And what would Christmas be without innumerable Christmas parties, people griping about Christmas music, compulsively updated retail sales figures, overly eggnogged divorcées macking on married men on trains¹, and the children’s pageant at church? I’ll tell you what it would be: no fun at all, that’s what.

Southern Gables’ Christmas pageant was last Sunday night. Normally this is rather prosaically called the “Children’s Christmas Musical,” or something like that. Today’s evangelicals have lost none of their parents’ drive to put on a cute show for the kids in mid-December, but we’re far too jaded and savvy just to put on the old-school Christmas play with sheep and shepherds and Mary and Joseph and Baby Jesus and the Magi. A bathrobe and a towel on the head? So 1975. Preschoolers dressed as sheep? Been there, experienced the trauma as a kid, done the counseling. A gaudy Herod costume, and ostentatiously dressed Magi? Puh-leeze.

No, none of the old and busted Christmas programs for us, thanks. We need something fresher, something more accessible to today’s churchgoer, something more in touch with popular culture. Problem is, as Kenneth Myers has explained, popular culture tends to be an inadequate container for much of the Gospel message. Its highest value is easy consumption; as such, it can never give to its participants more than they bring to the table themselves. It can never really challenge, it can never really fertilize, it can never really expand the minds of its participants. It can never contain the message of the Gospel without altering in important ways.

Now, I’d happily stipulate that the Christmas story can be expressed as a fairly simple narrative needing a less capable vehicle than is required by the whole apostolic kerygma, and in so doing bypass this whole criticism. But punched-up modern children’s Christmas musicals typically boast of their “strong evangelistic message.” They don’t want merely to be retellings of the story of Christ’s birth. Having no church calendar to speak of, non-liturgical evangelicals feel nervous if they celebrate only the birth of Christ on Christmas. There is an urgency to work Good Friday and Easter into the celebration of Christmas; after all–and this is accurate, as far as it goes–Christmas never saved anybody.

Combine this with a heaping helping of semi-pelagianism–whose antibodies, although congregations like mine might explicitly deny them, are yet in our evangelical blood–and a Christmas play for kids can’t simply be a Christmas play. It can’t just tell the story of the birth of the One we are celebrating; it has to rush into a Gospel presentation. We can’t trust God to build his kingdom through each little plank of a well-thought-out schedule of celebrations, even if some of them lack an obvious altar call at the end. Please don’t get me wrong: gospel presentations are very good things, but discomfort with the “mere” telling of the Christmas story is surely a symptom whose underlying disease we ought to cure. We will deny feeling any of this discomfort, but our cultural artifacts betray us.

Enter the refreshingly refined aesthetic of our own talented publishing magnate Stephanie Nelson. To be fair, she did not create some paragon of high culture in this year’s musical. I’m the first to admit that I am insufficiently trained to be able fully to appreciate that kind of thing, and the cross-section of southwest suburban Denverites that attend Southern Gables are on average no better prepared than I. That might be the real antithesis of the TV Show Knock-Off Christmas Musical, but the fact remains that I mostly wouldn’t get it if we did it.

Instead, our pageant was unabashedly classical in an approachable kind of way. It wanted to be old-school, and it was not sorry about it one bit. An angel choir, shepherds (and shepherdesses!), Magi, Mary, Joseph, The Baby, Gabriel, a donkey, Herod…we told the story of Luke 1 and 2 with easy costumes and timeless (to us) songs. The kids were cute. There was no pretense and no attempt to be hip or trendy. We could do this every year–creatively, innovatively, and skillfully–and I wouldn’t get tired of it. Kudos to Stephanie and the team who put it all together. (It is not just a coincidence that this team includes Mrs. Berglund. Especially big kudos to her.)

Whatever, Tim. Can you just show us the pictures of your kids?

Why, yes; yes I can. So, enough of this pseudo-intellectual cultural criticism! Let’s drop down to shameless exploitation of my children for the full cuteness effect.

My four-year-old as a part of the multitude of angels who were praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men on whom His favor rests.” Her version of events: “I got to go on the stage!”

The Sunday morning preview of the full event. My seven-year-old is on the left, and the lovely Mrs. Nelson can be seen directly behind the two singers.

Same duet, same girls, only in costume the night of the performance. Thank you for asking, but no, they don’t get cuter.

My son the urban shepherd [best photo available]. It struck me that his droopy headdress looked something like a backwards ball cap. Combined with his zip-off nylon pants, his anachronistic footwear, and his easygoing posture, he really brought an intercultural feel to the pageant that is normally all too rare in the 80123 ZIP code.

¹No, really! Last Friday on the way to the Blogger Bash. Weird, man. I’m not the kind of guy who normally attracts that kind of attention, but combine sufficient quantities of eggnog with a big crowd of people going downtown to see the Parade Of Lights, and there’s no telling what will happen.

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• Posted by Tim on Saturday, December 13, 2003 at 4:36:38 pm PST
• Category: Theology
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