That’s right. I said I wasn’t going to get too involved. Was going to take it easy.
That’s why I ended up at the Christmas Special planning meeting last night at the church hall. We’re putting a series of extra-special services on, with loads to attract the children, a modern music group (which, as of current date, looks like Syd’s Spoons and Barry’s Banjo) – I tell you, it’s all going to be rocking in Great Tremlett come Advent.
Knowing we need to appeal to a new, savvy, post-modern Generation XII, we’re dumping the old themes of death, judgment, last things and – hurrah! Jesus. Instead, we’ve cunningly stolen an idea from that atheist comedian we’ve not heard of since she did that bus, and subverted it. So we’re going for the following on each of the Sundays:
Advent 1 – There probably wasn’t a donkey. Now relax and get on with walking to Bethlehem.
Advent 2 – There probably wasn’t a stable. Now relax and put your Nativity scene in a cave.
Advent 3 – They probably weren’t 3 Kings. Now relax and deal with our Saviour being greeted on this earth by an unspecified number of astrologers.
Advent 4 – There definitely isn’t a Father Christmas. Is that me, or can I hear crying?
So a fantastic first planning meeting. Now we’ve just got to work out a publicity campaign, write some sketches, prepare some talks, build the animatronic crib scene (sans, naturally, donkey, cattle lowing, sheep, oxen, Pogles, kangaroos, koalas and crowns) and line up a group of counsellors to deal with the psychological fallout.
It’s going to be a great Christmas!