One of my fondest Christmas memories is that of the annual Christmas
pageant in the UCC church where I grew up.
The script had been written in the 1940’s and was performed in exactly
the same way every year until the late 1960’s when traditional Christmas
pageants went out-of-style. The pageant
was always performed on the Sunday before Christmas, late in the afternoon, so
it was already getting dark outside.
Two adult men in the
congregation (one being my father for a number of years) played the role of
prophets who told the story of the birth of Christ, beginning each pageant with
the same words – “Break forth into joy!
Sing together, ye nations of the earth!” – inspired by words from the
prophet Isaiah.
The rest of the cast was
Sunday school aged youth – from a kindergartner who brought forth the Christmas
star to Mary and Joseph who were seniors in high school. Those without specific
roles were members of a choir that processed into the church dressed in short
white robes with red ribbons, carrying long, battery operated tapers and sat in
the side balconies of the sanctuary – the best seats in the house.
I remember the odor of
frankincense and myrrh that permeated the sanctuary and seemed to draw all of
us back in time to the stable in Bethlehem.
Carried by censor bearers, it was received by the prophets, the smoke
wafting upward reminding us that our prayers all somehow make their way to God.
I remember the Christmas
star alit as it moved down the center aisle.
Then it was gone, only to come to life again, more brilliant it seemed
than ever, high above the choir loft.
I remember watching from
the balcony with the other Sunday School choir members as the shepherds in
their drab robes and bare feet came forward.
They were followed soon thereafter by three magi. Surely these were the wise ones – not kings
because they did not sport crowns but rather more like what I figured
astrologers must look like.
I remember singing the
old familiar carols. The words memorized
long ago told the story too even as it unfolded visually before me.
I remember being an
angel – and one year being the speaking angel.
We stood in the window wells that housed beautiful stained glass figures
during the day but were dark – and freezing cold – at dusk. Beneath our white robes we wore heavy socks
and long underwear and peeked through the tiny holes in the curtain that
covered us, holes made long ago by previous angels intent on watching the
beloved pageant.
The Nativity scene
itself was unveiled at the front of the church at the pageant’s climax. It looked like a real stable when the curtain
was drawn aside. There was genuine hay
and a rough wooden manger. Mary and
Joseph looked on, completely still and silent while the shepherds and kings
completed the Christmas tableau.
I remember looking out
of the car window driving home afterwards and seeing a particularly bright star
in the evening sky. Though it was probably Venus, I always thought that it must
be the Christmas Star, come once again to announce the birth of Jesus. Forever and always, the smell of cold cream
and grease paint will remind me of the pageant too.
It is a wonderful story
we tell each Christmas – and it is our story. It is a story that we need to keep telling even
as the world becomes a crazier place, and the story sometimes seems to make
less sense than ever. We need to keep
telling the story because it embodies a profound truth: that unto us a child is
born, unto us a son is given….and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor,
Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Tell our story this
Christmas – and if you know it already, tell it again – because it is a
wonderful story – and because it is our story and because it embodies a truth –
a truth about God’s unending love for the world.
By Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church, Raymond, Maine
www.rvccme.org
By Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church, Raymond, Maine
www.rvccme.org
No comments:
Post a Comment