auld lang syne jelly-shooting Jesus
So I’m reading this article in the paper today about how the police have recovered all these Baby Jesus statues that were stolen over the holiday. Apparently manger theft is a bigger problem than I’d thought. Turns out that less than half of them are ever claimed. That got me to wondering… what happens to the ones that are not identified and returned to their owners?
A few phone calls later and the mystery deepened a little.
According to a spokesman for the state police, there is usually a reason that these plastic lawn ornaments are not picked up. He used an interesting term. He called them ‘misfits’. He explained that the other decorations have some sort of sentimental value to their owners and they are usually claimed quickly after the owners pick their Jesus out from a Jesus line-up.
Not the ‘misfits’.
“Nobody wants a savior that shoots jelly” the officer said.
So where do all these extra Jesus figurines end up?
The storeroom of misfit Jesus’.
I had to go take a look for myself and wouldn’t you know… there really was a Jesus that shot jelly. There was a Christ-in-the-box as well. Nobody wanted him back either.
Rummaging through the shelves I also found a polka dotted Jehovah, a Savior that is part bird and part fish, and a Messiah riding an ostrich.
Captain Moonracer, the fellow in charge of the storeroom, told me that many of these statues have been locked up in here for over 20 years. All of them waiting for someone to come claim them.
Then I remembered a verse contained in Matthew 24: “And he will send his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of the heavens to the other. Even the misfits will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of the sky, with power and great glory, and he will load them into his mighty sleigh. He will whistle and shout and call his angels by name. On Michael, on Gabriel, on Raphael! Dash away, dash away, dash away all! And then the moon will not give its light; the stars will fall from the sky, and the heavenly bodies will be shaken.”
Standing in the cramped room I felt a shiver run down my spine.
It was obvious that Captain Moonracer had become quite attached to his group of misfit Jesus’. “Much like the smashing of mailboxes, some people think this is funny and it’s not.”
His hand wandered to the cross hanging from a chain around his neck.
“It’s just the wrong thing to do… stealing a baby Jesus. Even if it does shoot jelly.”
I told him not to worry and that I had a feeling that one day someone would be coming to pick up these figurines… probably like a thief in the night.
I think that made him feel better because I heard him exclaim ere I drove out of sight;
“Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.”
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