Gentle Advent
Every year at Christmas, my husband’s family acts out the story of the Nativity and sings carols together. It’s our most cherished Christmas tradition, and everybody is involved: adults and children alike––whether they say they feel like it or not (and inevitably, by the end, everybody feels it). There are four grown children in the family and four spouses, and a total of twelve grandchildren, ranging from one to twenty-one years old. We all pass around the parts every year. Nobody rehearses, it’s all staged on the fly, and there’s no pressure to be perfect. It’s a whole vibe.
My mother-in-law, affectionately called “Mimi,” has collected and created a variety of costumes over the years. Over time, she has edited the script and song lyrics so they make sense for the ages of the kids. There is a narrator who tells the story based on the gospel of Luke, and the script has simple lines for Mary, Joseph, the Angel Gabriel, the Magi, and the shepherds. Carols are woven throughout the script, and if there are musicians present, they play instruments to accompany the singing––sometimes a guitar and piano, sometimes a ukulele and banjo. Those who don’t have costumed roles participate by singing and sometimes encouraging the little ones by helping them with their lines and stage cues.
Mimi sets a simple “stage” by hanging a blue sheet over the piano nestled by the Christmas tree, and she passes out stars and candles for everyone to hold. Laughter and smiles emerge from the group as parents and grandparents participate in the story alongside the children. And those present can’t help but get pulled into the drama of the incarnation: I almost always tear up when we turn out the lights and sing the old French folk song, “Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella,” holding our candles:
Hasten now — Good folk of the village — Hasten now — The Christ child to see — You will find him — Asleep in the manger — Quietly come — Whisper softly — Ah, ah — Beautiful is the mother — Ah, ah —Beautiful is her son
The annual Christmas play is joyful, fun, and sometimes silly but also full of mystery and awe. It’s always a delight to see how gently the angel, typically one of the youngest of the grandchildren, places the baby doll Jesus in the manger, and how lovingly Mary cradles the newborn child.
When we invite children to play the parts of the nativity, we are inviting them into an awareness of the story itself. Young children learn through play, and they make deeper points of connection as they grow and notice more about the story each year. This is why I am so thrilled about the new StoryMakers’ Advent Theater House.
The Advent Theater House offers children and families a new way to play with Christmas stories through creativity and imagination. It’s the first material created with funds from the generous grant that StoryMakers received from the Christian Parenting and Caregiving Initiative through the Lilly Endowment. Participants in the Spark Faith at Home cohort already received the Advent Theater House in early November, and they gathered online for a training session to explore ways to use it with the young people in their lives.
A helpful guidebook comes with the Advent Theater House––it sets the stage for the story and encourages grown-ups to open their imaginations as they get started:
“You are invited to retell ‘the greatest story ever told’ with characters and scripts for each week of Advent. Kids are invited to play all the parts, and they will be delighted to find that many of the characters are shown as animals… When you think of a royal prince arriving, you might imagine a fancy palace of a huge castle full of sparkling armor, elegant jewels, and frilly soft beds… But that is not how this story goes. In our story, the Prince of Peace arrives in a hidden place, a small place where you would never imagine a prince showing up.”
The Nativity is as gentle as a mother cradling a baby––and as wondrous as the Prince of Peace coming to earth as a child. We pray that you will come close to the holy mystery of this Advent through imagination, connection, and play.
