Showing posts from January, 2017

Mary, Mother of God

Our nativity set at the west end of the church does, I admit, present a rather sanitised picture of the birth of Our Lord. To get the statues out, I had to excavate a pile of old sacking and hay underneath the Lady Chapel altar, and I’m afraid we needed the rubber gloves on, because it quickly became clear that the resident rodent population had taken occupancy therein, and whatever the rats had been eating for dinner was now covering the tarpaulins in both solid and liquid states. So Jane got the big wheely bin in and we held our breath and chucked the lot of it, while Helena got behind the altar with the Henry hoover. Some gold and red cloth from the art shop round the corner replaced what we had threw away, making what I hope you agree is quite a beautiful little scene - but nobody can deny that the rat-infested rags and hay would have been more true to life.
There is a danger that we are so familiar with St Luke’s beautifully crafted account in the Bible that it can seem rather…