07 February 2018

Sermon Christmas Eve 4 p.m. 2017 Luke 2:8-20 Year B

         A few years ago I was amused by an article I saw on-line in early December. The United Kingdom-based supermarket giant        Sainsbury’s reported that Nativity plays were sending tea towel sales “through the roof.” Apparently, striped cotton tea towels lead double lives, functioning in the kitchen on a daily basis, but also moonlighting as headdresses for most characters in Nativity plays. Wise men and shepherds, Joseph, the Virgin Mary, all wear these tea towels, at least in the British Isles. It seems that in December, tea towel sales at Sainsbury’s soars from an average of 4,000 towels a week to nearly 12,000. This rise in sales is known in the trade as “The Bethlehem Boost,” according to Sainsbury’s kitchenware buyer.  All this is amusing enough, of course, but my favorite part came at the end of the article.
         According to the spokesperson, regular tea towels sell well, as parents want their children to look their best since many Nativity plays are now videotaped. The spokesperson went on to say that, “…sales of a more sophisticated tea towel, with yellow, blue, brown, and white stripes are also going well. We suspect that these are being chosen by Virgin Marys who want to stand out from the crowd and make a fashion statement.”[1]
         Frankly, I find this article amusing, enlightening, and a bit frightening. It’s certainly amusing; we can all laugh about tea towel sales and Nativity plays. Many of us participated in those plays as a child. It’s enlightening, and actually a bit refreshing that so many Nativity plays are still happening. But it’s also a bit frightening that the attitude of being better looking and more fashionably dressed has even taken over Nativity plays. Perhaps Nativity plays are feeling the influence of U-Tube.
         Setting that aside, however, this entire article reminded me of the best Nativity play I’ve ever seen. Luke’s Gospel tonight is the classic from which most Nativity plays and characters have been modeled. A few years ago in a parish I served, the Sunday School director had an inspired idea. We had a discussion about how many people had mentioned to her that as children, they never got to be the character they really wanted to be. That year, as the children processed into the church, they carried in several large baskets. The baskets were labeled, “Mary, Joseph, Shepherds, Angels,” and so on.
At the end of the Nativity play, the Sunday School director told her own story about who she’d always wanted to be in the Nativity play. And then she invited everyone who always wanted to be someone else, or had never been in a play, to put on a costume and join the children in front of the altar. The response was overwhelming.
I’m not as sure of my statistics as Sainsbury’s was, but I think we had eleven Virgin Marys, twenty or so shepherds, a half-dozen Josephs, camels, Wise Men, you name it. And you know, nearly everyone up there, and nearly everyone in the church was teary-eyed.
We might be a bit shocked that parents are so concerned about their children’s appearance that they run out to invest in new tea towels. But, perhaps those parents are answering their own deep longing to be a part of the greatest story we know. Which of us has not imagined ourselves as one of those characters? Be honest now, if you were involved in a Nativity play as a child, did you end up as a shepherd but long to be Joseph? Did you have curly dark hair and watch the blonde-haired blue-eyed girls get the part of Mary year after year? Were you relegated as a sheep when you wanted to be a Wise Man? Did you get stuck as a villager when you wanted to be a camel? Who are you in the Nativity play in your mind and heart? Which of Luke’s characters are you? Are you watching on the sidelines or are you in the middle of the scene as one of the lead characters?
         When you come up for Communion, take a look at our beautiful Nativity set, or crèche. I invite you after the service to come and look. I invite you you to imagine yourself in the scene at the manger. What are your deepest longings about the Christmas story? Who are you in this scene and what does this mean to your life? How can God take that longing to be part of Jesus’ birth and use you and your longing to bring light to the world? How is God calling you to use your longing to do something about the longings of others? Be a part of the Christmas story, the greatest story ever told, and the beginning of the salvation of the world. AMEN.

The Rev Nicolette Papanek
©2017

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