One of my favorite parts of the holiday season is, after Thanksgiving has been properly appreciated, busting out the Christmas decorations. At my parents' house, the main event apart from the Christmas tree is putting out my mom’s hand-painted nativity set. It isn’t perfect; the cow is missing a horn, one of the sheep has a chip in its muzzle, and Joseph’s neck is a quarter inch too long from all the times he’s been knocked over, beheaded and glued back together.
To this day, it is one of the most beautiful nativities I’ve ever seen, not just because of the fine workmanship, but because of the story it tells. When I look at it, I see the 40-plus Christmases it has graced our family home. I see the innumerable children who have put all the animals closest to the manger “because they need to see baby Jesus too!” and shoved all the people to the back. I remember my own experience of accidentally beheading Joseph and tearfully confessing to my mother, who just patiently went for the glue. I remember watching her painstakingly repaint each piece, recoloring Mary’s veil and touching up the wisemen’s fancy robes. I’d like to think most nativities have a similar story to tell, even at the cost of a few nicks and some sticky fingerprints.
Every nativity scene, whether it rests on a tabletop, front lawn or even on the cover of a magazine, tells one universal story, and each player in this scene has a special role. The angel embraces the long-awaited opportunity to announce the Savior’s birth. The shepherd, hearing the “good tidings of great joy,” sets off in search of the stable. The wise men, who have studied and prepared and traveled so far in search of the prophesied Messiah, give gifts fit for a king to the son of a carpenter. Mary and Joseph, far from home and overwhelmed with the events of the past few hours, take a moment to adore their little miracle. And lastly, the Christ child, who so many have waited and watched for, sleeps in the manger. Something I love about the nativity is that, despite being strangers from different walks of life, this group of people is united in this moment – gathered together to celebrate a child’s birth.
Today, we still gather together – sometimes with strangers, sometimes with family and friends, to celebrate the birth of this same Child. That’s one of the best things about Christmas, isn’t it? Typically, we get together as family and friends – the same people in the same places, telling the same stories, singing the same songs and sharing the same old memories. What started in a stable in Bethlehem has now spread throughout the world to become the oldest Christmas tradition: uniting to celebrate something greater than ourselves.
When we get together as family and friends to celebrate Christmas, we recreate the scene of the nativity – people with different gifts to give and different burdens to bear united in celebrating the birth of the Christ child.
Remember this when you are with your “nativity” this Christmas – the ones you’ve found or who have found you. It doesn’t matter if everyone is happy and whole, or if there are some that seem to be held together with superglue and duct tape. They’ve all come a long way to get here.
Be ready with an extra hug and a smile to lift someone else’s burden and offer the compassion and support we all need. I figure that is the best gift you could give to the Babe in the Manger.
Merry Christmas.
