{"id":3278,"date":"2015-12-05T03:00:15","date_gmt":"2015-12-05T08:00:15","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/admin.patheos.com\/blogs\/sermonsfromthemound\/?p=3278"},"modified":"2015-12-11T09:02:12","modified_gmt":"2015-12-11T14:02:12","slug":"the-gift-of-naughtiness","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/sermonsfromthemound\/2015\/12\/the-gift-of-naughtiness\/","title":{"rendered":"The Gift of Naughtiness"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

\"Old<\/a>
Old Father Christmas [CC0, Public Domain]<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/p>
\n

Yuletide was approaching, and the elven helpers of the Yulefather, who goes by many names (Old Father Christmas<\/a>, Captain Christmas, the Lord of Misrule,\u00a0Joulupukki<\/a>, St Nicholas, and other names unknown to humankind) were preparing the magic to send out gifts of magic to human children.<\/p>\n

Contrary to popular folklore, it is not the actual Christmas presents that are delivered by the old man with the sleigh, but more intangible gifts: the ability to see magic and mystery in the world; the ability to play, to laugh, to sing, and to be merry.<\/p>\n

A sparkling, tangled, constantly shifting and changing cloud of magical energy was forming around Korvatunturi, the magic hill in Finland where Old Father Christmas lives. Occasionally it would get out of control, and the sky over much of the Northern hemisphere would be filled with great sweeping curtains of green and purple light. It is said that\u00a0Korvatunturi<\/a>\u00a0is shaped like an ear, so that Old Father Christmas can hear the wishes of children.<\/p>\n

The elves were getting ready to carry the magic to all parts of the Earth when they heard a terrible rumour. The children of North America were being beset with a hideous interloper,\u00a0designed to crush the curiosity and magic out of children: the Elf on the Shelf<\/a>. This simpering red impostor would move around the house, keeping an eye on the children\u2019s behaviour, and reporting their behaviour back to \u201cSanta Claus\u201d \u2013 a red-clad impostor representing the spirit of consumerism and capitalism, who seeks to supplant Old Father Christmas in human hearts.<\/p>\n

When this news reached the ears of Old Father Christmas, he was furious. \u201cThat red-clad impostor!\u201d he roared. \u201cThat stalker, that peeping Tom! Not content with tormenting children with his voyeuristic tendencies, now he sends his minions out to do it! That is the final dollop of reindeer poop! It\u2019s war.\u201d<\/p>\n

The elves all cheered wildly. At last they would see off those horrible impostors, the Elfs on the Shelf. For of course, a real elf doesn\u2019t have a simpering expression and a little red suit. A real elf is a lithe wisp of energy, and can manifest in many different forms, so the elves were deeply offended at these interlopers, and worried that human children would stop believing in elves and faeries as a consequence of these caricatures.<\/p>\n

Joulutonttu was the youngest elf \u2013 the one all the others regarded as a bit flighty and irresponsible. He decided to do something special to prove himself to the others. He would liberate human children from those little red monsters once and for all.<\/p>\n

He went into the restricted section of Old Father Christmas\u2019s library of magical tomes. He clearly needed something special. He worked his way through several tomes, getting quite dusty and cobwebby in the process. The stack of discarded volumes grew bigger: the section of the\u00a0Kalevala\u00a0<\/i>dealing with the forging of the\u00a0Sampo<\/a>\u00a0was stacked regretfully on the discard pile along with several long-lost grimoires that human magicians would dearly love to get their hands on.<\/p>\n

At last he gave up on the library, and wandered off in search of Krampus \u2013 who, contrary to popular belief, rewards children for having an independent spirit and not being blindly obedient. He wandered all around the underground caverns of Korvatunturi, where the elves were hard at work massaging the dollops of magic and mystery into manageable packages which could be sent along the ancient trackways through the forests. Finally he found Krampus in the observatory on the peak of Korvatunturi.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t like it,\u201d muttered Krampus to himself. \u201cThose children are getting forgetful of the old magic. Not enough freedom to wander about and find things out for themselves, I reckon.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joulutonttu waited patiently while Krampus finished his observations.<\/p>\n

