Jejus

I watched a lovely video today shared by a friend on Facebook.  I'll let you watch for yourself, but I want you to notice the voice of the youngest narrator.  Telling The Christmas Story, the little narrator softly mangles the names and puts a child's "spin" on the story:

"They called the baby Jejus and they loved him.  And he has two daddies, God and Joses!  They both needed to look after the baby."

My friends know I have long had trouble with the literal judeo-christian history of/with God.   But I love the idea of Jejus!  I can hang with Jejus!

I have heard that when he grew up, Jejus told some grownups once, to be "as little children".

As children, we experiment.  We fall down a lot.  Mary's belly makes us laugh. Presents we try to give somehow end up tumbling down in the hay.  A handshake becomes an opportunity for a playful armwrestle. We build sandcastles and we become caped crusaders.  And in our play we rehearse the lines of living we see around us.

We are constantly learning, looking at the world around us and asking why, why, why. We measure our growth often, stretching to our full heights with that book balanced on our heads.  We aren't done yet.

We imperfectly re-tell the story of Jejus we have heard, and wonder with surprise at the fact that he had two daddies. And it goes without saying that sensibly, they both needed to look after him.

We identify with baby Jejus and we understand that it takes both daddies, God and Joses to look after things.

And of course, the most joyful part of the story is always the arrival of the magic:  the magic of angels, stars, sheep and shepherds, and presents from wise men who have come from far away.

"Then there was a party!"

There.  A happy, little story about a baby named Jejus.  Not as weird as some stories I've heard lately.