A sermon for Christmas Eve and the conclusion to the “Wonder Women of Advent” series.
Luke 1, 2
When I was in seminary I served as a youth pastor at a little church in Ohio that had a tradition of doing a live outdoor nativity scene during the Christmas season. The deal was that the kids would volunteer for half hour shifts sitting out in a makeshift barn we assembled out of old boards while people from the area drove up to witness the scene.
We had the whole crew—Mary, Joseph, shepherds, wise men, and even live animals like sheep and donkeys. We had beautiful Christmas music playing over a loudspeaker with a narration of the story. People would simply drive up to the church to look at the scene for a while.
It was usually cold and, being Ohio in December, a misty and miserable rain. The youth piled on the layers under their costumes which meant that everyone in the scene looked like they could have walked a few more miles and shed a few pounds on their journey as they waddled up to the manger. And while everyone else was bundled up, baby Jesus (a doll) was only wrapped in a thin cloth—silent night, freezing night!