Pageantry...(have you ever seen an angel/star/wiseman pick his/her nose?)

'Tis the Season



Tis the season...Christmas Pageantry has arrived. 

Christmas pageants, like so many elements of the holidays, ratchet up expectations.  Which, inevitably, means your own expectations.  Almost everyone, churchgoers and non-churchgoers, believers and atheists, whatever label you slap on yourself--almost everyone has some enchanted memory of a winter holiday, often including something like a candlelight Mass, Christmas concert, holiday party, etc, when finally:  for a brief, sparkling moment of festivus, the world was equal parts beauty and magic.  The trouble comes, when later, you cannot find that moment again, no matter how hard you look.

Which brings us to the pageantry.  Today's rehearsal is confidential:  my church is a group of people I consider to be extended family.  Hence, actual facts must be omitted...because we all have expectations, and the greatest of these (in most cases, at least) are our children.  Pageantry makes a parent humble.  In the past, my children have played the baby Jesus, angels, stars, innkeepers, shepherds, etc.  Thank God, my baby Jesus behaved.  By the time my 3rd child was of age to play Jesus the Babe, my nerves were shot...I begged a fellow parishioner, whose baby was fresh and new, to let her baby play the part.  Because, I was older, and KNEW my limitations.  Rationally, I knew that Baby Jesus (MY baby Jesus) could scream to kingdom come for the entire pageant and that people would chuckle kindly, and that there would be a quiet sea of empathetic murmurings from the moms in the congregation, but that really, it would be just fine.  Emotionally, the very thought caused me unacceptable palpitations.  No f*cking way.  I called my friend, who happily agreed to play Mary, tote her own sweet and beloved offspring to the stable, and call it a night.

Here are some things I have personally witnessed, at Christmas pageants past, present and future (so you know there's some fiction here, but work with me...):  one friendly beast kicking another (siblings); an angel picking her nose; a star wetting her pants; an entire choir not singing; an entire choir singing with NO discernible melody.  Sometimes you can catch a wise man getting his myrrh stuck in his neighbor's hat, and sometimes the Baby Jesus doll gets hurled across the sanctuary.  Sometimes the stage hands hammer while the stars are singing and the Innkeeper goes by Judas of Marriott (thanks for that, Tom Hay!).  To sum up, shit happens.

Here is my point--whatever pageantry you attend this year, Christian, Pagan, Whatever Holiday Doesn't Offend You--bring your expectations.  But expect that you will leave with different ones.  If you think your sweet baby angel is going to sing like one, that you might see actually starlight in her hair as she sings her heavenly song, then most certainly, she will sneeze a great, goopy, green sneeze, mid-anthem and wipe it on her white angel's garment.  But if you are lucky (even blessed), you might catch your angel's eye, post-sneeze, wink and let her know she is the most precious one of all...and if you are very lucky, you will have so many of these precious moments that they might all run together .  Both you and your angel will know that the purpose of pageantry is love, laughter and sharing these gifts with a cold, windy world. 

So.  Wipe your nose and enjoy.