The Pageant and the Cross

We held our annual Christmas Pageant at St. Michael’s early this year—December 15—because one faithful family was heading out of town the following week.

It was the first accommodation with many to follow. Their daughter said yes to playing Mary, so the adjustment was well worth it. Her spiritual nature and insights in Godly Play made her a perfect fit.

The second accommodation came when our Director of Music flew home to Austria to be with his family. I had to ensure the guest organist knew which Christmas Carols we would sing. 

Uncertainty loomed as the date drew near, so I knew additional accommodations were on the horizon. Would we have enough children? Would there be a Joseph? Three Magi or only two? We had plenty of stuffed sheep, but would we have a shepherd to herd them? 

We have years with a full cast, and we have years with lean ones. And this year, going into it, I knew it would be lean. But those families saying “yes” were faithful. 

A promise for two angels, two Magi, the star, and Mary. 

When Sunday afternoon came, the uncertainty became certainty when a parishioner’s three grandchildren walked up the sidewalk to the church. It was God’s small miracle for me. It had only been a little over a year since the main director and volunteer of the Christmas Pageant unexpectedly passed away. She was much loved by the parish, and Christmas was her favorite time of year.  

I retyped the pageant bulletin she created to fit our present needs. Joshua and Elisha had big shoes to fill following their predecessors in these roles. I felt a kinship to these biblical characters of the past. They were second and asked to walk behind giants. 

On this particular Sunday, I was truly thankful to God for mercifully supplying all our needs. Even in the sighting of the unexpected Cross during the pageant hour!  

I supplied paper and crayons for children to color with as they waited to go on stage. I know children have energy and want to start to run around when they are waiting for long periods, especially in the side room off the sanctuary. As a teacher, I thought keeping these little hands busy would preempt the energy of our cast. But it was from these sheets of paper and crayons that one of the boys drew and colored in a large brown cross. He carried this sheet of paper with him when he went on stage. This was the second year for the boy to play Joseph, and throughout most of the pageant, he held the paper high for everyone to see. 

Standing at the podium as the pageant narrator, I thought about my dilemma. My inclination as a classroom teacher was to walk over and quietly ask him to put the picture aside, as it was too soon for the Cross in the Big Scheme of Things, and I would explain later. But as the pageant’s director, my role was different. The show must go on, and I knew these were children. Yes, the pageant features a spectacular and joyous birth story with singing angels, a moving star in the heavens, and foreigners coming from afar. But this brown cross was a child’s spiritual and artistic expression, and would not have been kind to interrupt him. He belongs to a different church tradition than mine, and I recognized this cross as his devotion. Interfaith and ecumenical expression, as an Episcopalian, is something I always try to support. So, the cross remained in the pageant. When the three gifts appeared at the foot of the manger, our “Joseph” folded the paper and placed it in the Magi’s wooden box.

The unexpectedness of the cross at the pageant will stay with me for a long time. I am interested to know more about what the young artist was thinking, and I hope someday I can ask him. Perhaps he captured the essence of what Simeon, a godly man in the Temple at Jesus’ presentation, said to Mary, “Behold, this Child is appointed for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and for a sign to be opposed—and a sword will pierce even your own soul—to the end that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed” (Luke 2:34-35).

It is on the Feast Day of the Presentation, February 2, that this scripture is recited in the Episcopal Church. There is an abundance of celebration by parents, angels, shepherds, and magi, but before the child is even six weeks old, Simeon offers these poignant prophetic words. One day, a sword will pierce Mary’s soul as a spear pierces Jesus’ side. Perhaps this glimpse of Holy Week during a Christmas pageant wasn’t a dilemma after all.