Deuteronomy 6:4-9
Every December, my hometown Spartanburg throws an event called A Dickens of a Christmas. Carolers in Victorian garb stroll amongst the crowd. Horse carriage rides go up and down Main Street. The big event, of course (and the most un-Dickensian), is the lighting of the big Christmas tree downtown.
The church that I attended growing up was located just off Main Street and would put on a live nativity during Dickens. Besides a barnyard's worth of animals, the roles in the nativity were mainly played by members of our middle school choir. I'm not totally sure how that came about. I can't imagine too many scenarios in which a church is figuring out who should represent them and everyone agrees it should be 6th, 7th, and 8th graders. Good on whoever made that decision though.
I loved doing the live nativity. It was not a very demanding gig. There was a recording that provided narration and music, so there were no lines to memorize or songs to sing. All we had to do was to go out on our cue, bow before the baby Jesus (which wasn't a real baby), and then head back inside for free Krispy Kreme doughnuts and hot chocolate until it was time to go back out again.
I was typically a shepherd and that was really the role you wanted. Mary and Joseph were the stars and had to be out in the cold for the entire presentation. The wise men came out individually with a literal spotlight on them as "We Three Kings" played. They also had to carry a gift so between the possibility of dropping that or tripping while the spotlight was on you, there was a lot of potential for embarrassment. But shepherds got to roll as a crew and, if you were lucky, the one grown up shepherd might let you lead the sheep on a leash. I don't think this ever happened but it felt like a possibility.
I was remembering all of this the other day and it struck me how cool it was that I got that kind of opportunity. Even though I was mainly there because my friends were doing it and we got free doughnuts, our church had found a way to immerse the youth into the nativity story. As silly as it sounds, participating in that was a part of my religious education. It was another way in which I was taught the Bible. This particularly fun and creative way made the story come alive (Note: There are many, many Bible stories for which re-enactment would be the worst of ideas).
In Deuteronomy 6:4-5, Moses issues the Great Commandment (also known as the Shema) to the people: "Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might." Then Moses talks about all the ways in which the people can keep the command in their heart. He encourages them to do everything from binding it on their hands to writing the commandment on their doorposts. Yet the first thing he mentions is to recite the commands to children and to talk about them at all times.
What is true for the Great Commandment is true for stories about Jesus and our faith, the values that we want to embody, etc. One of the most potent ways in which we can keep those in our hearts is by sharing them with others (Moses says children and that's pertinent to me, but it may not be to you. I think I'm well within the tradition of scriptural interpretation to extend that beyond offspring). This is what the adults in our church were doing for us.
The more ways in which we can talk about this story, the more it becomes our story. And when we can find different and creative ways to share that story—especially ways which light up whatever interests and passions that are in each of us—it will stay with us all the more.
So if you get the chance to tell the story about Jesus, tell it whatever way you can: with painting, drama, music, cooking, spoken word poems, short films, whatever. You could even do a live nativity with a bunch of middle schoolers. Not only will it keep that story alive in your own heart, you'd be surprised how something like that sticks with the ones with whom you share.