What The Best Christmas Pageant Ever teaches us about being true Christians — even when the Herdmans come to our church.
When I was growing up, one of my favorite holiday stories was The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson. The book, published in 1972 and later adapted into a TV movie and stage play, tells the story of the six Herdman siblings, “absolutely the worst kids in the history of the world,” who somehow get tangled up in their town church’s Christmas pageant and wind up giving the congregation a new appreciation of the Nativity story.
As a kid, I laughed at the many outrageous deeds the Herdmans — Ralph, Imogene, Leroy, Claude, Ollie and Gladys — perpetrated on their long-suffering neighbors: smoking cigars in the church ladies’ room, blackmailing the fat boys and girls, and stealing anything that wasn’t nailed down. But as I reread the story as an adult, I’m struck by the sadness of their situation and Robinson’s overriding plea for the church to get beyond lifeless religion and learn from Jesus what it means to welcome everyone.
Certainly, the nameless church in the book (no denomination is mentioned, but it’s safe to assume it’s some variety of Protestant) isn’t the most welcoming place. Its members are stuck in a dull routine that bears little resemblance to vibrant Christianity, presenting the Christmas story the same way every year, with the same perfectionistic people in the roles, and boring everyone in the process. They seem to only care about keeping up appearances and staying busy among themselves.
Still, the church has one thing going for it — or so it thinks. As the young narrator’s brother points out, “What I like best about Sunday school is that there aren’t any Herdmans here.” And the rest of the community finds it pointless to change that: “We figured they were headed straight for hell, by way of the state penitentiary.”
But once the Herdmans strong-arm their way into the lead roles in the pageant, the congregation gets a rude awakening that causes it to rethink assumptions and ask some hard questions — questions that we, as American Christians heading into the second decade of the 21st century, should perhaps be asking ourselves as well.
1. Are We Welcoming the Rejected Ones? How many of us like going to church because “there aren’t any (fill in the blank: liberals, conservatives, African Americans, whites, Latinos, Asians, gays and lesbians, rich people, poor people, single people, divorced people, etc.) here”? Who do we too quickly write off as “headed straight for hell,” refusing to consider what God might be up to and who he might be calling to faith and repentance? Who would you be surprised to see show up at your church, especially in December, when lots of “Christmas-and-Easter” people come to services? Will you make them feel welcome so they want to come back the next week?
2. Are We Teaching the Unchurched? As the United States continues turning into a post-Christian nation, fewer people will be familiar with the Bible and basic Christian teaching. Like the Herdmans, they may barely know the Christmas story and need it explained from the beginning. Will you be patient and willing to teach, letting your eyes be opened to new understandings of passages that have become too familiar?
3. Are We Remembering the Orphans? Like too many children today, the Herdmans were growing up without a father (he had bailed on the family when Gladys was a toddler), and essentially without a mother (who worked double shifts to stay away from her crazy kids). How can the church step in to help children in this situation (and their single parents)? What’s the difference between collecting food for the Orphans Home, as the Sunday school classes in the book did, and actually befriending the de facto orphans down the street?
4. Are We Staying Focused on the Main Thing? Are you open-minded to other people’s way of doing things, or do you think your way is the only way? The narrator’s mother got stuck with directing the pageant when the regular director was hospitalized. She is criticized for letting the Herdmans take over, but defends herself: “Helen Armstrong is not the only woman alive who can run a Christmas pageant.” What do you care the most about during Christmas: maintaining traditions and being in control, or worshiping Jesus?
5. Are We Walking by Faith, No Matter How Impractical? Acceptance and hospitality don’t mean that you never confront people when they’re living in a way that doesn’t line up with God’s will — or that you’re nice to people on the surface while refusing to forgive them in your heart. The Herdmans stole from the church and abused its property, but in the end, they realized what Jesus came into the world to do and even refused to take gifts the church offered them. The narrator’s parents realized that welcoming the Herdmans wasn’t “a practical sentiment,” but it was a Christian one. Forgiveness and reconciliation aren’t always practical, either, but they are commands from God. How will you work toward them this season?
I wonder what might have happened to the Herdman kids after their one shot at church pageant superstardom. I hope they were able to overlook the judgmental attitudes and discover the truth spoken by the pastor, Reverend Hopkins (one of the few sane people in the whole congregation): “He reminded everyone that when Jesus said, ‘Suffer the little children,’ he meant all the little children, including Herdmans.” May we heed those words as well, at Christmas and all year long.