\u201cAh, hello there, small elf,\u201d said Krampus, looking over the spectacles on the end of his nose.<\/p>\n

\u201cHello, Krampus,\u201d said Joulutonntu. \u201cI was looking for a way to save the human children from those horrible Elfs on the Shelf. I was thinking you might have an idea.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere are indeed some disturbing currents in the magic,\u201d said Krampus. \u201cThe humans are too cruel, too greedy, too focussed on things. Most of them don\u2019t care about the old ways any more. Those Elfs on the Shelf are a manifestation of their overwhelming desire to control everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut surely the children still have a tiny spark of magic?\u201d asked Joulutonttu.<\/p>\n

\u201cSome of them do,\u201d said Krampus. \u201cBut I believe I might have just the thing. Come with me.\u201d He got up from behind the vast array of brass telescopes, finely calibrated sensors equipped with red feathers for measuring kindness and justice levels (many indicated critically low levels of either), and stomped off towards the door. Joulutonttu half-ran, half-flitted along behind him.<\/p>\n

They walked down many winding stairs, through ornately carved doors, down into the deep caverns below Korvatunturi. They went through three doors bound with wrought-iron sigils (something of a trial for Joulutonttu, as elves hate iron), which had signs written in Runic, Old Gothic, and Finnish reading \u201cHigh energy magic area \u2013 enter at your own risk\u201d.<\/p>\n

Finally, behind the last door, Joulutonttu beheld a vast cauldron full of shimmering, twisting energy, constantly changing colour from purple to green to blue. \u201cWhat is it?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis, my friend, is pure vintage eighteenth-century naughtiness,\u201d said Krampus. \u201cThe finest distilled essence of the childhood naughtiness of revolutionaries, the Luddites, William Blake, the Romantic poets, the Lunar Men, the early feminists \u2013 their moments of rebellion, their high-spirited games, their visions, and their flights of fancy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre we going to release this into the wild?\u201d asked Joulutonttu excitedly.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s exactly what we will do,\u201d said Krampus. \u201cHumans need a wake-up call \u2013 they are sleepwalking into an apocalypse on a tide of consumerism. This ought to stir things up a bit.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do we release it?\u201d asked Joulutonttu. \u201cAnd how do we know it will get to the right children?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh, that\u2019s the clever part,\u201d said Krampus. \u201cEach of these wisps of naughtiness will waft around on the winds until they find the human heart that will make a warm and welcoming nest for them \u2013 and then they will make that heart glow with merry wildness.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s get to work!\u201d said Joulutonttu.<\/p>\n

So they carefully carried the cauldron up to the topmost peak of Korvatunturi. They summoned the spirits of the four winds, D\u00e1inn, Dvalinn, Duneyrr and Durathr\u00f3r.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut it\u2019s not Yule yet,\u201d protested Dvalinn. \u201cWhy have you summoned us?\u201d So Krampus and Joulutonttu explained what they wanted.<\/p>\n

The four winds sniffed the contents of the cauldron appreciatively. \u201cAh, haven\u2019t smelt naughtiness like that in many a long year,\u201d said Durathr\u00f3r. \u201cIt takes me right back to the Luddite rebellion, that. Heady days.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh yes,\u201d agreed Duneyrr. \u201cThis is no ordinary naughtiness \u2013 this is the true spirit of freedom and creativity. Almost Promethean, that is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh yes, Prometheus. They don\u2019t make \u2018em like that any more,\u201d said D\u00e1inn.<\/p>\n

The winds agreed to carry the glimmers of naughtiness to everywhere they were needed, and soon the sky was full of many-coloured glittering threads, like sparks being carried aloft from a bonfire.<\/p>\n

If you see a tiny wisp of light, perhaps out of the corner of your eye, it might be one of those very special glimmers \u2013 and maybe it\u2019s just for you. So open your heart and hope that it makes its nest there.<\/p>\n

\n

Update<\/strong>: Part 2 of this story, The Taste of Magic<\/a>, is now published.<\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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