Whose Baby?: Therapy for the Christmas Season in Twelve Parts

By Ben Pugh

Do you struggle to get into the Christmas spirit? Do you dislike all the trappings of the season and cannot bear its crass materialism? This book is written by a theologian who feels that way too. As an antidote, Ben Pugh tries to take us back to that very first Christmas as described in the Gospels. Particular moments in the story are vividly brought to life and paralleled with the present day. Using good scholarship, Pugh tries to get the reader to imagine actually being there, and suggests a simple prayer of response at the end of each chapter. The chapters are short, the book is small, and the therapy it offers might be just what you need.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Resource Publications
• Release date: Dec 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781498206075

Ben Pugh

Ben Pugh first trained as an artist with the University for the Creative Arts in Farnham, UK, and still has a love for creative endeavors, especially in written form. After becoming a Christian at the age of nineteen, his love of writing combined with a newfound love for the Bible and a growing interest in Christian doctrine, especially the life-changing truth that we are justified in Christ. In time, this interest in theology led to an MA from Manchester University and a PhD from Bangor. His first full-time academic role was as Director of Postgraduate Studies at Mattersey Hall College which, at the time, could boast of having the largest graduate school of its kind in Europe. However, Ben longed for more time in the classroom engaging with students, and, of course, more time to write theology. Along came the offer of the position of Lecturer in Theology at Cliff College, Derbyshire, where he has been happily employed since 2012. Ben is blessed to work at a desk in what was once Victorian country house from which he can look out across the second most visited national park in the world--Peak District.

Book preview

Whose Baby?

Therapy for the Christmas Season in Twelve Parts

Ben Pugh

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Whose Baby?

Therapy for the Christmas Season in Twelve Parts

Copyright © 2014 Ben Pugh. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher. Write: Permissions, Wipf and Stock Publishers, 199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3, Eugene, OR 97401.

Unless otherwise stated, Scripture quotations taken from the New King James Version (NKJV). Copyright © 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Resource Publications

An Imprint of Wipf and Stock Publishers

199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3

Eugene, OR 97401

www.wipfandstock.com

isbn 13: 978-1-4982-0606-8

eisbn 13: 978-1-4982-0607-5

Manufactured in the U.S.A.

To the people of Eagle’s Nest Church

Preface

There is rather a lot that I struggle to like about Christmas. Every year I hope, indeed I pray, that this Christmas will be truly the restful, warm, cosy experience that it is always billed as being.

When I was a bachelor I felt like I simply wasn’t part of the party, and I thought this was because I had no kids. I thought that was the reason for my complete and utter horror at the way all the shops fill up with sweaty stressed-out people. I thought the absence of kids in my life was the reason why I found the temporary Christmas-themed shops and tacky Christmas lights so insulting to my eyes. When you’ve got kids, then you’ll understand, I thought. Christmas is for the children. It’s all about seeing their bright eyes when you turn the Christmas tree lights on, and their excited faces when they open their presents.

Have a great Christmas, people would say on the last day of work as I gathered up my little clutch of cards with their pictures of robins, snowy Victorian streets, jolly bearded men that looked like they’d had one sherry too many, and contrasting wiry depictions of three oriental kings and their camels against a starry night. I would put my cards on the yarn with my fellow bachelors’ back at the house. If I had a lot of them and had to move some of John’s out of the way, there would be a momentary swell of pride. Merry Christmas, the cards would all shout back at me. One by one my house mates would pack their bags and be off somewhere for a family Christmas. I too would normally go somewhere, at least for Christmas Day, perhaps to my brother’s. It would not take long before I would realize that I was not having a merry Christmas, just a normal one: a welcome break from work but that was all. In every other respect, I was a good deal less happy than normal.

Perhaps the main reason for this was that Christmas was clearly not only a family time but a romantic high point in the year also, comparable in fact to Valentine’s Day, which follows so hot on its heels. Having no one special in my life, it was impossible not to feel sad, much as I would not have begrudged lovers their romantic moments by the fire in their matching reindeer sweaters. The happy times tended to be the few small moments of spiritual enrichment. For example, our church was so cutting edge it almost never sang any old hymns—except at Christmas, but the theological and poetic riches of Joy to the World and Hark the Herald were always a breath of fresh air to me.

Well, now I am happily married with three gorgeous children. Have I found this merry and happy yuletide gladness? Have I discovered the magic of Christmas? We have two open fires and the occasional robin in the garden and, yes, our kids’ faces really do light up like I imagined when Christmas morning arrives. We have even had snow. The conditions are ideal in which to finally slough off my humbug spirit and enter into the spirit of Christmas.

I still find it to be a good break from work, a chance to do lots of completely un-work-related things. In fact, it is the only point in the year when as a nation we (more or less) stop. With January sales now beginning the day after Christmas (we call it Boxing Day in the UK) and so many shops open as normal all the way up