Did you know that right here in our country 1.7 million children have a mother or father serving time in prison? Prison Fellowship’s Angel Tree is the largest national ministry to reach out to the children of inmates and their families with the love of Christ. By connecting incarcerated parents with their children through the delivery of gifts at Christmas, Angel Tree helps brighten the lives of hundreds of thousands of children. The ministry depends on volunteer and donor support, and this year the need his great, as more than 14,000 children on the Angel Tree list are in need of people to step in to donate the funds necessary to provide gifts for these kids. See the list below for a breakdown of the top 25 counties and states that are still in crucial need of donor help.
Think about it: If all of UrbanFaith’s reader’s were to make a small donation of $12.58 on the day after Thanksgiving as part of their “Black Friday” shopping spree, we could wipe out a large portion of the numbers below. Help us share the the true meaning of Christmas with these kids and their parents by making a donation.
For more information, visit AngelTree.org or call 1-800-206-9764.
KEEPING IT REAL: Tina Campbell and Erica Campbell attending last month's New York City premiere of their new WE tv reality series, "Mary Mary." (Photo: Newscom)
Since gospel duo Mary Mary burst on the music scene with their crossover hit “Shackles (Praise You)” in 2000, sisters Erica and Tina Campbell, who named themselves after Mary, the mother of Jesus, and Mary Magdalene, have defied what it means to be gospel artists. And now with the arrival of Mary Mary, their new reality television show, the duo have another vehicle to appeal to audiences outside of the traditional gospel realm. The show recently debuted on WE tv, the same network that brought us the runaway reality TV hit Braxton Family Values.
However, outside of being network mates and powerhouse vocalists who happen to be sisters, that is where the similarities end. There are no dead-beat husbands, sisters on the verge of alcoholism, or sisters vying for breakout status by creating catchy one-liners which all end in “dot-com.” Their show is decidedly tame in comparison — which may be both good and bad. In the first episode, we get to see what goes into being a three-time Grammy Award-winning gospel act. For Erica and Tina (who happen to be married to unrelated men with the last name Campbell — now that’s some reality TV for ya), this means balancing their career ambition while being mothers to almost eight children between them (as Tina is pregnant with her fourth child) and wives to men who also have thriving careers. Warryn Campbell, married to Erica, is Mary Mary’s producer. Teddy Campbell, Tina’s hubby, is the drummer for Jay Leno’s Tonight Show band.
The duo is invited to perform at Macy’s “Great Christmas Tree Lighting” concert (a signature event for true ATLiens) on Thanksgiving Day in Atlanta. Their high-strung manager, Mitchell Solarek, appropriately frames this invitation as a good decision professionally and bad decision personally. Nevertheless, Solarek urges them to miss spending Thanksgiving with their families in Los Angeles because the Atlanta concert would give them exposure to 100,000 people and potentially garner new fans. And Atlanta is already Mary Mary’s number one sales and media market, Solarek points out.
Erica is excited about the concert and convinces her husband to forego their traditional Thanksgiving plans with extended family and pack up their kids and head to the A on Thanksgiving. Tina, who seems to be the more outspoken sister, is not as sold on the idea because her oldest daughter, Laiah, will be performing at a glee concert during that time and her husband’s work schedule may not allow him to travel with her.
In spite of her misgivings, Tina decides to perform in Atlanta and tries to explain her decision to 8-year-old Laiah. Their conversation yields the most real and tender moment of the show, as Laiah weeps on her mother’s shoulder and chides her for missing out on important family events. In the commentary, Tina admits feeling “guilt for having this lifestyle that I have.” Still, she also admits to loving her lifestyle and wanting to find a successful balance between career and family. She takes red-eye flights to her gigs to be able to tuck her children in at night, saying, “I can function on no sleep but them kids can’t function on no love.” I found it interesting that the sisters referred to themselves as Mary Mary when it came to career and Erica and Tina when they discussed their families. They appear to understand the difference.
