What is supposed to be our response to the three so-called wise men proffering material items to not only an infant, but one who would become the representation of everything spiritual of mankind’s existence in this life and the next?
Remembering the plucky lad’s last words were, “forgive them father, for they know not what they do.” A sentiment updated for the disco set by a Motown group who sang, “If You Don’t Know Me By Now.”
Picture the historical scene with Joseph wearing an expression of cosmic incredu-lity saying, “Lotteries will seem plausible after this, who would have thought, it would be me. Even his followers looked a bit sheepish because they realise it could be me.”
Joseph returned home one night and exclaimed, “Christ, you’re pregnant. And I wasn’t even there.”
It became known as the definitive case of premature ejaculation known to man. And because of this story, Christmas should be a time forgiving and not for giving.
Imagine the scene, a little baby in a manger in a badly lit, straw-thatched-roof stable with incense candles all over the place. The Health and Safety geezer saying, “You can’t have this, it contravenes the standards as laid down in Hebrews,”
then one of the wise men chirps up and says, “You’ll need a good insurance scheme for the lad, after all, carpentry is a dangerous profession. I can offer you good terms for you and the messiah there.”
All in all, the three wise men were offering Bold, Fair and Frank advice to the happy couple about their premiums and such like.
One of the other persons in a sage voice declared that “even Jesus mustn’t go against the grain or he’ll get nailed like a common thief. And, remember, crucifix-ion, no fuss, they do exactly what it says in the good book thereon.” This has been read as wise words of warning about Jesus’s future as dissident. He even tried to get the parents of the chosen one to sign the conform but they were having none of it. “He’ll be his own man with the obvious caveat of being the son of the supreme being and being party to the wondrous power therein.”
Also one of the gifts was a Post-Nativity mobile that again foretold Jesus’s future: a pointing finger aiming at a wooden rendition of the cross with the legend, “It will be you.”
The throng became agitated when their number swelled and a jester had to be ejected for acting the goat. He was unceremoniously thrown out before he could say more than, “but…”
Then someone had another gift, it was something that ticked. All the throng were rooted to the spot, “what kind of miracle can this be?” one asked.
“It’s no miracle, too early, besides look at the label; it’s from Herod’s, throw it in the well.” said Joseph in his new found wisdom and suspicion of high-class presents.
The lavishly wrapped parcel was duly thrown down the well and moments later there was a spout of water that reached far into the sky, borne of a loud bang.
“Well, that could have ripped us all a new one!” said Luke as he continued to write.
“What’s that you are writing good Luke?” inquired Mary as she continued to lapse in and out of consciousness.
“It’s only the gospel truth of what is taking place here and now.” The lad replied as the light finally faded and the throng dispersed into history.