Being part of the effort to recreate the Christmas story was a sweet experience. Five practices prepared the choir to remember when and where to enter, and how to enunciate the words. This did as much as the hours I spent perching glass balls on pine branches to immerse me in the season. 

 

Some of us have participated for multiple years. For others, this was a step into the unknown. As we tried on costumes, we asked each other about this.

 

"I haven't been in the tableaux for twenty-six years." 

 

I thought she looked about twenty-six years old.

 

"I was baby Jesus," she laughed at our confusion. 

 

One of my favorite parts is to watch the face of the mother of the baby playing that part as she walks up to see him or her closely. Everyone is moved by the combination of surround sound singing, and the innocence of a baby only a few weeks old. But for the woman who is still healing from birth, seeing her newborn in this profound setting, basking, or sleeping in the adoration of hundreds of people is deeply precious. 

 

Among the throng of musicians and angels, there were two women who are with child. I smiled quietly with one of them as she marveled at the baby inside her even now, the size of the candle she was holding. Another woman who had never been able to bear children portrayed Elizabeth, who was barren for most of her life. I gazed into her eyes as she looked at the woman playing Mary, and could not hold back the tears. 

 

For me, the meaning of Christmas, rests in the awareness that God came to earth to be close to us. Being part of this service makes that very real. And as if that were not enough, we are invited to go to heaven to be close to Him.