Today I told the Christmas story, not to children but to adults, and it wasn't the nice clean sanitised tinsel adorned version. I told it to and with a group of folk who come to "The Comfort Zone" , a drop in for those who are homeless or struggling to make ends meet in bed-sit land. They didn't sit quietly and meekly listening, but chipped in with thoughts and questions as we struggled to piece together how this might be good news for them. The story took on a gritty reality as we considered a God who would come to the poor and the outcast, one telling remark was that a stable would be better than a park bench- he had a point.
After we'd told the story we sang a couple of carols ( requested ones) and I offered folk the chance to make a prayer by lighting a candle, and taking one with them to light on Christmas Day if they wanted to. Many did so, most taking time in the quiet to think and pray as they lit their candles and stood to p0nder them quietly for a moment before moving away. Earlier in the morning they'd received gifts of gloves scarves and socks but to one man the candle was the most precious thing he had received- he spoke of how he'd light it on Christmas Day and what it would mean to him. It was not a neat and tidy Carol Service, I was humbled by it, and somehow Christmas became more real for me this year because of it.