When we see a children’s nativity play what do we see? We might see angels with wonky wings, a prominence of tea-towels among the shepherd quarter or a rather cavalier approach to parenting on the part of Mary and Joseph. In this year’s Hampstead Parochial School nativity play we saw the story of the birth of Jesus through the eyes of the donkey that carried Mary to Bethlehem. I confess that as the children of the reception class and years 1 and 2 sang ‘Pretty lady, dressed in blue’, tears glistened in the eyes of many of the adults on the font row- two of whom are clergy of this church.
So is this simply a cosy, sentimentalised re-telling of a story which is perhaps more appropriate for ‘adult-eyes only’? It is after all a story of teenage pregnancy, poverty, massacre and cruel dictators.
If these grown-up themes are hidden as children act out the nativity story, why can it seem so terribly poignant? Why might we as adults find the participation of children in the rituals of Christmas moving? Is it that we are led to think back to the time when we were children ourselves? Does this mean we reflect with sentimental nostalgia on the changes that adulthood brings? Well, may be, but I think another reason for our emotion is that we see in children a reflection of ourselves.
Not ourselves as we normally appear, but we see an echo of our own vulnerability and dependency. We connect with the child-like part of ourselves. This connection having been made we see children participating in a story that challenges some of our adult preoccupations. Our focus on success, achievement, or simply keeping the machinery of daily life running, can be put to one side.
When we put these things to one side we see the story of God becoming flesh and taking on our own vulnerability in the life of a helpless baby. It is not the story of a God intervening like a super-hero trying to sort us out. It is the story of a God committed to us and our deepest instincts and concerns. God doesn’t stand apart from the human story, like a director of a play urging us to project our voices or move stage-left. Instead he participates in the human story and in so doing, changes it. The play that is our lives becomes a story of redemption rather than tragedy.
It shows us that God is always seeking to help us live stories that are true, generous and faithful. Stories where we relate to one another in ways that reflect his glory, full of grace and truth. When we don’t or can’t do these things God is always seeking to forgive us. When the world seems chaotic and the stories that we see and hear in the world provoke anxiety and despair, we know that God has lived these stories before: human power and might do not have the last word.
In the vulnerability of Jesus Christ God shows us he is committed to the weakest members of our society and the weakest parts of ourselves.
These things perhaps mean that it is children; those who are the least powerful, the most vulnerable, who are best placed to tell the story of the nativity.
And seen from the other side, what do children who star in nativity plays see as they look out to the audience? Watching the youngest children at Hampstead Parochial School I was struck again and again by the same thing happening to one child after another:
Oblivious to their surroundings they would scan the audience and then a grin would break out on their faces as they recognised a parent in the audience. And the grin would often be followed by a wave- in some cases a shy wave and in other cases wildly enthusiastic wave. Clearly for a young child what makes a nativity play successful is the presence of Mummy or Daddy in the audience: They have an entirely relational view of the world. What makes this play worth being in, for a child, is who will see it. They are searching for the gaze of the people who love them most.
Of course the presence of a loved one is important to us however old we become. If the person I love delights in who or what I am, it can quite simply make life worth living and what I am doing, worth doing.
This was true of Jesus Christ, just as it is true of us. The opening lines of John’s gospel ‘in the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God’, literally translated would read ‘in the beginning was the Word and the Word was turned towards God’
Throughout his life Jesus was turned towards God, just as a child in a nativity play is turned towards his or her parent. And God gazes upon his beloved Son. Before Jesus’ ministry ever began, when he was baptised by John, the voice of God was heard ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well-pleased’.
These words are spoken by God before Jesus has said or done any of those things which led people to follow him or proclaim him as our Saviour. In the same way God loves us before we do or say anything. He is like the father smiling in the audience before the first line is ever uttered.
As we celebrate the birth of the Christ child this year what do we see? We see our stories changed. We see God going to the dark places within us, and within the world, to transform those things which limit or destroy it. So let us pray this Christmas time that we may turn towards the gaze of a God who loves us. Let us recognise Christ born in us today transforming our life stories to ones full of grace and truth. Amen