Another opportunity for drama presents itself in the introduction of Goo Goo, Erica and Tina’s younger sister and the group stylist. Solarek readily admits that Goo Goo would not be his first choice as stylist but is forced to accept her anyway. Styling gospel artists is a tricky endeavor, he explains, as female gospel artists are either criticized for dressing like a church lady or like Jezebel. And Solarek’s confidence in Goo Goo getting it right — not to mention her reliability — is severely tested. We also get to meet Honey, Erica and Tina’s mom, who was their first choir director at their childhood church, Evangelistic Church of God in Christ in California.
By the time they arrive in Atlanta for the concert, Tina is in funky mood and reveals her resentment at being alone in a hotel room on Thanksgiving, particularly since her family seems to be having fun without her and Erica’s family are in a hotel room down the hall. “This freaking sucks,” Tina declares. I won’t reveal what happens next, in case you still have the episode on DVR, but let’s just say the show is clearly interested in affirming the positive.
What I like about Mary Mary is that it’s a real-life depiction of successful black women, who are married to good men and trying to do right by their families. It also helps that, though we see their faith expressed, the show — like Mary Mary’s music — isn’t too churchy or preachy.
A potential problem for future episodes? I fear the show may not have enough mayhem and dysfunction to satisfy today’s reality show audiences, who have been fed a steady diet of the raucous dealings of Braxtons, Kardashians, and Real Housewives. In fact, I checked my social media sites during the airing of the premiere and was dismayed to see little to no chatter. But, then again, Mary Mary’s signature hit “Shackles (Praise You)” broke the traditional gospel mold, so maybe their show will catch fire by flipping the script on the typical reality TV formula.
New episodes will air in the show’s regular timeslot, Thursdays at 9 p.m. Eastern Time, beginning April 5. If you’ve watched the show already, what do you think?
It was a chilly December night in downtown Chicago, and about a dozen of us from a suburban Christian college were Christmas caroling. My best friend, Uriel, stood next to me as we sang. A few people stopped to listen.
… O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem, Come and behold him …
A black man edged closer as we sang. He seemed to eye me, the only African American in our group. His head nodded in rhythm with the melody.
… O come let us adore him, Christ the Lord!
“Say, brother,” he said, approaching me as the song ended, “would you please help my family? We ain’t got no money and my baby needs formula.”
He was probably in his 20s, but his tired and ragged appearance made him look much older. “Please, man. I need to get us some food.”
I glanced at the others in my group. We knew the safest response was to politely refuse. Yet we were Christians. Weren’t we supposed to help needy people?
“Would you please help me?” the plea came again. “Just a few dollars.”
I looked at Uriel.
“We can’t give you money,” we finally said, “but we can buy you what you need.” If the guy was telling us the truth, it was something we had to do.
“My name is Jerome,” he told us as we hiked toward a nearby convenience store. He lived in a city housing project with his wife and three kids. As we entered the store, I noticed that his eyes seemed to brighten. Maybe we’d brought a little hope into his life.
Soon we’d bought him baby formula, eggs, and milk. This seemed a fitting conclusion to our evening of caroling.
As we handed Jerome the groceries and bus fare, I noticed his eyes had darkened into an frightening stare. “You think you better than me, don’t you?” he said. “You all think you somethin’ ’cause you come out from the suburbs, buyin’ food for the po’ folks, but you ain’t no better than me.”
“No …” I struggled to find more words, but nothing came. I realized there was nothing I could say that would change his mind.
After a moment of awkward silence, Jerome grabbed his bag of groceries and walked away. Then he suddenly turned and said sharply, “Merry Christmas.” It was not a warm wish, but a condemning statement filled with broken pride.
The December air blew colder. No one said a word.
There wasn’t anything to say. Our holiday spirit had suddenly evaporated, and there was no way to bring it back.
We might have resented Jerome and felt justified. But was he wrong? We gave him a gift. He accepted it. Should there have been anything more?
That’s sort of how it was at the first Christmas. Jesus wasn’t born a helpless baby for applause. Years later, he didn’t hang on the cross for the praise and adulation — many of those he died for made fun of him. Still, he gave selflessly and unconditionally. So, why had we expected gratitude and warm fuzzies for our gift to Jerome?
Strangely enough, Jerome gave us something far better than another opportunity to feel good about ourselves. He made us look hard at our motives and gave us a sobering lesson on the real reason for giving.
We were expecting a pat on the back. Jerome reminded us of what the true reward of Christmas is all about.
