BABY BORN IN TOILET

Many people see Christ as a long-dead, myth-shrouded teacher who lives on only in fading memory, a man "risen from the dead" only in the sense that his teachings have survived. There are scholars busily at work trying to find out which words attributed to Jesus in the New Testament were actually said by him (not many, it turns out). Yet even skeptics celebrate Christmas with a special holiday meal and the exchange of gifts.

The problem of miracles doesn't intrude, for what could be more normal than birth? If Jesus lived, then he was born, and so, with little or no faith in the rest of Christian doctrine, we can celebrate his birth, whatever our degree of faith. Pascha, with its miraculous resurrection from the grave, is more and more lost to us, but at least some of the joy of Christmas remains. Perhaps in the end the Nativity feast will lead us back to faith in all its richness. We will be rescued by Christmas.

The icon of Christ's Nativity, ancient though it is, takes note of our "modern" problem. There (usually in the lower left hand corner) we find a morose, despondent Joseph listening to a wizened figure (but in the above example a young man) who represents what we might call "the voice of unenlightened reason." What is the old man whispering to Joseph? Something like: "A miracle? Surely you aren't so foolish as to believe Mary conceived this child without a human father. But if not you, then who was it?" As we read the Gospel passages concerning Joseph, we are repeatedly reminded that he didn't easily make leaps of faith.

Divine activity intrudes into our lives in such a mundane, physical way. A woman gives birth to a child, as women have been doing since Eve. Joseph has witnessed that birth and there is nothing different about it, unless it be that it occurred in abject circumstances, far from home, in a cave in which animals are kept. Joseph has had his dreams, he has heard angelic voices, he has been reassured in a variety of ways that the child born of Mary is none other than the Awaited One, the Anointed, God's Son. But belief comes hard. Giving birth is arduous, as we see in Mary's reclining figure, resting after labor — and so is the labor to believe. Mary has completed this stage of her struggle, but Joseph still grapples with his.

The theme is not only in Joseph's bewildered face. The rigorous black of the cave of Christ's birth in the center of the icon represents all human disbelief, all fear, all hopelessness. In the midst of a starless night in the cave of our despair, Christ, "the Sun of Truth," enters history having been clothed in flesh in Mary's body. It is just as the Evangelist John said in the beginning of his Gospel: "The light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it."

The Nativity icon is in sharp contrast to the sentimental imagery we are used to in western Christmas art. In the icon there is no charming Bethlehem bathed in the light of the nativity star but only a rugged mountain with a few plants. The austere mountain suggests a hard, unwelcoming world in which survival is a real battle — the world since our expulsion from Paradise.

The most prominent figure in the icon is Mary, framed by the red blanket she is resting on — red: the color of life, the color of blood. Orthodox Christians call her the Theotokos, a Greek word meaning God-bearer or Mother of God. Her quiet but wholehearted assent to the invitation brought to her by the Archangel Gabriel has led her to Bethlehem, making a cave at the edge of a peasant village the center of the universe. He who was distant has come near, first filling her body, now visible in the flesh.

As is usual in iconography, the main event is moved to the foreground, free of its surroundings. So the cave is placed behind rather than around Mary and her child.

The Gospel records that Christ's birth occurred in a cave that was being used as a stable. In fact the cave still exists in Bethlehem. Countless pilgrims have prayed there over the centuries. But it no longer looks like the cave it was. In the fourth century, at the Emperor Constantine's order, the cave was transformed into a chapel. At the same time, above the cave, a basilica was built.

We see in the icon that Christ's birth is not only for us, but for all creation. The donkey and the ox, both gazing at the newborn child, recall the opening verses of the Prophet Isaiah: 'An ox knows its owner and a donkey its master's manger..." They also represent "all creatures great and small," endangered, punished and exploited by human beings. They too are victims of the Fall. Christ's Nativity is for them as well as for us.

There is something about the way Mary turns away from her son that makes us aware of a struggle different than Joseph is experiencing. She knows very well her child has no human Father, but is anxious about her child's future. She can see in the circumstances of his birth tha

Nicknamed Mr Shuffles, Taronga Zoo's new baby elephant was today officially named Pathi Harn, meaning "miracle" in the Thai language.

Here's the little bloke on the right with 8 month old Luk Chai showing him how things are done around here.