Faith Reflection

If you have ever directed, or tried to direct, a Christmas pageant, you can attest to the truth of the next words you are about to read: you never really know what is going to happen on the night of the show.

You can prepare. 

Rehearse. 

Coach. 

Encourage. 

But the truth is, all that falls by the wayside when kids are on a stage in front of their parents and peers, wearing bathrobes, tinsel, and plastic crowns acting out the Christmas story. 

Lines are forgotten. Props get dropped. One year, all the audience could see of baby Jesus was a bare pink plastic bottom because he was swaddled face down, upside down. Oops. 

So, all this is why I so whole-heartedly love Barbara Robinson’s story The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. 

The story centers around, you guessed it, a Christmas pageant at a local church that takes an unexpected turn, or series of turns, courtesy of the “worst kids in the history of the world.” The Herdmans lie, steal, smoke cigars, curse their teachers, set fires, terrorize other kids and adults alike, and are in general, a rowdy, unkempt, undisciplined lot. 

Then, for reasons that no one in the story really understands, the horrible Herdmans strong arm their way into the Christmas pageant and upset the church establishment who expect the pageant to be the usual sweet, benign, predictable spectacle it has always been with a nice orderly Mary, adorable little angels, and well-behaved wise men. 

What they get…well, suffice it to say that they don’t get what they bargained for. They get a lot more: a fiercely protective Mary with a dirty face and ragged clothes. Wise Men who come bearing NOT gold, frankincense and myrrh, but a ham. And a herald angel who climbs to the top of the rock formation on the set and yells down to the shepherds, “HEY! Unto you a child is born! Get going! Hurry up!” 

What I love about this is that the Herdmans' understanding of the Christmas story is… well, practical, I guess. 

Mary and Joseph were probably not bandbox-fresh when they reached that stable. They were probably dirty, tired, hungry and scared. 

I like the image of a fierce Mary with fire in her eyes protecting her  tiny child from Herod’s stormtroopers.

I like the urgency of the angel. This was important news. It deserved urgency. 

It still does.  

It should be bellowed from the top of a mountain for anyone in earshot  and beyond to hear. 

Unto us, unto all of mankind. This child is born. Jesus is our gift from God. 

Even the Herdmans of the world. 

Get out there and tell ‘em.