give each other gifts on Jesus' birthday, and asked why we don't give Jesus presents on his birthday. One child responded, "Because he's dead!" Hmm... a future theologian maybe?
• The point of the presider's homily was that there is a little bit of Jesus in every one of us, so we give gifts to each other because Jesus is inside all of us. At the end of Mass, the presider ad-libbed, addressing those people who don't usually go to church regularly. He said that he knew it took a lot of effort for them to get to church in this terrible weather, and hoped that they would put that same amount of effort into bringing a little bit of Jesus inside of them to the whole world. It was a beautiful comment and I think it left everybody on a good note.
• Before the Family Mass, three of us ministerial types were running around trying to find the Baby Jesus figurine to place in the creche. I asked one of the girls in my choir who had been helping to decorate the church, "Have you seen the Baby Jesus?" That set everybody off in a fit of giggles and word spread quickly among the children that the Baby Jesus was missing. Fortunately, sometime before our performance had ended, the Baby Jesus was relocated -- he needs a GPS inside that diaper, I think. I gave Jesus to a little girl whose cue to deliver Him to the manger was, "And it came time for her to deliver her child." I said to the little one, "Just remember: it's time for you to deliver the child." She laughed, agreed, and ended up delivering him perfectly on cue and ever so cutely to the manger.
• I stayed until minutes after midnight to make sure all of the volunteers were in place and the pastor didn't need anything else before I left for home to get a whopping 4.5 hours of sleep. Father had told me I didn't need to stay so late, but I insisted, knowing I would like to see some of our parishioners on such an important day of the year, and to make sure he didn't need anything since he was completely on his own. As he got vested I mentioned I was going to lock the door behind him to prevent any thefts. He got in line and just as I was about to stick my key in the door and head home, I asked the crucial question: "Where's the Baby Jesus?" Father sheepishly laughed and headed back to the sacristy, picked up Jesus, and got back into the procession. I teased him, "Aren't you glad I stayed until midnight after all?" He smiled and then deadpanned, "Go home."
• The visiting presider gave a long spiel at his first Mass with us about how the Church asks us to use the Nicene Creed on only two days of the year, and this is one of them, and how we should all genuflect together at "and became man" because this was what we were there to celebrate. Then starting us off, he launched into the "I believe in God" of the Apostles' Creed, which all the lambs in the congregation dutifully followed, then apologized aloud for messing up. He did better the second and third times he gave his Nicene Creed spiel.
• I'm pretty sure over the course of six masses I said, "Merry Christmas!" somewhere in the neighbourhood of 4300 times. All in all, it was an exhausting venture, but a beautiful moment. Never has Christmas felt so real, so present to me as it did this year; I guess six Christmas masses will do that to you, but it was a wonderful feeling and I am glad to have played a small part in making Christmas come alive for others in our congregation.