The Story Needs To Be Told

Growing up in elementary school, I was in the choir.
Practically every girl was in the choir; no auditions were necessary.
We were expected to actually sing and not just mouth the words.
We were expected to be part of the Christmas Eve program.

Being part of the choir meant that we were all angels.
The angels were in the choir loft.
What a wondrous sight that must have been.
Reminiscent of what it must have been like that first Christmas.

Almost.

In order to be an angel, we had to wear a long white dress.
The satin dresses were made for us and were given out according to our height.
I needed one that could cover my long legs.
Often, my angelic dress only went to my mid-calf.

Our wings were made of cardboard.
Our mothers had to cut them out for us.
I can still see my mother tracing the shape of the wings on poster board.
I can still see her meticulously cutting along the lines she drew in pencil.

She edged the cardboard with gold tinsel garland.
For the life of me, I don’t remember how she actually fastened the wings on my back.
However she did it, they stayed in place.
It was funny to see all the angels walking to the choir loft, the wings flapping behind us.

We were on the wooden risers.
Our voices filling the air.
Not the real thing to be sure, but still pleasing to God.
We were still announcing the Good News of the birth of His Son, Jesus.

I love to hear children explain the Christmas story.
Baby Jesus is as real to them as if He was in the next room.
If you watch them play with a manger, Baby Jesus deals with the same things they do.
That must make God smile.

The reality of Jesus is something we all need to experience like a child.
Who else but a child would celebrate Baby Jesus’ birthday with a cake and party hat?
Who else but a child would ask why the innkeeper didn’t have any room?
Who else but a child could listen to the story and really relate?

The best example of this is found in the book The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.
Barbara Robinson wrote a funny account of a Christmas pageant.
A family of incorrigible children happens to secure all of the major roles.
The church is in an uproar, but Grace Bradley the director by default, persists.

Grace was explaining the Christmas story to her Sunday school class.
She discovered that the Herdmans had never heard the Christmas story before.
To the groans of the other children, Grace tells the Story again.
The Herdmans’ perspective is refreshing.

When Mother read about there being no room in the inn, Imogene’s jaw dropped and she sat up in her seat…”Not even for Jesus?”…”Well, after all,” Mother explained, “nobody knew the baby was going to turn out to be Jesus.” “You said Mary knew,” Ralph said. “Why didn’t she tell them?” “I would have told them!” Imogene put in. “Boy, would I have told them! What’s the matter with Joseph that he didn’t tell them? Her pregnant and everything,” she grumbled. “What was that they laid the baby in?” Leroy said. “That manger…is that like a bed? Why would they have a bed in the barn?” “That’s just the point,” Mother said. “They didn’t have a bed in the barn, so Mary and Joseph had to use whatever there was. What would you do if you had a new baby and no bed to put the baby in?” “We put Gladys in a bureau drawer,” Imogene volunteered. “Well, there you are,” Mother said, blinking a little. “You didn’t have a bed for Gladys so you had to use something else…Anyway, Mary and Joseph used a manger. A manger is a large wooden feeding trough for animals.” “What were the wadded up clothes?” Claude wanted to know. “The what?” Mother said. “You read about it – she wrapped him in wadded up clothes.” “Swaddling clothes,” Mother sighed. “Long ago people used to wrap their babies very tightly in big pieces of material, so they couldn’t move around. It made the babies feel cozy and comfortable.” “You mean they tied him up and put him in a feed box? she said. “Where was the child welfare?”
(Excerpt from The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, by Barbara Robinson)

The Herdmans brought their own experience to the Christmas story.
Two refugees traveling far to pay their taxes and the woman was about to give birth.
There was no hospital, no sanitary conditions, only a stable and a dirty feeding trough.
Where was the Child Welfare, indeed?

We hear the Story every year and are so familiar with it; we may also groan at the retelling.
We must never do that!
There are Herdmans all around us who have never heard.
There are Herdmans all around us who do not know the first thing about Jesus’ birth.

He said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation.” (Mark 16:15)

It is up to us to tell them.
It is up to us to answer their questions, as absurd as they may be.
We were the Herdmans once.
We can all remember a time when we didn’t know the Story either.

“What happened first?” Imogene hollered at my mother. “Begin at the beginning!”
Begin at the beginning indeed.

 

2 responses to “The Story Needs To Be Told”

1. Barbara Robinson once visited our Pen Women group (this is a national group of writers and artists). She talked about “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever” and how it came to be written, then made into a play, then a movie. She never dreamed it would be so popular. She was a lovely lady and the story is a great one that never gets old and needs to be told every year until our Lord returns. Thanks for this story–l too have good memories about Christmases when I was young, a much simpler time.

   Reply

   • Sue,
     What a blessing it must have been to hear her speak. Such a wonderful story, so simple yet so profound. We can never assume that people know the Story of Christ’s birth. We have to be ready to tell others who may be hearing it for the first time.
     Gina

     Reply