Take 2

One question I have been asked consistently in the last month is this: ‘will The Malmesbury Nativity be the same as last year?’ I am really quite proud of myself; at no point have I answered ‘actually, it’s going to be twins this year.’ A longer and more helpful answer follows.

Last year we wanted a new mix. Carols that had a live band and nodded in the direction of the contemporary folk rock; actors who were trained actors, not vicars pretending; a set that brought everybody close to the action, rather have people 20 rows back straining to see; and something really ‘Malmesbury’ not a generic Christmas play. So we created a script with Aldhelm, William, Eilmer and Hannah Twynnoy as the story tellers—a play within a play. But what we also really wanted was the birth of Christ from the Bible; not The Snowman's Christmas Miracle or What the Donkey saw in the Manger One Starlit Night with the Church Mouse.

Our challenge was to take the birth narratives of the gospels of Luke and Matthew, word for word, NRSV, not a word changed or added, and bring them to life in such a way that over 1000 people wouldn’t realise that they had just been listening in to the Bible. This also meant that Simeon’s prophecy of Mary’s anguish (Luke 2:35) turned up before the Magi, and put the agony of the cross into the nativity story with subtlety, as Luke intended.

So is it different this year? No; St Matthew and St Luke seem pretty happy with their scripts and scenes 3-6 remain the same. And although we thought of introducing King Athelstan, we’re holding him back for a future year.

So is it different this year? Yes. The beginning and ending are not the same and we’ve added a new song. For those of you who remember last year, there has been some big change in the Old Man’s life and he won’t be listening to Sport’s report. You’ll just have to wait and see. 

Tickets are still available for 4 of the 6 performances. Young children are particularly welcome to come dressed as a shepherd ,angel, magi, Mary or Joseph.

2½

I sat in a group of about eight or nine vicars during the summer, pity me, none of whom were from this area and one of whom asked this question: ‘Does any one of you seriously want everybody on the planet to become a follower of Jesus?’ As I said ‘yes’ I realised that mine was the only hand that went up in the room—which really rather surprised me. I thought about my answer for a second, just in case I’d made a stupid, idiot mistake, or to consider whether it was a trick question. (I always remember the quiz contestant on TV who when asked who wrote Beethoven’s 5th Symphony answered ‘was it Handel?’) But then my maths A level came charging to my rescue, and I said ‘2½.’ Now it was their turn to look bemused back in my direction. ‘There are approximately 7 billion people on the planet,’ I said,  ‘and approximately 2 billion Christians of one flavour or another. Now if each of the 2 billion Christians were to be so inspired and flowing with love, mercy and truth that 2½ people become followers of Christ though their witness, well that would mean 7 billion followers of Jesus on the planet; job done.’

On reflection it was an over simplistic answer and not much of a mathematical model. On reflection I wonder why some people are vicars. And on reflection I think a more honest answer would have been 3½; because although I might have a half decent chance with the other 2½, I consider the turning of myself into a follower of Jesus to be a lifelong project with plenty of bumps on the road. But I’m glad that I did the maths. Because when somebody asks me why we work so hard to raise our game with our welcome and hospitality at the Abbey, when somebody asks me why we put on richly creative projects like Advent Carols Services and Skate Parks, and when somebody asks me why we cram about 175 people into weekly discipleship groups and will be running Alpha Courses incessantly, I know the answer—2½.

PS Please invite 2½ people to church this Christmas. You bring them along, we’ll tell them about Jesus.