On the corner of 183rd and Governors Highway, kitty-corner from the Homewood-Flossmoor Park District sign at Dolphin Lake announcing all of the upcoming holiday events, and across the street from the Cherry Creek Shopping Center with its Walgreen’s sign announcing all of the upcoming specials, on the grounds of the Homewood Church was their own sign, written on the side of a flat wooden Holstein cow in a rather free hand:
Live Nativity
5:30-8:00 pm
December 2
The “2” had been pasted over, since the date of the Live
Nativity on other years must have fallen on a different day of December.
At the far
left, as far away from the stable as the church grounds allowed, right up
against the parking lot driveway that had been blocked off, stood the wise men,
a group of three I would say just barely teenage boys, dressed up in robes of
bright colors and turbans, and roaming around a bit among their camels. The
boys—no, wise men—were the only “live” part of this particular scene of the
tableau. The camels, needless to say, I
suppose, were not very “live” but were flat plywood figures. It was probably a bit much to expect the
Homewood Church to have “livened” up this part of the display. Yet here they were, with their “live” wise
men, marching with wooden strides from the east, literally, toward Bethlehem in
Judea in the days of Herod the king.
Just to the
west of the “live” wise men and their wooden camels, and a bit closer to the
stable in Bethlehem, were the angels, appearing to the shepherds in the fields
by night. They too were “live” and, to
simulate their origin in the heavens, stood on homemade wooden risers, four risers
high, in a tiered tableau. As one might
expect for heavenly figures, the glory of the Lord shone round about them,
provided, in this case, by floodlights in front and behind them. They were the brightest scene in the night. The
angels themselves were a group of I would say just barely teenage girls, some
younger, a rather wiggly group of angels having a good time, and dressed in
white gowns, brightened by the floodlights, with silvery bands around their
heads that looked a little like the tinsel we strung on Christmas trees. I doubt whether the creators of the Live Nativity
had thought through the concept of feminine angels. Had they, I suppose they might have connected
the darling little cherubs of medieval art with their own charming
daughters. Yet, nevertheless, here they
were, the feminine representing the divine.
And just
between the teenage angels and the stable, there were in the same country
shepherds abiding in the field. They and their sheep were both “live” and,
consequently, they were enclosed in a small pen constructed with the kind of
metal barricades that you see on TV keeping crowds away from the finish of the
Chicago marathon or the Tour de France. In
spite of the glory of the angels who appeared to them, the field itself with
its little enclosure was dark, and you had to look closely to see the sheep
behind the barricades, or the small shepherds, for that matter. But you could make out a few little sheep
rear ends right up against the barricades if you looked closely. They stood quite still, I think a bit
traumatized by the events, and I believe they, rather than their young shepherds,
were the ones who really needed to hear the words of the angels on the homemade
risers nearby: “Fear not: for, behold, I bring you tidings of great joy . . .”And then, just a few feet more to the west, and right at the crossroads of Governors Highway and 183rd, was the Live Nativity’s major attraction: the stable with Mary and Joseph and the attending sheep, again all “live.” They sat in a kind of shelter which the members of the church had constructed, and in front of it, more traffic barricades like the ones penning in the shepherds with their flocks in the fields nearby. Here in the darkness, you could barely see a teenage Mary and Joseph with long robes, and again a few small sheep rear ends pushed up against the traffic barricades standing completely still. They were all, presumably, worshipping the baby Jesus in the manger, whom it was impossible to see since it was dark, and, moreover, he was more or less shielded from view by the traffic barricades and the little scared sheep frozen in their tracks behind them.
Behind the entire Live Nativity, in the parking lot between the Live Nativity and the church itself, was parked a pickup truck with a large enclosed livestock trailer. Two guys stood by the door of the truck, keeping watch over their flocks by night, but from a distance, of course, so as not to disturb too much the “live” shepherds watching over their “live” flocks by night behind the traffic barricades. Apparently, they didn’t want to intrude on the first century ambiance of the tableau. In fact, the whole parking lot where the pickup truck and the livestock trailer stood between the Live Nativity and the church was blocked off for the night, and the members’ cars were all parked in the lot on the other side of the church, presumably for the same reason: not to intrude on the first century world which the nativity was bringing to life before their very eyes.
There
seemed to be a lot going on in the church itself, and occasionally, a small group
of church members would wander out of the church into the dark night and come
and stand in front of the tableau. At
three places were stationed readers in first century shepherds’ robes with
battery powered headlamps strapped to their foreheads, reading the story of
Christmas from the Gospel of Luke in the King James Version. Also viewing the spectacle, of course, were
the people in the cars driving by on 183rd and on Governors Highway,
the very audience, I suppose that the church members were trying to reach by
their positioning the Live Nativity where they did.
The church
members, who had parked their cars out of sight, had come for this, to bring
the nativity to life and to hear the gospel read. I imagine, however, that those driving by,
who had gone out to Walgreen’s to pick up their prescriptions or to Walt’s for
a few groceries, may have been surprised to see an—at least partly—Live
Nativity at the corner of Governor’s Highway and 183rd. But, you know, the first Live Nativity came
to pass in an unlikely place too. And if
we’ve learned anything about live nativities, it should be that God comes into
the world through the most unexpected people in the most unexpected places,
right?
No comments:
Post a Comment