Barry’s Christmas lesson
In Atlanta , there was a lively eleven-year-old boy who had managed to created a disaster in every Christmas Eve skit he had been in. One year, Barry got too close to the altar candles and his wings caught fire. The next year he played Herod the Great, and while sitting on his throne, Barry had a great idea, he reached down and jerked the carpet out from under the three wise men dumping them on their heads. And the year after his whispered question to Joseph was heard throughout the sanctuary: “Hey Joe, when are you going to pass out the cigars.” As a result, many in the congregation wanted to return to the “midnight communion only” days when there were no children present at Christmas Eve. And even all of our 1975 teachers, had a boycott Barry attitude. But how could a little guy who tried his best to behave and loved Jesus with all his heart be rejected? So I convinced them that he could not mess up by playing the innkeeper of Bethlehem. All he had to do was open our fire door by the altar and speak one line.
Barry did great through all the rehearsals. Then on Christmas Eve when mothers, fathers, friends, relatives and strangers sat in hushed silence reliving the Christmas story, Barry had his chance to “redeem” himself. He opened the door of the inn. His mouth fell open and his eyes got saucer big as he looked straight into the face of a donkey on which sat a very sad and pale Mary. By the way, we didn’t use the donkey in rehearsals. But Barry came through! With great professional emphasis and timing, he said: “Be gone, I have no room for the likes of you!” Mary and Joseph turned sadly away into the cold, snow flurried Atlanta night. But Barry stood at the open door of his inn. Those who were in the front rows began to shiver from the cold, then they saw tears well up in Barry’s eyes and his lips tremble: “Wait!” It came like a thunderclap. Every heart in the room stopped! “Wait! You can have my room!” All bedlam broke loose. Children and parents laughed, grandparents cried, teachers were outraged and pandemonium reigned. Barry had ruined another Christmas play!”
I quieted the congregation by putting my arm around Barry, walking to the center of the aisle, saying: “Perhaps Barry has the right message after all. For dear little Jesus can only enter those people who have room in their hearts for the outcasts of life. When from his prison cell, John the Baptist asked Jesus if He was the Messiah, Jesus said: “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised and the poor have good news brought to them” (Matt. 11:2-5). Jesus is more than a little baby who is nice to rock and cuddle. Jesus is the Savior of the world who says to every turned away, ostracized person: “Wait! Wait, you can have my room. For in my house are many rooms and I go to prepare a place just for you” (Jn. 14:1-4).
Christmas Eve service Dec. 24
All are welcome to join the members of the Fishers of Men Lutheran Church on Friday, Dec. 24, beginning at 7 p.m. for a Christmas Eve Candlelight service.