The lights on the tree flash their warmth and colour. The wreath over the fireplace sparkles as well. They promise hope and joy at Christmas. But my quick news survey shows: famine in Zimbabwe – more than 4 million needing food aid, hundreds killed in anti-government protests in Iraq and neighbouring Iran, thousands protesting in Hong Kong for democratic rights.  What do I do with this promise of hope? When will the outcome be positive and constructive?

I don’t think Adventing is a word (but my significant grammatical other says “If parenting is a word then…). The other morning, I was playing with its synonym –arriving. Declining verbs was a big part of my high school Latin debacle but, with what is left in my memory, I came up with arrived, has arrived and will arrive

 We’re through Black Friday and now it’s “Cyber Monday”. Tomorrow is “Giving Tuesday” – probably so the retailers can give generously from the profits of the last few days. Or for charities like us to make everyone feel guilty enough to donate what remains on the credit line.

Pardon the ancient history, but the power over the seating plan was driven home to me in my grade 13 Botany class. “It’s in the book,” was the teacher’s answer to my question. My response was “It isn’t”. After he repeated the same answer, I suggested he show me where. The next day I was directed to a seat at the very back, separate from the lab desks with my very own table and chair.

I find the class structures of shows like Downton Abbey annoying, repressive and marvellously entertaining. But I root for the shoeshine guy and the laundress. I was reading Jesus’ parable about an upper-class Downton type who, after his staff have worked his fields, still has them serve his dinner. Then frees them to eat. He ends by telling his friends to just accept their duty and not expect applause.