xmlns:og='http://ogp.me/ns#' The Mid-Week Message: Matthew's "Best Christmas Pageant Ever"

Monday, December 2, 2013

Matthew's "Best Christmas Pageant Ever"

December 3, 2013

Dear St. Paul's Family,

It may be fortuitous that my preparations for this Sunday’s journey through Matthew’s birth narrative coincide with this weekend’s performances of “A Best Christmas Pageant Ever” by the Cherokee Community Theater, Jr.  A cast of over fifty children, including Grace and Madelyn, have been working hard to bring to life Barbara Robinson’s beloved tale of a church Christmas play gone very wrong.  If you are thinking of attending the show, I can assure you - - as one of the assistant stage managers who has attended many of the rehearsals - - you are in for a riotous good time.

It would be pure conjecture on my part, but I suspect that if the four gospel writers were to attend the play this weekend, Matthew would appreciate it the most.  Of all four gospels, it is his that portrays the arrival of Jesus with similar chaotic overtones.  For example: 

When Mrs. Bradley decides to cast the main characters of the nativity with the infamous Herdman kids, described as “the worst kids in the history of the world,” you can almost hear Matthew clicking through his genealogy in the first chapter:  a prostitute, an adulterer and murderer, a hot-headed megalomaniac … all members of Jesus’ ancestry. 

When the Herdmans first hear that Mary was “great with child,” they chose not to mince words:  “Pregnant!” yelled Ralph Herdman.  That caused quite a stir among the kids, who thought it was inappropriate to “talk about things like that in church. My mother might not want me to be here.”  It was the kind of scandal that Matthew would best appreciate, given how much Joseph wrestled over what to do with Mary in Matthew 1:18-21.

And then there is this wonderful scene regarding Herod:

(The Herdmans) were really interested in Herod, and I figured they liked him. He was so mean he could have been their ancestor—Herod Herdman.  But I was wrong. “Who’s going to be Herod in this play?” Leroy said. “We don’t show Herod in our pageant,” Mother said.  And they all got mad.  They wanted somebody to be Herod so they could beat up on him.

I’m pretty sure Matthew would have gotten a chuckle out of that one. 

Matthew would remind us that, despite the foreground of placid pastures, grazing sheep, star-filled night skies, and angelic choirs, the background into which Jesus was born was a big, mess world.  It was riddled with hurts and pains, governed by paranoia, and driven by scandal.  It was a landscape filled with shadows and strife:  a far cry from the serene scenes of our greeting cards, Christmas carols, and nativity crèches. 

As we go through our guided tour through the Christmas stories of all four gospels, we make a stop this Sunday at Matthew’s version, realizing that its context could have easily jumped off the headlines of today's newspapers.  It would not be much of a stretch to see Matthew speaking directly to a culture peppered with Black Friday bloodshed, Typhoon destruction, political gamesmanship, and addictions to violence.  And that doesn’t even include the chaos that may be swirling in your spirit as well.  The dilemmas you may be facing right now cover a gamut of concerns, from how you will pay the bills to how you will forgive a betrayal.  Advertisers, retailers, and even many preachers would want you to believe that this is supposed to be a time of good cheer and great delight.  But you know better. 

And do know something else?  Matthew knows better, too.

This Sunday, let us allow his gospel to guide us to an authentic encounter with the Christ child.  Not by pretending that all is well, but by acknowledging how much is not.  When we arrive at the manger, with sweaty brows, calloused feat, and sore necks from heads hung low, we will identify with that same emotion that overcame Imogene Herdman as she was playing Mary:

In the candlelight her face was all shiny with tears and she didn’t even bother to wipe them away.  She just sat there—awful old Imogene—in her crookedy veil, crying and crying and crying.  Well.  It was the best Christmas pageant we ever had.

Grace and Peace,

Magrey 

The Rev. Magrey R. deVega
St. Paul's United Methodist Church
531 W. Main St.
Cherokee, IA  51012
Ph:  712-225-3955

Email:  mdevega@sp-umc.org



To subscribe to this weekly message via email, send a message to mdevega@sp-umc.org.
Visit us on Facebook at facebook.com/cherokeespumc

No comments:

Post a Comment