Every year, I like to talk about the Christmas creche. That beautiful nativity scene we create in a stable or barn, with all the characters of the Christmas story from scripture.
You may have one. They come in all shapes and sizes, from tiny ones you can hang on a tree or find in a snow globe, to life size figures you can put on the lawn. Some churches and communities even do a “live nativity,” with real people and animals creating the tableau.
There’s usually at least the baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph in a stable or cave where animals are kept, as it says in the Gospel of Luke. There may also be animals, especially sheep, they come with the shepherds, but there may also be a donkey, a cow or two, maybe even a few chickens and a pig. It’s supposed to be a stable, after all. With the shepherds, you might find the magi. There’s at least three, to cover the three gifts, and they might have arrived on camels, if you’re getting really fancy. And there could be an angel, too, overlooking them all. And a star - don’t forget the star - that sits above all that.
Some even throw in an innkeeper or a Roman soldier or two. And a Little Drummer Boy.
Of course, it’s not likely that all these would have been there. At least, not all at the same time. Or at all, because that part of the story isn’t part of the scripture story - we made it up. And remember, that full manger scene is created by conflating two different accounts from two different gospels. Then there’s the reality of what life was really like in first century Judea.
I know, don’t ruin it! Most people don’t want to know that. Reality spoils this lovely pastoral vista we’ve created.
Does it?
The story of how everyone got there is full of the unexpected. It’s full of challenges, even hardship, mystery, wonder. In a world full of conflict, oppression, hate and anger, a young couple, still trying to get to know each other, find themselves far from home. It’s late, there’s nowhere to go and she’s having a baby, a baby that’s, well, hard to explain. And yet, here he is and they wonder, with joy, at this tiny little miracle.
It sounds like they did it alone, but maybe there were hands to help them on the way. People who believed in them, people who didn’t know them but offered them hospitality and kindness. Then there were people who heard the news, people who knew something was happening, change was coming. Maybe they weren’t alone, after all.
Maybe everyone belongs at the manger because Jesus belongs to everyone.
The reality is that we all can find a place there. For some, it may be a beautiful, quiet pastoral scene, warmed by a gentle light. For some, it may be a place of refuge, a stop on a hard fought journey, shrouded in darkness. For some, it may be a place of peace and joy, for some a place of comfort and rest. For some, it may be the only place you feel you belong.
And you do. Everyone does.
