Christmas Programs

I didn't go to my 13 year old daughter's Christmas choir concert this week, but did go to my 10 year old son's. Why one and not the other? For my daughter, Sarah, the concert meant little more than the inconvenience of dressing up and being away from her reading. Sarah has a good choir teacher, but choir's pretty much forced upon her, so she's never been too motivated. She, like many of her classmates, does what's required without becoming too invested.

It happened that I had an important meeting at the same time as her concert. Now, if she would have wanted me at her concert, I wouldn't have missed it; but since she didn't want to be there herself, she preferred to inconvenience as few people as possible. So, I didn't go. My wife, Nancy, did go and reported that “it was nice”—and that's about it.

My son, James, though, is in the class for Special Needs children. Besides joining with the others in singing, he had to memorize a joke and a line for his role as a deer. He had been ready for a couple of weeks. Without saying to each other why, we all knew we had to be there to witness it. So, mom and dad, both sets of grandparents, and big sister were all present in the auditorium.

Accompanied by aides, therapists, and teachers, 18 children came out on stage: four by way of wheels, one by way of a walker, and 13 by foot—though each with his or her distinctive gait. Some had feathers, others had masks or tree parts, and my son proudly wore antlers. Most all had big grins.

The kids stood there across the stage for a couple of moments until everything was set for them to begin. James made such an effort to stand up straight, chest out, with a beaming smile. He looked around in the sparse audience (maybe 60 in a room that holds 400), spotted us, stuck his arm straight out and enthusiastically waved his hand, saying, “Hi Dad!” That alone was worth my coming. He then saw his sister who had gotten out of her class to attend and said to a friend, “That's my sister!”

Before it started, I also had time to wonder about each child's issues. The wheelchair-bound had obvious special needs. One Down Syndrome girl did not seem to be very aware and required an aide's constant assistance. Whether it was unkempt hair, odd body angles, or extra movement, most were clearly recognizable as “different.” A couple, though, looked like kids in any regular class, leaving me guessing as to what their issues were.

As I thought about it later, lined up there, they reminded me, strangely I grant, of a police lineup. Of course, none of them had committed any crimes, though some might say they stood there as victims of an unjust world. And one could see no shame-filled eyes, guilty looks, or hardened expressions--only joyous eyes, tender hearts and innocence. My heart was aching before it even began.

And they began with jokes! Silly kids, don't they know that some people would say that the world has played a cruel joke on them? And yet they told jokes . . . they told jokes . . . with the help of some loving adults. The speech therapist, a kind-hearted young woman, held the microphone up to each one—occasionally giving them a little prompting. Several of the kids, not having the vocal ability, told their jokes by using speech devices. They say there's great skill in telling and timing the punch line just right; I think it's more about heart, and all the laughing friends and family confirmed that.

James was so excited to hear the laughter from his punchline, that he kept repeating it over and over—even later in the program when he was supposed to be a talking deer, wanting all of us to know what you call a cow at the North Pole: an Eskimoo!

Shortly after that, James tired out and lost his focus, so his aide led him to us, where he went from lap to lap watching his class sing a bunch of Christmas carols. Yes, there was “canned music” giving them background support. Yes, not many were on key. Yes, not all knew the lyrics. Yes, a couple of the kids' singing was much like moaning. And yet, their singing was unsurpassed! Unsurpassed, that is, if one judges the value of singing by its ability to communicate warmth, love, and joy. Is there any other standard more important?

18 kids with issues, with special needs, who not long ago would have been commonly referred to as retarded. 18 kids we often pity. 18 kids we sometimes thank our lucky stars that we're not like them or have them as our own. There's no need to pity them. On that stage, they shone. They loved and felt loved. They blessed and were blessed. They felt significant and were significant. They joined together to join us all together in getting to the heart of the Christmas Story.

What does it mean for God to come among us as a Child? How is “God with us”?

As I mentioned earlier, to appreciate to the meaning of Jesus' coming, we must get inside the skin of the typical 1^st Century Israelite. The people of Israel were not enjoying widespread peace and contentment. They were not bored or complacent. No, their heads were pinned under the boots of Roman soldiers, foreigners oppressing God's people in what was supposed to be their Promised Land. Israel was so far removed from it's glory days—and how they wanted them back. How they wanted a Messiah to rise up and lead them in revolt, to send the tax-collectors and sell-outs packing.

In the Christmas Story itself, hatred, pain, and humiliation are ever-present—though not always obvious. Mary and Joseph were traveling at such a difficult time because of a census, the main purpose of which was to extract more money for pagan Rome. And in today's text, we get a prime example of the well-documented cruelty of King Herod as he kills off all the young boys in a village in search of the One he deemed a threat.

The truth is that Jesus came into a world full of injustice and violence. The truth is that the people of Israel had been yearning for a Messiah for years. One of their prophets had cried out, “O, that you would tear the heavens and come down!” While the prophet didn't say it, the people would have added, “that you would come down and exact vengeance on all the pagans and foreigners!”

God would come to answer the call for help, but would come in a way that would surprise everyone. He would not come in anger. He would not come in all his strength. He would come in weakness . . . as a baby, in vulnerability, in complete dependance upon his earthly parents.

Yes, he would come to overthrow Herod's kingdom and every other kingdom set up through injustice, violence, and hate. Yes, as Scot McKnight puts it, “the Messiah Jesus was destined to rule above and beyond Herod the Great. Not as a result of violence; not as a result of usurping the throne through military victory ... but through a kingdom of a completely different order: through compassion, through love, through self-denial, through the cross, through the power of the resurrection, and through a community that would surround and follow Jesus.”

Let's go back to the Christmas program with the special needs kids. How did that program communicate the truth of Christmas? First, let's consider the kids as representatives of all of us, for do we not all have issues and special needs? We are just better able to hide them from others—and also to hurt others.

Next then, let's consider the presence of God. Where did God show up in subtle and unexpected ways? Remember the aid who had her arms around the girl with Down Syndrome? Remember the speech therapist holding the microphone and whispering into ears? Did you remember the other aides who pushed wheelchairs, wiped drool, and kept everyone in line? And though I didn't mention it, you know there was a director of the program just off stage, don't you?

18 kids with issues, serious issues, could not have pulled off that life-affirming, life-giving program alone. But God's love came to them, incarnated, in-fleshed through those compassionate adults. They comforted, coached, held, encouraged, and delighted in those kids, enabling them to bless, seriously bless, those in the audience.

Truly, on that stage, there were obvious reminders that this world is not just, that this world is not the way it's supposed to be. And even more truly, there were reminders that salvation cannot come by vengeance, force, or brute power; it only comes through love willing to suffer for others. And so God came among us as a baby, and taught, and healed, and loved, and suffered, and was raised from the dead: New Creation. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.

Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.

Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.”

Matthew 5:3-8

Comments

[Lisa]

I'm so glad that you posted this here. I was so moved when I heard in church and I have wanted to share the story with some people but couldn't do it justice. Now I can send the link. Thank you for sharing.

[Greg]

Powerful, moving, real...just like Jesus!