“Jesus was born for the Herdmans as much as he was for us.”
Each year our family reads The Best Christmas Pageant Ever as we journey to Christmas. The culmination of this book always ends with a living room camp out, popcorn and snacks and a viewing of the 1983 television movie version.
Every year I cry when Leroy brings the ham to church. Every year.
Needless to say when Peanut and I first saw the trailer for the updated version - we knew we HAD to see it.
Yesterday we took our fuzzy blankets, bought the yummy popcorn, and settled in to watch what we were already sure was going to be our new favorite movie.
For those that haven't read this book, it takes place in the town of Emmanuel where the church puts on a Christmas pageant ever year. It's the same one every year. Mary. Joseph. Baby Jesus. Wise Men. Shepherds. Angels.
It's the time when the church "oohs" and "ahhs" over the adorableness of the church children.
Everyone knows what to expect.
Until this year. On this year in a conundrum of events, the church lady who runs the pageant is injured, Grace takes over and the Herdmans show up demanding the lead roles.
The Herdmans are a sibling set of unparented children known to be rough. They've never showed up in church before. Not once.
Once the Herdmans have secured the lead roles, play practice begins.
But the Herdmans don't know the story. They keep interrupting.
What do you mean Herod wanted to kill the baby? Who did something about that? What do you mean no one would let a pregnant lady stay in their home for the night? Who makes a baby be born in a barn?
The Herdmans are outraged by the story of the birth of Jesus.
They have to know more. They demand to know more.
They are inquisitive, they wrestle with the details, they engage with the scripture.
When the Herdmans take the stage the night of the pageant, they encounter Jesus.
It's that simple.
They have prepared for the birth of this baby.
They have grown in their faith.
They have experienced the Christmas story.
And they encounter Jesus.
The Herdmans are the unloved, the unwelcome, the unchurched, the dirty, the poor, the refugee.
Jesus is for the Herdmans too.
Mama Warriors, as I let Mo drag me around the neighborhood this morning, I thought about this idea of encountering Jesus.
Everyone who watched that Christmas pageant encountered Jesus BECAUSE of the Herdmans.
Not in spite of.
We've created churches where no one experiences Jesus because we aren't welcoming the Herdmans of the world.
As they are.
We aren't experiencing Jesus because we think we already know the story.
Mary. Joseph. Perhaps a donkey. An angel.
A tale as old as time.
Maybe this year you read the story as if you were a Herdman on the first day of the pageant.
Maybe you chase those "why's" and dig into scripture like never before.
Maybe you make space in your heart for the marginalized, the oppressed, the different.
And maybe, just maybe, when you show up on Christmas Eve to worship - you will experience Jesus as you have no other Christmas Eve.
"Shazaaaammmm!"
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