On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
twelve drummers drumming…

The twelve drummers drumming have been linked both to the Twelve Tribes of Israel and to the Twelve Points of the Apostles’ Creed—two ways of speaking about a people held together by story, memory, and hope.

“You are no longer strangers and aliens, but citizens with the saints and members of the household of God.”
— Ephesians 2:19

The tribes of Israel were never uniform. They argued, competed, fractured, and carried deep wounds. Their unity was not found in agreement, but in shared origin and covenant. They belonged to one another even when they struggled to live like it.

The creed emerged much later, shaped by communities scattered across cultures, languages, and empires. It was not written to end debate, but to hold a fragile people together—to give them words to return to when fear, persecution, and doubt pressed in.

Broken Theology hears both tribes and creed as acts of memory rather than weapons of certainty. They do not erase difference; they make room for it. They remind us that faith is not something we construct alone, but something we receive, inherit, and pass on.

The image of drummers matters. Drums do not carry melody or argument. They keep time. They call people together. They mark movement—procession, protest, mourning, celebration.

In a world where belonging is often conditional, fragile, or weaponised, this final gift offers something quieter and stronger: a shared rhythm. A reminder that we do not walk alone, even when we walk differently.

Christmas ends not with resolution,
but with community.

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May shared stories hold
your steps within a wider hope—
many hearts, one beat.