The diary of a saint

Yesterday I brought you the opening of one of the very first Christmas family newsletters ever sent, that written by Joseph the carpenter, husband of Mary, mother of God, though not actually father of God himself. We had just got to the interesting events in the stable at Bethlehem...

"It wasn't too bad an inn stable, as inn stables go, writes St Joseph, even though we were sometimes woken in the night by the lowing of the asses and the oxen. The camels were fine. I have nothing against camels. And it was just as well that I had mended the manger with some old sycamore planks that had been lying around because it came in very useful as a sort of table-top for having a baby! Mary, bless her, is very uncomplaining about putting up with things, and although we had duly registered under Caesar Augustus's decree, I felt we shouldn't push on back to Nazareth before the baby was born, as she was ever so big with child by now – huge, I would say.

One night, in the stable, when we couldn't sleep, because of some great star shining into our eyes through a hole in the roof which kept us awake, I tried to entertain her with some light conversation.

'So, who do you think the father is?' I said to her, not in a challenging way, more in a chatty kind of way, because she had this bee in her bonnet that it was going to be the son of God, and I had this bee in my bonnet that it was going to be my baby. We all know that when women are going to have babies, they get funny ideas. And at least I would rather be told that the real father was God, rather than Simeon the fishmonger or Philip the camel-driver.

'I am sure it is God,' she said.

And I was just about to say 'And my mother's the Queen of Sheba,' when a strange thing happened. The door opened, and three wise men came in. And they said: 'We have been following the star. Is this where the son of God has been born?' And Mary said: 'No, not yet, but very soon.' And they said: 'Righty ho, we'll be back in a jiffy.' And after that things started to happen in quick succession – Mary had the baby, the asses and the oxen went on lowing, the camels slept throughout, the heavens shone in glory all around, some shepherds came and made a hell of a mess, and then who do you think came dancing in?

That's right.

The inn-keeper.

'I'm sorry, Joseph,' he said, 'but the people in the inn are complaining about the noise in the stable. They can't get to sleep what with all the shepherds and foreign visitors and God knows what. Can't you keep it down? I'd hate to have to ask you to move on, especially as I hear you're quite well off for gold, myrrh, etc nowadays...'

Typical of inn-keepers, isn't it? Obsequious when you've got money, contemptuous when you haven't, and distressingly undecided what to do when they don't know what you've got. Anyway, we used the gold to move out to a proper room and then the angel of the Lord came to tell us to move to Egypt till things blew over...

People who have never been visited by an angel often ask me: 'What is it like when an angel of the Lord comes and tells you what to do? What do they look like? Are they very bossy? Or quite friendly?'

It's hard to say, really. They just speak to you very softly and you know you have got to do what they say. Bit like a mother-in-law, really. No, I didn't mean that. All I know is that you don't argue with an angel of the Lord. You don't even answer back. I once asked an angel if Jesus was really the son of God and he gave me such a look – blank and steely – that I never asked again...

Egypt was all right. They're not great carpenters there. So I got a lot of work. Then we came back. Now we've settled down again and Jesus is doing very well at secondary school, which isn't bad for a one-year-old baby. His teacher called me in the other day and said, 'We can't get over Jesus. He's a one-year-old baby. Yet he's passed all the exams that 15-year-olds take. Not only that, but he's cleverer than all the teachers. He's a divine child.'

'Divine? You don't know the half of it,' I told her.

So there we are. We have a really clever boy on our hands. Mary wants the boy Jesus to go to university. I want him to follow me into the carpenter's shop. What does Jesus want? He says he wants to save the world and die for our sins. What do I say? I say, teenagers, what do they know? Especially as he's a one-year-old teenager..."

There is much more along the same lines. I'll bring you some next Christmas, if I remember