The Glow
How did I get myself into this? Claire thought to herself as she adjusted her
head cloth and shifted her position sitting on the small stool beside the
improvised "manager." She knew that the teenagers at her church - her son Brian
among them - were responsible for the nativity scene at the annual Christmas
pageant, but she never expected they'd tap her to play Mary.
"After all," Brian had insisted, "None of the girls really feel up to playing
Mary - we need someone older." So not knowing whether to be complimented or
insulted, there she sat decked out in the requisite Bible-era robe and with
instructions to look saintly.
Claire sighed and looked around. She knew that the nativity scene came at the
end of her pageant and served as the climax of the show. After the sugar plums
and snowflake dancers and all the rest of the performers had finished, the
curtain would come up on the assembled manager scene as the church choir stood
behind them and sang "Silent Night." The audience would join in, the curtain
would drop and the pageant would be over for the year.
In her place by the box that served as the "manger", Claire had the feeling that
something was missing. For despite the festive decorations, the happy
anticipation in the air and of course the basic reality of what the Christmas
story really meant, Claire was a bit depressed. She knew that Christmas of
course celebrated the birth of Jesus, but what did it mean to her and those in
the pageant and the audience? Was it just an opportunity see the children
performing in cute costumes? Or for the choir director to show off her skill at
the complicated numbers?
Claire sighed again. So much festivity and all because of a baby. Baby? Claire
paused to remember the planned occupant of the "manger."
"Don't worry, Mom," Brian had told her as she asked. "We thought about a doll,
but that would have looked pretty phony. So we improvised." He dug in his gym
bag. "Here, when the curtain comes up, turn this on." "This" was a flashlight,
now resting in the "manger" on the towel (representing a blanket) and on the
straw and Claire was still puzzled. No baby, or even a doll. Just a flashlight.
Some Christmas this would be!
So Claire sat there, with the costumed teens circled around her - with Brian
playing Joseph, the three Wise Men off to one side, a donkey tethered near by
(standing on a lot of straw), and a group of shepherds on the other side. Claire
bowed her head as she heard the players shuffle in their places (was that a pair
of Nikes peeking out from under a shepherdly robe?) then the choir assembling
behind them.
It was dark behind the curtain. The leashed lamb held by one of the shepherds
let out a faint "baa!" The barnyard fragrance of donkey and straw became
evident. So much preparation and so much tradition, but what did it all mean?
Somehow Claire couldn't put aside the sense of sadness that amidst the soft
music and depiction of the holy scene there was still something missing. If
Christmas was Jesus' birthday, then where was He in all of this? So many years
ago He had been born in a similar scene, an infant laid in a feed box by a
peasant teenaged mother. Indeed, a child who had attracted his rough shepherds
and the polished wise men, but where was His current influence. Had it really
come to this - a straw filed box and a flashlight?
"Mom!" A whisper from "Joseph" nearby. "The flashlight- turn it on!"
At first confused, then understanding, Claire reached into the box and trying to
look like she was adjusting the blanket, flicked on the light just as the
curtain came up and the choir began to sing.
The glow shimmered forth, partially covered by the straw and the towel, but its
luminescence diffused into a faint illumination that spread out from the box and
was reflected on the faces of the hunched group around it. Then Claire heard the
choir's words. "Radiant beams from Thy holy face.. Redeeming grace." Claire
adjusted the towel again and the light gleamed up, casting its glow. Shepherds.
Wise Men. Mary, Joseph. All the characters were there and then there was the
light.
Just like the light of Christ that still glowed and shone out in the dimness of
an unreceiving and unbelieving world.
"Sleep in heavenly peace." sang the choir and all the teens fell to their knees
on cue around the light as the curtain slowly descended.
And then Claire knew. It was a simple message. Christmas was Christ and how the
Light of the world had been born into a world of darkness and how His radiance
was reflected in the faces and lives of those who encountered Him. In the midst
of a dark world that Light meant hope and peace and most of all God's love. That
was Christmas.
Anne Adams thepetgame@yahoo.com