Little lamb drowns out shepherd boy; With live nativities come manger mishaps, directors say
Sheep wrangling might not appear in Luke’s description of Bethlehem, but for an actor playing a Roman centurion in a live nativity, tackling a particularly unruly ram proved even tougher than his tax-collecting duties.
Luckily, the actor bridled the sheep in time for the Kernersville Seventh-day Adventist Church’s Walk Through Bethlehem live nativity production, attended by nearly 2,000 locals last year in North Carolina.
Ranging from the humble to the elaborate, live nativities are now holiday staples in many North American communities. The productions draw thousands of viewers, recruit hundreds of costumed church members and townsfolk and often include live animals, detailed props and Bethlehem backdrops. But striving for authenticity often multiplies the risk of manger mishaps.
“One year the donkey in our stable scene started eating Joseph’s headpiece,” remembers Wilma Bing, an associate pastor at the Auburn Academy Adventist Church in Washington, and director of its “Journey to Bethlehem” live nativity. Later, she says, the sheep “started baa-ing so loudly you couldn’t even hear the actors.”
Back in Kernersville, the donkey playing the part of Mary’s mount flatly refused to participate last year. “We had to use a horse at the last minute,” says nativity director Reid Christman. “The next night we tried a different donkey. He was a little more cooperative.”
Special handling permits and cramped, downtown locations prevent some churches from including live animals in their productions. “We tried live sheep one year, but people complained because we’re in the middle of the city and we really don’t have room,” says Sarah Smith, 12-year director of the Drive-thru Live Nativity at the Adventist church in Santa Rosa, California.
Instead of live animals, Smith now uses polyester-stuffed upholstered lookalikes. “People think ‘Ajax,’ the donkey, is live,” she says.
But even minus stubborn donkeys and rowdy sheep, nativities are not without the occasional snag. No-show actors make for last-second costume switches, and still-life nativities—which require actors to hold a pose for up to a half hour while viewers file or drive by—come with another set of challenges, most often wandering eyes or runny noses.
At the Fortuna Adventist Church in California, one girl playing an angel in the shepherd scene sneezed mid-performance and stumbled. “She was fine,” says Colleen Ogle, who directs the church’s drive-thru live nativity, “but this very concerned little boy pointed out the fallen angel and kept telling his mom, ‘Mommy, the angel statue tipped over!’”
In Auburn, weather kept the angels Earth-bound one year, Bing remembers. “You can’t stick your angels up on scaffolding during a lighting storm!”
For directors willing to risk the shenanigans that frequently accompany the use of live animals, local farms or zoos are the place to rent everything from chickens to the more exotic—and expensive—camels.
Some zoos, such as the Catoctin Wildlife Preserve and Zoo in Thurmont, Maryland, get so many requests from live nativity directors during the Christmas season that they send handlers to accompany their animals throughout the performance, says Frank Araujo, who directed a live nativity in Takoma Park, Maryland, two years ago.
“The handlers showed up dressed in costumes, and the zoo keeper played lead camel driver,” he says. “They even had costumes for the camels.” Araujo says the handlers’ kept the camels calm and cooperative. The only snag? The actors playing the Three Wisemen weren’t prepared for how abruptly camels stand up after being mounted. “They almost fell off,” he remembers.
Araujo and his crew spent $30,000 of the $130,000 they raised for the production on the three camels and a menagerie of other animals for the 10 nights of production. Bing rented two camels from a Spokane, Washington reindeer farm. “When we got the contract, it said, ‘For two reindeer,’” she says. “Luckily the camels showed up!”
Christman says he’d love to include camels in Kernersville’s production, but at $1,000 a night from the zoo in Nashville, Tennessee, it’s beyond the church’s budget. “I keep trying to convince somebody around here to go into the camel farming business!”
Because live nativities are typically free, churches depend on fundraising and donations to cover costs. Creativity helps, too, says Smith, who funds the Santa Rosa production with her husband. Her backdrops are made of recycled garage doors and her wisemen are clad in costumes fashioned from an old pair of gold brocade drapes.
Despite budget challenges and the occasional hiccup—or sneeze—surrounding live nativities, directors say they’re ideal ways of connecting with the community and involving locals in church activities. Most churches pass out free literature after each production and welcome anyone who wants to participate as a volunteer or actor.
“Our actor playing Mary is engaged to a member of the church,” says Donovan Davis, senior pastor at the Kernersville Adventist Church. “After a few nights, she started talking about ‘our church’ instead of ‘his church.’”
Bing says participating in Auburn’s live nativity is a non-threatening way for locals to find out about the Adventist Church. “My shepherds sit around the fire for four nights together. They naturally bond. We’ve had small groups start up at church because of this,” she says, “It gives non-church members a chance to belong even before they decide to believe,” she says.
—Ansel Oliver contributed to this story