Christmas makes me feel a little vulnerable: the pressure to get it right; the sheer, spiraling cost of it; the need for everyone to be jolly. What if I fail? It makes me want to run away.
I went for a run recently, in the countryside, and found myself in a field where, in the distance, I could see a herd of small cows grazing peacefully. It was rather lovely.
Or it was until I got close to the cows, who looked a lot bigger now, and they started to chase me. I was, literally, hunted by cows and I did not like it one bit, so I ran quicker. But so did the cows. They followed behind me and hemmed me in.
In the end there was nothing to do but face them down. So I stopped, and turned, and I yelled, ‘COWS! GO AWAY COWS!’ And as the cows regarded me with a look of deepest puzzlement, I ran off as fast as my stumpy, elderly legs could carry me. Which, when I’m feeling vulnerable, is surprisingly fast.
Now, of course, not everyone is afraid of large animals. Shepherds, for example. In the Bible, before he slew the giant Goliath, David was a shepherd prepared to fight fearlessly against any lion or bear that threatened his flock.
It’s a surprise, then, that in the Christmas story the shepherds who were the first people to learn of the birth of Jesus were the opposite of fearless. Faced by an angel shining with the glory of the Lord, they were terrified.
But this is the paradox of Christmas: God, the creator of everything and somehow, suddenly here on earth, turns out not to be a conqueror, but a baby. The announcement was terrifying but the reality just terrifyingly frail. The brave shepherds felt afraid and vulnerable, but so too was God With Us, tiny and vulnerable and weak.
So if Christmas, or any big, compulsory moment of collective happiness strikes a certain terror into your heart, as it does mine, and makes you want to run away, I reckon it’s worth remembering that God has felt vulnerable too. Not because of cows, admittedly, but because of a big, new, scary world. And that is strangely and wonderfully reassuring. Deep breath then, as the festivities draw on – and Happy Christmas.
The cow story is true. These are the very cows.
It is also true that I find Christmas quite stressful.