SIMPLY HAVING...

Your Busy Time...

"It's coming up to your busy time, isn't it?" people say, cheerily. Every priest gets this, all through their ministry, every Christmas. There's no point in saying that actually there are more services at Easter, because people are trying to be friendly. It's an indication that they sort of understand Christmas; it's a frenetic time, and they recognize that we have some sort of proprietorial relationship with it. And to be fair, Christmas is more stressful than Easter because the extra services are things that you are not in control of. In Holy Week you have a very demanding round of worship, but you set the pace, and the liturgy is all given, so you know what's coming next, whereas at Christmas, there is an expectation that you will put in an appearance, give a welcome, say a prayer or a blessing and generally be Christmassy at events that you haven't planned, and where you don't know how long they will last. If they are using your building then you probably have to open and close for them and generally do what a verger does in places that have vergers (though the excellent Lesley does some of that for me here). When you go to someone else's premises to do the Christmas thing you often fail to factor in the possibility of being offered mince pies by nice hospitable people, which again adds to uncertainty over timing. I should say that I'm in no position to complain, as we have hardly any outside requests for use of our buildings as Christmas venues, unlike some of my brethren, in more "civic" churches, where there is a constant procession of carol services for one organisation or institution or another from late November onwards. It's also not just worship, because there are Christmas events of other sorts that require a clerical presence as well.

The reason clergy tend not to welcome the "busy time" comment, though, is that underlying it is the assumption that we're not busy the rest of the time. There is a very persistent presumption in England (which goes back centuries) that the clergy are idle and ineffectual, and in a society that doesn't much want to engage with things of the spirit, or matters of life and death, it's not surprising that many people simply can't envisage what we do all day. We are economically unproductive, and so don't fit easily into a business model, which is how most people seem to be encouraged to view the world just now. To be fair, lots of churchgoers seem to imagine that their parish priest does nothing very much for most of the time, which is a bit frustrating. All the clergy I know work very hard, all year round, and don't actually take anything like the amount of time off that they are supposed to. Finding the time for one's personal relationships, not to mention prayer, study and reading, all of which are supposed to be priorities for us, is always a challenge.     


Are You Going Away?

The other question that grates for us just now (this is really Scrooge-like!) is when people ask, "Are you going away for Christmas?" which someone does almost every day. Some then think about it and add, "Oh, but I suppose you have to be here," but it's amazing how many that never occurs to. Yes, actually, I shall be here, because I have to celebrate the Holy Mysteries at Midnight, and on Christmas morning; and please don't think I'm complaining about that. Far from it; that is a great privilege for a parish priest. And it's entirely appropriate that we should be at home at Christmas, because you're supposed to be in the bosom of your family, and actually, for the priest, your congregation and the people of the neighbourhood are your extended family. It would feel very strange to be worshipping with a different bunch of people at Christmas from those you minister to for the rest of the year. But the question just forgets that whereas Christmas means holiday for most people, we are the one profession who are absolutely guaranteed to be working, at least up until lunchtime on Christmas Day. It doesn't necessarily stop then, either, because I remember years ago having someone turn up on my doorstep after dark on Christmas Day who needed to make a confession, which demanded quite a change of gear.


Deck The Halls

The events, however, have been joyful. Our Christmas fair raised over a thousand pounds (which should please the treasurer, who was crewing a yacht sailing across the Atlantic) and passed off happily. The Lunch Club Christmas Party fed about sixty people (variously elderly, vulnerable or needy) with, frankly, a feast, cooked almost single-handed by the indefatigable Jacqui, and ended with an extraordinarily diverse group sitting around playing dominoes. I went along to the Paddington Festival Gala Awards last week, to support one of the volunteers who works incredibly hard to support the Lunch Club, and who we'd put up for an award, which he duly received, but then I found myself being given an award for "encouraging community spirit", which was a total surprise. It was good to see ordinary people being saluted for making an effort in their community, and moving to see how loyal to the area many people who have grown up in Paddington are. Probably our most important events, though, were carols in St Mary Magdalene's Church for Edward Wilson School, the other school on the Estate, the secular, "community" school, whose student body is at least 90% Muslim. The current Head decided a year ago that it was not sustainable for the school to ignore Christmas, as it had done, and so last year was the first time they used our building, while I stayed away, at his request, so as not to appear to be proselytising. This year I was asked to be present and welcome people, which I was delighted to do, and it was really encouraging to see lots of parents there. A new group of people found that they were welcome in a beautiful and inspiring space, which is what it's all about. Happy Christmas!