Uncle Bill

It's always around the holiday when I realize that I may be a tad bit religiously-challenged. Like this past Easter, when my son asked me about the connection between decorating eggs; freakishly large, home-invading, candy-hiding bunnies; and the death of Jesus. It only got worse when he wanted to know why we refer to the day someone died as "Good Friday." I managed to flub my way through that one, but only because he believes that any day they close school is a "good" day. But, then he stumped me when he asked, "What ever happened to 'Baby Jake?'"

After my initial confusion over how he managed to watch a Bette Davis movie, it finally dawned on me that he meant "Baby Jesus;" and was referring to last year's pre-Christmas fiasco when he asked me why there was no baby in the nativity scene in front of the local church. I told him that perhaps Baby Jesus was stolen. Why else wouldn't he be there with Joseph and Mary?

We lived in the city at the time, so I figured the theft of a nativity figure was completely plausible. We eventually got the real story, but only after my son asked the local priest if the police had caught the baby-snatcher yet. That's when we learned that Baby Jesus (a/k/a "Jake") doesn't traditionally show up in nativity scenes until midnight on the 25th. (Doh! And Mommy hasn't traditionally shown up in a church since ....?)

My latest display of ecclesiastical ineptitude came to bear this fall at my grandmother's funeral, where my son was in complete awe of the minister. I greatly appreciated his reverence until he asked how the Prime Minister could possibly have known his great grandmother when she didn't live in London, but at a "grandma hotel" in upstate New York. He later pointed to the black book carried by the minister (who had now clarified that he did not actually run the country of England), and inquired "what's that book?"

I tried to recover by telling my son, and the now "less than prime" minister, that we did have a copy of "that book" (a/k/a the "Bible"), only it was on a CD. This caused my entire family to look at me with raised eyebrows, as they knew the closest thing we had to a religion in our family was sports. I reminded them that the Bible is literature, and that the only bad grades I ever received as an English major were due to my inability to recognize a religious symbol, metaphor, allegory or allusion whenever I stumbled over combustible shrubbery, diabolical fruit or murderously competitive siblings.

This is all a bit worrisome for my son's own religious and literary future, and in fact, caused me to go online to see if they have an unabridged CD Bible series. Clearly, our single-CD version was not having much of an impact. Yet, in retrospect, one huge advantage of living a religiously-challenged life is that it allows you the freedom to be tolerant of everyone else's beliefs; because you're not out there promoting your own version, and therefore, able to participate open-mindedly in celebrations by others. So whatever religious path my son may choose to take in the future, if any at all, I will support him.

In the short term, however, I hope to put off the bigger questions and stand behind my son's right to believe unequivocally in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Although, I'm not too keen on the whole Tooth Fairy thing. Do you know how much kids get per tooth these days? They might as well start their own college fund. But a friend of mine once tried to deflect the whole tooth-for-money blackmail scheme by explaining to her daughter that she was actually the Tooth Fairy who left the money. Of course, in that wonderful innocence only a child can muster, her daughter looked her straight in the eye and said, "No wonder you're tired all the time. It must be tough going to all the other kid's houses every night."

Donkeys are very special animals. Most people have enjoyed a donkey ride at the seaside, zoo or farm at one time or another as a child, a tradition started during the Victorian times. How could anyone resist those cute sad faces, and those extraordinary long eyelashes? But donkeys are special for another reason.

If you are familiar with the story of the nativity you will know that Mary and Joseph had to travel from Nazareth to Bethlehem to be counted, a journey of around 95 kilometres. This was no small distance back in those days when there weren't any motorized vehicles. Additionally the journey was over a hilly terrain, which made the long journey even harder.

Poor Mary was heavily pregnant and the prospect of such a journey must have been daunting. It's little wonder then that she rode a donkey on this long journey.

A special thing happened to the little donkey as it carried it's precious load. As the donkey carried Mary and the unborn Son of God, a mark of the crucifix appeared on the donkey's back. The top of the cross starting on the donkey's neck and running down his spine. The shorter line of the cross ran along the donkey's shoulder blades. The sign of the crucifix was given as a reward to the little donkey for the hard work it had endured, getting pregnant Mary safely to Bethlehem.

To this day the little donkey is honored for what he did for God, and all the donkeys bear the sign of the crucifix on their backs. You don't usually see the cross because donkeys at the beach are usually wearing saddles, so small children can ride them. Maybe this is why donkeys look so sad, because their special mark is hidden.