The Christmas Pageant

I read somewhere that a good story doesn’t just copy life it pushes back on it. And so it is with the annual Christmas pageant. 

Last Sunday I joined worship with the Long Reach United Church congregation to behold the annual Christmas pageant. It was such fun to experience the old, old story once again. To hold our breath as one of the sheep almost ignited while brushing near the candles. To enjoy a heart felt belly laugh as Jospeh, who would ordinarily be unstoppable, suddenly became Mr. Shy Man. To chuckle with a parent as they took on the role of tax collector. To be in a room filled with awe.

While the haloed angel stood before us, angels were everywhere - lending a hand, encouraging the children, surprising everyone with delightful moments of laughter and awe.

No matter how many times I experience the ancient story it never gets old. Each time is delightful. Memory dissolves the boundaries of time, taking my imagination through the decades to my childhood and the one room school house of ten grades right out of the pages of Anne of Green Gables. 

My memory may exaggerate the actual facts. It seems like we spent most of December practicing for the Christmas concert which took place in the community hall over a mile walk from the school. Needless to say,  much of the school day would be consumed coming and going. 

Once a week a travelling music teacher would stop by our school and teach us a few carols. The brave soul also created a rhythm band. My gift - the triangle. One, two, three - strike. Hard to mess that up! 

On concert night, the whole community came out. Shepherds and angels appeared. We sang Away in a Manger and indulged in delicious brown sugar fudge dispensed in small brown paper bags. 

Then there were my children’s pageants; each having their turn being a cast member of the Holy family. 

Funny how memory takes you to the mishaps of such occasions like the times baby Jesus took a tumble. There was the time when in a burst of enthusiasm, we Sunday School teachers decided to bring in hay bales to create a stable ambiance, only to discover that Jospeh was allergic to hay. Leaving the whole display to be quickly disassembled  a few minutes before worship began. Meanwhile a concerned parent proceeded to chastise us teachers. Oh the things that go on behind the scenes! In church!

As one who has served a long term ministry in one area, I have the delightful privilege of witnessing generations of the same family take on the Holy family role. Shepherds and angels are played by children I have baptized. Wise and compassionate adults I was privileged to confirm and then preside at their weddings, now take their place as stage directors, dressing shepherds and angels, beaming as their children now take their place in the stable. 

The beauty of the Christmas pageant is that everyone is included. Type casting is tossed aside. No matter your age or status you get a place in the stable. 

Whatever their motives, I give thanks for the biblical writers of Matthew and Mark for the Christmas story. I give thanks for the good old Christmas pageant that dissolves the boundaries of time. We laugh. We sit in awe and wonder.  We go forth empowered to keep on keeping on, to be co-creators of justice with a Love that will not let us go. 

For a brief moment in time, amid the constant assault of violence and greed that often mark our days, the Christmas pageant pushes back on bad news. Joy makes itself known. Hearts rejoice. Hope and Peace are near. The veil between heaven and earth thins and Love’s presence is near.