“In that day the branch… will be beautiful and glorious.” (Isaiah 4:2)

 

In all literal and exegetical honesty, the colourful 8^th century BC Jewish prophet, political commentator and interpreter of times did not have my improvised Christmas decoration in mind when he envisaged the messianic age that was to come, and so I apologise to his memory, heritage, and soul for misquoting his ancient words from Tanakh or Old Testament. Yet a simple inglorious earthly branch of a tree has become important to me at Advent and Christmas for a few years.

This began in December 2016. It was the year when the family home in Wainscott, New York, had been sold. Things were breaking up and effects great and small were going into storage. and elsewhere. I had moved into the apartment on the church campus. My eventually to be former wife had returned to her home town in Florida, and my daughter was in university. The “church flat” (as I lovingly call it to this day) was quite adorable, but it was temporary as there were expensive plans to refurbish the whole building as a permanent rectory. A strategic and financial mistake in my opinion, given knowledge hidden from the church Vestry, but that discussion, dear reader, is for another day.

The builders were poised to move in, and in September 2016 I moved out to a delightful house in Sagaponack – just a few miles east. The property of the generous and supportive Topping family - friends above all else - who were umpteen generations horse farmers in the area. (RIP Patsy Topping, a legend in the horse eventing world, 1946-2022. I miss her dearly.) A temporary situation. Me, Moose the labrador and my closest friend ever (also RIP,) and Harry and Lily the cats. Over Christmas. Camping.

As the feast approached, I was not really in a festive spirit. I could not replicate the decorations of decades that my family had insisted upon, but I wanted to do something. And so, I cut a light branch from a bush in the garden, sprayed it, and hung some colour, placing wrapped gifts around it. And it made me happy. In fact, after the second – or was it third - glass of Bordeaux it pleased me even more. And it became my “Christmas Branch.” Tradition was established.

Since those simple days I have, most years, yet not all for reasons known to some but not all, taken a sprig and made a decoration. With varying degrees of attractiveness. The final product is less to do with aesthetics than the simple pleasure of making something. And brightening a home. So perhaps it is beautiful in its own way. And given the world-changing announcement of Christmas – it suggests humble glory on a most unisaianic way.