A camel, surrounded by a blue sky. Photo: By Kristian Egelund on Unsplash.
Child’s play: Roger Babington Hill on the school nativity
‘The success of the production depends on all members of the team.’
Next week my soon-to-be five-year-old grandson, now in infant school, will take part in his first nativity play. I have been wondering about some parallels between what he might learn from it and how these lessons for him might apply equally to our lives as adult Quakers.
There are three areas to look at: tradition, co-operation, and words.
For most of us living in Britain, the Christian church and its teaching form a major part of our cultural heritage. Whether we choose later to be active in this heritage is another question, a question which exercises many of us following the liberal Quaker way. But we cannot deny that our language, ethics, architecture, music and the arts are largely associated with, and enriched by, this Christian heritage. The passage of our year is shaped by the major Christian festivals. Like it or not, the Quaker tradition is rooted in Christianity.
Nativity plays are an excellent way to introduce children to this heritage. Through them they learn about its key people, something of its essential message, and its basic stories. They are introduced to the unfathomable mysteries of the healing miracles and the Resurrection. These may be easier for a child to accept before their critical left brain becomes dominant. For the young, metaphors may more easily point to the truth than for us hardened adults.
One of the key elements in any theatrical production is the need to work together to form a whole. Individuals must try to set aside their egos to work as a community.
The success of the production depends on all members of the team – set decorators and producers, actors and publicists, musicians and prompters – working together. Learning to do this is a challenge for a five-year-old. It is also a challenge for those of us in a Quaker Meeting. We need to learn to not over-burden those whose natural talent is to be active – the Marthas in our community. We need to learn to bring forward the reticent and give them tasks within their capability. We need to learn that ministry given with a warm heart is valued no matter how modest its form. The smile of the door-keeper can be as valuable as the profound spoken ministry of a weighty elder.
One of the key skills an actor has to learn is to articulate their words and to deliver them clearly to an audience. For the actor the words are usually written by an author. The child has to learn their lines and deliver them while overcoming a probable shyness. The person giving ministry in a Meeting, too, often has to overcome a shyness. How often do we hear ‘Speak up please’? But in ministry the words are not given in a script, they are formulated in the space of the speaker’s own heart. Their value lies in their truthfulness matching the mood and need of the Meeting.
So what role will my little grandson be playing? Not the Infant Jesus. Not a wise man or a shepherd. But a camel, a humble, speechless camel. Great things are built on small beginnings.
