Sr. Janet Fearns

Another year has gone by and once again shop windows are festooned with lights, tinsel and fake snow. Rome is no different, except that, with the beginning of Advent, the preparations begin for the massive Crib in St. Peter’s Square. It takes a full month to build and only the erection of the scaffolding is open to public scrutiny. A canvas screen is constructed to shield the activity inside. Workmen go backwards and forwards and, as Christmas draws nearer, young women join the procession, carrying bits of greenery and boxes of unidentifiable objects. Sounds of hammering fill the air.

Police try to keep would-be spies at a distance, but no sooner are the crowds moved away from one place than they re-form in anotherIn true Italian fashion, the police merely shrug their shoulders and admit defeat. Even they know that, once they have gone and the workmen have knocked off for the day, inquisitive fingers will try to part the seams of the canvas, making a split that, as the days pass by, grows larger and more revealing. Yet the unfolding scene is still difficult to make out...that is, until one or two days before Christmas, when the flurry of activity suddenly increases.

There are plenty of rumours about the design of the Crib. The Embassy to the Holy See, which is taking its turn to sponsor the building of the Crib, has facilitated several items of leaked information, to which the construction team and speculation have added their own riches. In fact, it will only be revealed in all its splendour on Christmas Eve. Until then, much is guesswork.

What is certain is that the Crib will be beautiful and will have life-sized figures. It might also have a working mill, as in 2005, or a water wheel, as in 2004. The stable might closely resemble a house, or it might actually be the home of ox and ass. Who knows before Christmas Eve?

…and the Christmas tree… it will be magnificent. It will soar high above the Crib carried from its home forest by a team of fire fighters in their gleaming fire engine. It will be their privilege to use the turntable and extendable ladder to ensure that the tree is perfectly positioned before the veritable army of decorators moves in to festoon the branches with hundreds of white lights and silver streamers. Last year, the Pope’s new fire engine was placed at the bottom of the tree for all to see and enjoy. It’s now doing service in Vatican City, but as all families put their presents at the foot of the tree, the Papal Household was no exception.

The tree will be beautiful. It will catch the light from the rising and the setting sun, the streamers shimmering in the breeze. Sometimes it is difficult to work out if the lights have been switched on, or whether the brilliance is just the reflection of the sunlight.

There is something so fresh and exciting about coming along to St. Peter’s for Midnight Mass and seeing the tree lit up in all its glory, towering over the top of the newly exposed crib. The carabinieri who had, only hours beforehand, been moving people away from the screens are now diverting their patrols in order to stand and chat to each other about the Nativity scene at last visible to all. They are waving their arms and pointing out its features along with the tourists, the Mass-goers and the pilgrims who couldn’t fit inside the basilica.

There will soon be the excitement of Christmas Eve and the unique experience of heading to St. Peter’s on Christmas morning, not only for Mass, but also to wish the Pope a Happy Christmas. Many thousands will gather to hear him and to receive his own greetings in as many languages as he can manage. There will be banners, shouts, cheers and many chants of “Ben-e-det-to!” …but in the middle of it all, there is the memory of a new baby, born to a young woman in a stable in an obscure town in Israel.

Without the Baby Jesus, there wouldn’t be a Crib or a Christmas tree, carols or a Christmas morning.