To day we are back to angels, and specifically to St Michael.

The sculpture of St Michel defeating the devil on the wall of Coventry cathedral is strking and mysterious.  From the first time I saw it - at about the age of 8 or 9 - I was intrigued and entranced by it.

The whole 'principalities and powers' concept is one that provokes much thought, and even more controversy, among theologians and ordinary people of faith.

The Victorians were quite big on angels, and with high infant mortality, invoking guardian angels to watch over babies and children, healthy, sick, dying and even dead, was widespread.  Even in the 1960s and 1970s such influences persisted...

Four corners to my bed,

four angels round my head -

one to read, and one to write,

and two to guard my bed at night.

Or, as we used to pray at the end of every day at primary school:

Lord, keep us safe this night,

secure from all our fears,

may angels guard around us keep,

til morning light appears.

I'm not convinced about guardian angels, if by that we mean one assigned to watch over me and me alone. But I am convinced that, in some way or other, God's mysterious messengers do break through in to my everyday in unexpected ways.

So, finally for today, the prayer from the book:

O Michael of the angals and the righteous in heaven, shield thou my soul with the shade of thy wing, shield thou my soul on earth and in heaven.  From foes upon earth, from foes beneath earth, from foes in concealment protect and encircle my soul 'neath thy wing, oh my soul with the shade of thy wing.

Christmas cards.  Some very spiritual. Some hilariously funny. Some large. Some small. What they have in common is that someone has made a choice to send them. I love the variety, I love reading the messages and thinking of the people who have sent them. I love that, at this time of year, we make a point of keeping in touch with people, sometimes those who we last saw in life a VERY long time ago!

From flatulent felines via festive scenes to cartoon nativities - they have brought laughter and love into my home, which is, surely, very appropriate for the season we are marking. 

So, if I were to sum today's reflection it'd be 'faith without deeds is dead'.

I could waffle on, but it's been a busy weekend, and it's not over yet, so I'l keep it short and sweet!

The prayer is this:

Gracious and compassionate one, may I live a life that reflects your love and generosity to all.  May I know your power moving through me so that your kingdom will come in the world which I live. Amen.

In my view, that was THE best Bible Study Christmas party ever, even though just an hour before it began it looked as if it might be an unmitigated disaster. After an overnight dusting of snow, treacherous roads and paths, and persistant sleety rain, two of our stalwarts wisely took the decision to stay home. Would anyone else come?  Yes!

In the end, nine Iranians and I were sat around my kitchen table, which was a glorious muddle of Bibles, colouring, sticking and mugs of tea!

We began by asking the children to tell us the Christmas story, which they did with aplomb.  This, on its own opened fascinating conversations about who the magi were, what on earth is myrrh, and much more.

Next we read the account in Luke, and I invited folk to comment on what was 'missing' or 'different' from the story we had shared... the bare mention of Joseph, the addition of the visit to Elizabeth, the lack of innkeeper or kings.  We pondered what Luke's aim was and why he told his story as he did.

Then it was on to Matthew and the same process... who or what were these magi, however many there were, and where did they come from? Herod as a puppet-king. Joseph dreaming about angels.

Briefly, as time ran out, we looked at the start of John, with its beautiful poetry, and noted that Mark simply plunges in with a fuilly grown Jesus being baptised by John.

After all that, we shared some yummy food, chatted more generally and covered all sorts of topics as diverse as premarital sex, university tuition fees, Brexit, how I was called by God to ministry, the Trinity and much, much more.

Some days ministry is just the best role on the planet - and this is one of them.

The end of last night's festive meal - which I think went well, and I certainly enjoyed myself.

Berries with edible glitter - or are they glitterberries?

We had a lovely time, fusing oodles of cultures and customs, so that we had Yorkshire puddings and turkey, skirly and mashed potatoes, a rutabaga torte and onion gravy, nut roast and cauliflower... and much more.  And, even though I love them, not brussels sprout in sight!

I loved that in terms of nationality and parentage we were so multinational, multi-ethnic and multi-age... the youngest was 15... the oldest, well, it it wisnae me! All young at heart, eachwith stories of our own family customs.

I think B summed it up best for me.  Handing over a bowl of delicious skirly (an Aberdonian delicacy) she said, 'for me, this is always Christmas'.  R told us that her family always begin Christmas Day by singing 'happy birthday' to Jesus. For others the things that 'make' Christmas are different, and equally important.

We started our meal yesterday with a toast in 'fake Buck's Fizz' and concluded it (because we kept forgetting to do so) by linking hands 'Auld Lang Syne' style to pull our crackers.  The jokes were, as ever, corny - but it wouldn't be Christmas without them... or glitter, or a table groaning under the weight of food...

Thank you so much to F, R, B, L and A for sharing a fun night in.