I remember vividly the birth of my own children. Two natural births (although they did not look natural from where I was standing) and one C-Section. I remember how Maya felt so light – as light as a bird in comparison to Ben who was a toddler – and nearly launching her though the ceiling as I lifted her for the first time. I remember calling around family in the early hours of the morning with the good news. I remember the relief for Ro, and the tiredness. Most of all though, I remember feeling like a spare part. Ours is the generation where fathers were encouraged, expected even to be in the room alongside their partners, rather than pacing the corridors with a cigar in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. Overall, I think that this is a good thing. However, whilst I know that Ro wanted me to be there to provide comfort and have my hand squeezed until my knuckles cracked, I felt like a spare part. Of all the people in the room, I was the least qualified or able to bring any advice or relief, apart from sorting out arrangements to ensure that Mum and baby were comfortable, and able to make the journey home.
In truth, I had an easy job of it. Joseph however in the Christmas story, has all this to contend with, plus the anxiety of bonding with a child that was not his and who he had, in effect, adopted. Arrangements before the birth were less than ideal, and it is more than likely given the Palestinian culture at the time, that he would have had to negotiate safe passage from Nazareth to Bethlehem, try to find somewhere to stay, be there for the birth (there is little indication of a midwife). To complicate things further, he had to contend with a visit from the shepherds and no doubt others who wanted to see the infant Jesus as the news spread. Latterly he contends with the visit of the wise men. More than that, he becomes aware that Herod is planning a campaign of ethnic cleansing as he seeks to kill all infant males and quash any threat to his authority and power. Poor Joseph. I think that he must feel like a chameleon in a box of smarties as he manages the situation and tries to adapt. He is different things to different people. He is Mary’s partner (the scriptures speak of Mary as one who he was betrothed to but not yet married to; he is the adopted father to Jesus the Christ-child; he is the breadwinner and provider; and he is the one who, for the sake of the family’s survival, needs to cast a suspicious eye over who visits, and make preparations for them all to travel to Egypt as refugees.
Sometimes, things happen in life that lead us to feel like a chameleon in a box of Smarties. It is such a lovely description and was given to me by a South-African grandparent who drops off and picks up his grandchild up from my son’s school. He always blesses me with a ‘Morning pastor’, said with quite a thick accent. I reply good morning back and ask him how he is. Often, he replies, ‘I am like a rose in the summer!’ But one morning he stopped me, and said, considering our ongoing Brexit nightmare-pantomime-for-the-world-to-see, ‘Your politicians, they must feel like chameleons in a box of smarties.’ I think that he was saying that when faced with a range of options, and thinking about where people should place their loyalties, many of our politicians are in a state of utter confusion. I suspect heavily that some are making decisions based on their own political futures, rather than putting themselves at the service of the country.
There will always be times in life when we must decide what we really stand for, times when we are surrounded, like Joseph, with a range of options. I think that Joseph must have felt like a chameleon in a box of smarties as he discerned who he was and how he would respond to his changing situation. Would he run? No-one would have blamed him for staying for the birth and then disappearing. Thankfully Joseph chooses to do the right thing. He puts the security of the family, and Jesus above all else, and takes on the role of being Jesus’ earthly father. Consequently, I think it a great shame, especially in an age where families are growing ever complex through relationship breakdowns and the emergency of step-relatives, that we do not make more of Joseph’s willingness to take on this new role; a role that will extend through the rest of his life.
This Christmas I pray for all those who find themselves in new situations, particularly those who in committing to a new partner are also taking on roles as a step-father or mother, and for those whose lives who are impacted by political decisions and discussions that leave them vulnerable. Whilst I am remembering the needs of mothers, I am also thinking about the role of men in the Christmas story: in particular, Joseph. Without Joseph’s intervention, the story would, most likely end with the gruesome and untimely death of the Christ-child. However, because Joseph is there, things turn out differently. There are times in our lives when, surrounded by a range of options, and the temptation to look after one’s own interests, that we need to make life-changing decisions about who we are, and the stand that we will make.
God be with you this Christmas as you negotiate everything that is before you.
I share this prayer from the Methodist Church website, which I find helpful:
Christmas stress
Lord we all expect so
much from the festivities of Christmas.
We always think that other people are having the perfect time
with families round the tree.
But there can be so much stress, Lord.
We pray for families who only see each other at Christmas:
they may all want to celebrate in quite different ways.
We think about the empty places at tables
where loved ones no longer sit.
We pray for new family groups making their own traditions;
For those in the armed forces
and others who have to be away from home,
or just at work.
Lord, help us all to relax and rejoice
in the true meaning of the season.
Amen.