a few years ago, my mother-in-law gave the kids a hand-sewn manger scene set, complete with plush, non-breakable characters that can be arranged, stacked, pelted at each other, et cetera. the set has been a hit for various reasons (see above), and because our den is home to a constantly evolving sea of miscellaneous toy pieces that defies organization, i was not surprised at all yesterday to see this:

it looks like the monkey crashed the party, so to speak.

some young clergy women friends of mine turned me on to the sermons of debbie blue a while back, and i recently re-read her hilarious and insightful musings about the placement of the wise men in manger scenes. in betty’s manger scene collection she writes,

“i’ve been thinking maybe someone should start a small group of guerilla activists whose task it would be to plant shocking figures in manger scenes…. suburban housewives will shriek when they find batman figures on the roof of the manger on their mantle. churches will be horrified to find barbies and plastic dinosaurs on their altars. but people will pay attention. they will look twice. they may even stop their car. they may even get out when they see a garden troll or a pink flamingo or a big plastic homer simpson leaning over the baby jesus on the cathedral lawn.

photo from ncs909x

i actually wonder if i’m not the first to come up with that idea. it might have been some sort of guerilla group that first placed the wise men in manger scenes…. these guys probably didn’t come from nice clean places, maybe not even good families, probably more like smoky little rooms in the back of tattoo parlors… that’s a bold way to tell a story, these foreigners, in every sense of the word, these outsiders (way outsiders) were the first people in matthew’s story to encounter the jewish messiah…. it’s like having shirley maclaine at our manger scene. it’s that out there. shirley maclaine.”

i’m so proud of my little guerilla activist! i’m thinking about following his lead and inserting a little shock value into all of the manger scenes i encounter from here on out. you better watch out… you never know who will turn up on your mantle. as previously stated, i have access to a constantly evolving sea of miscellaneous toy pieces.

[source for this post is located on the bibliography page on the sidebar to your right.]

there are some situations that offer (me) very little in the way of the spiritual. for example, last night, in a freak bathing incident, the monkey tee teed in the bird’s face. it was ugly, folks.

sometimes, in the midst of chaos, there is just chaos. oh, and a really clean bird. today he’s practically radiant!

as i have confessed in an earlier post, i am not always very good at explaining elements of my faith to my children.

perhaps this is because kids are such concrete thinkers and i, on the other hand, am not. or maybe this is because i am keenly aware that concepts such as communion, resurrection, and the trinity are truly bizarre. if i tell my kids now that god had a baby named jesus, for example, will they ever find pause later to consider just how outlandish this story is? if stories like this become part of the familiar fabric of their childhoods, will they ever be able to recognize the unpredictable and mysterious nature of god’s movement in the world (and humanity’s interpretations thereof)?

contemporary theologian and renowned children’s book author, rabbi sandy sasso, set me straight on this topic a few years ago when i heard her interview on the public radio program, keeping the faith. sasso asserts that children are innately spiritual, and that, unlike many adults, they have not developed a fear of mystery or unanswered questions. furthermore, sasso emphasizes that it is important to teach our children the sacred stories from our own backgrounds, even if we have negative associations with these stories, even if we see these stories differently now, even if they no longer inform our notions of truth.

“stories,” says sasso, “are the vocabulary of theology for children.” they, along with the communities that tell them, are the tools children need to grapple with the mystery themselves.

these are the thoughts that went through my mind the other day when the monkey became deeply involved in creating a “major” out of a laundry basket. you know, a “major,” as in “away in the ‘major’ no crib for a bed…”

the fun continued as a stuffed animal became the stand-in for the baby jesus.

and finally, when the kids took turns dive-bombing into the “major,” i reminded myself that they were just getting the feel for some very necessary tools. they were careening into a much-needed theological vocabulary. maybe they even recognized how bizarre the whole birth story is. after all, making a crib out of a laundry basket is about as strange as making a crib out of a feeding trough.

 *********

a what sorts of insights are emerging from your own versions of chaos? play along if you’d like. check out what erica, maryann, jaime, and kathi are finding in the midst of chaos. if i’ve forgotten to mention you here, please let me know and i’ll make the necessary revisions.

even the almost-two-year-old bird seems to value slowing down. here he is taking it upon himself to warn drivers of his recreational pursuits.

who can say that immersion in the care of children is not a spiritual exercise? they are like little prophets who know the secret pathways to the centers of our souls. there they set up shop and direct our waiting with the proper signs.

*     *    *

what sorts of insights are emerging from your own versions of chaos? play along if you’d like. check out what erica, maryann, jaime, and kathi are finding in the midst of chaos. if i’ve forgotten to mention you here, please let me know and i’ll make the necessary revisions.

as i have written in a previous post, i am determined to notice the deeply spiritual nature of the holidays, even in the midst of the chaos of family life with young children. as my old vanderbilt divinity school professor, bonnie j. miller-mclemore, writes:

“limiting spirituality to the ‘inner’ life and restricting theology to the life of the mind ends up excluding a huge portion of life from both faith and theology” (in the midst of chaos, 7).

is there anything in this world that trumps parenthood in its simultaneous associations with the supremely holy and the utterly mundane?

speaking of holy (or shall i say holey?), in the midst of chaos, there is growth.

what sorts of insights are emerging from your own versions of chaos? play along if you’d like. in the midst of erica‘s chaos, there is awe, and in the midst of maryann‘s chaos, there is wonder.

i invite you to join me on my quest to find glimpses of truth and goodness amidst the parenting pandimonium of the holiday season. share a word or phrase or image on your blog and link to this post. i’ll link back to you each time i share my own images, words, phrases, etc.

you can even grab this button for your blog if you want:

it is located in the sidebar to your right.