The True Beauty of this Season is that Christmas is a Story of Hope for the Broken.
BY SAMUEL IGA ZINUNULA
I once read a joke somewhere of a father asking his son, “Son, where do you want to be when Jesus comes back?” “In advertising,” the son replied, without hesitation.Growing up, in the Seventies, the one song that used to really frighten me went on about how each one of us should prepare for the return of Jesus. “No one will know the days.
No one will know the time. Some will be drinking alcohol. …….. Some will hide under the bed. Some will request the ground to swallow them (for fear of the wrath of The Son of God).” My siblings, knowing how the song frightened me, would sing or recite it every now and then to frighten and make me cry whenever I annoyed them. I would imagine and see in my mind’s eye the splitting hills, the rising flood water, and the raging fires that the song’s lyrics conjured up.
“These words I am telling you are true. I have not gone mad. Repent. Repent. You, Muslims, hold onto the Quran. You Christians, stick to the scriptures. I am not mad. Repent.”
The only picture I have of me as a boy, I was carrying a large bible. I think the father in the joke meant to have his son reflect on the necessity for piety so that at the return of Jesus he, the son, would not have to hide under the bed. Alas! The son was thinking of the best way earnings could be made. Money moves the world. I ask myself, what would Jesus want it to be like? Would His cabinet, the 12 disciples and other followers convince Him to take out space in the media channels to announce His coming?
Imagine the national airline striking a deal monopolizing the rights to fly Him to different cities of the county and the continent! What would the other airlines do to convince the monopoly holder to choose them for collaboration for Jesus and his followers to accumulate global air miles? Imagine that man’s son had a contract for all the outdoor advertising in the country! What concessions would be negotiated? What would the advertisements say in the different localities? In one city, “Yeshu naija nyenkya kare.” In another, “Yezu bino dikini” and in yet another, “Yesu anakuja kesho.” “And he will be here for only two hours. In the City Hall.”
And all would add, “Last-minute tickets can still be bought online at www.comeseehim. live”. Or, would Jesus rather go about quietly, stealthily almost? Would he manage it? Or would He rather take advantage of social media, main media, and street media, to amplify His presence? Who would handle His social media handle?
Now I am older. That song no longer plays on the radio. My siblings are scattered or gone, back to their maker. I no longer wail at the prospect of the earth splitting and swallowing me alive. Now, fifty Christmases later, the billboards are blinking with neon lights. Radio stations are outshining each other. Loudspeakers are blaring.
Street preachers are preaching, amplified through bluetooth speakers and wireless microphones. All kinds of goods and services are being advertised and one is lost for choice, if one has some dimes to spend. Another is at pains to find a coin to spend to pick up an item for their loved one, or just a crust of bread for the day.
It is Christmas time! How would Jesus have it be? Should the family calf fattened over the year be slaughtered for the family to engorge? Should the salary earner take out a salary loan to treat his close ones to a Christmas retreat? What really is Christmas today?
