It was the year I was a member of the heavenly host in the community Christmas pageant. I remember it well because we got to climb up on the cloister roof, much to my mother's chagrin. Once in our appointed places, the lights went on and there we were in all our glory as we sang: "Angels, we have heard on high, sweetly singing over the plains..." I don't know how sweetly we sang, but we certainly were on high.

My father, as head of the United Way Fund that year, played Joseph. In contrast to the quiet dignity of years past, his rendition was quite comic... so comic in fact that he remained the talk of the town for several years to come. As with the best of comedy, it was quite unintentional.

There was a new donkey brought in that year for the pageant as the old donkey retired. The new one turned out to be quite feisty. Poor Mary, a senior class girl, had to walk most of the way up the hill to the manger after the donkey bucked her off. But the true hilarity of the scene came when the donkey tried to bite my father in his rear quarters. I have never seen my father move as quickly as he did that evening. So quickly was he moving that he spooked the sheep and oxen that were grazing on the church hillside. They then scattered sending shepherds, high school boys, flying after them.

Gone was the solemnity of the moment, replaced instead by chaos. Those who had gathered to watch the pageant on that Christmas Eve loved it. It was the most exciting pageant in years, indeed ever. Some people disapproved. But most of us felt that the pageant was perfect... that is perfect in the way God makes things perfect. It was a pageant that spoke of God's grace in the face of our flawed (and yes, comic) humanity. It was a pageant which used laughter-God's and ours-as a means of touching hearts and spreading Christmas cheer.

May this Christmas be a time of laughter and celebration for you and your family, both in expected and unexpected ways!

Merry Christmas with love!

 Debbie Rundlett, general presbyter

Now that's not too much to ask.  A Christmas present every mother yearns for.  After all, didn't Jesus call us to be perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect (see Matthew 5:48).  What could he have been thinking of?!

Or does the problem have more to do with how we define perfection?  As in, that dinner was perfect!  Or, that is the perfect outfit!   For the ancients, perfection had a different meaning born out of the Great Commandment to love the Lord our God with all our heart, mind, soul and strength... and our neighbor as ourselves (see Luke 10:27).  Perfection for the ancients was growing in love of God and neighbor even if mistakes are made along the way, especially in the midst of messes.  Be ye perfect... in love!

So, my holy habit for you this week is to practice incarnational love.   Over the twelve days of Christmas, practice loving God, self and others, be it with your heart, mind, strength or soul.  Just choose one means of loving and go for it without worrying about "perfection" in our 21st century sense.  And as you practice incarnational love, may you experience something of God's perfection born of a love that could not be contained.