Midnight Mass and you are Always Alone With the Turkey

The wonderful thing about midnight mass is being some of the first to know! The rest of the world is sleeping but you are there at the moment of Jesus’s birth. There is no greater story in the world, and sometimes I forget that Mary was an unmarried mother. You could not think of greater words than the accounts of this birth in the gospels. But the astonishing role that Joseph played in it is often overlooked. Our church is ministered by women and they have a magical way of sharing this great story with us all. It has so many strands and from it there is so much to learn, not least the journey of two ordinary simple people who were chosen to be part in this wondrous story.


The turkey is a challenge and one I always seem to face alone; wrestling with this beast is a solitary thing and I have only just recovered from the one at thanksgiving. Really I am beginning to think I have lost the plot with that and sprouts. Thank heavens the bin men come on Thursday we will soon be displaced by the piles of paper. This must be the greatest example of profligate waste. The Sainted One has been great wearing a selection of bow ties in which he looks very dashing. There are a lot of people in various stages of sleep in this house now. Christmas is marvellous. The Sainted One keeps turning off the Christmas lights, of which there are nine sets. I do not fancy my chances on a life support machine with him around.

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