The boy who cried angel.

Where shall we start our Christmas story?

2005 years ago, with the star of the show twinkling brightly.

And with three Wise Men,

Kings of Orient, foreign scholars,

who see it from afar.

Star centre.

3 wise men at right.

Meanwhile, not too far away

are shepherds minding sleepy sheep.

When suddenly an eerie sound they hear

And lo! from on high appear angels, singing.

The shepherds get an awful fright

but when they listen they can hear

the angels promising peace on earth

and something about a baby’s birth in Bethlehem.

No ordinary baby this, but Christ the King

so off they go.

It was no ordinary night.

Shepherds left.

Angel in gallery (or podium).

Meanwhile, from another direction

come Mary, Joseph and the donkey, weary.

Eventually they get to Bethlehem

but they’re too late to find a bed

so instead they stay in a stable

(which is a kind of barn

complete with animals and funny smells).

Mary & Joseph down main aisle to centre.

Then Mary has her baby but

we won’t dwell on that because

now the visitors have arrived,

the shepherds and the foreign scholars.

They’re tired and perplexed,

these diverse strangers

who meet each-other round the manger

(that’s a kind of feedbox) in which

the baby Jesus lies.

And yet they worship God.

Meanwhile, as the new dawn gilds the skies

the angels are still lurking, silent

and the star still twinkles bright.

Shepherds & wise men to centre.

We’re back where we started, with the star of the show. Is that the end of the story?

Well, there’s more to the story than that, of course. Shall I tell you another story?

Yes please.

OK. So a couple of years after that, there was a shepherd boy watching the sheep at night. Watching sheep isn’t a lot of fun. They don’t do much, especially by night. So it’s not surprising that the boy got bored. He counted the sheep a few times. But he was still bored. He thought: if only the angel would come back and save him from boredom. And he thought: why not?

So he left the sheep and ran into the village.

Angel! He cried. I saw an angel. The angel has come back to the field, and he has a message in song for us.

So the villagers followed the shepherd boy to the field, but when they got there, all they found were hills and sheep. No angel. Nothing.

Ha ha, said the shepherd boy.

The villagers grumbled and left.

The shepherd boy stayed in the fields.

A few months later he was still bored. He thought: if only the three wise men would come and save him from boredom. And he thought: why not?

So he left the sheep and ran to the village.

The three wise men are back! He cried. And they’re setting up in the next village and they’re trading new lamps for old.

Some of the villagers thought: New lamps for old? Why not? So they got their old lamps and followed the shepherd boy to the neighbouring village. But when they got to the marketplace, all they found were the usual tradespeople. None of them were very wise. And none of them were trading new lamps for old.

Ha ha, said the shepherd boy.

The villagers grumbled and left.

The shepherd boy went back to the fields.

A few months later, he was still bored. He thought: if only the Christchild would come and save him from boredom. And he thought: why not?

So he left the sheep and ran to the village.

The Christchild has come back! He cried. And Mary and Joseph. They’re on their way to the inn.

A few of the villagers followed the shepherd boy to the inn, but when they got there, all they found was an empty stable. No Mary, no Joseph, no Christchild. Not even an ox.

Better check the inn, said the shepherd boy.

No guests here tonight, said the innkeeper.

The villagers grumbled and left.

The shepherd boy went back to the field. He was still bored. Some times he fought wolves with his bare hands, but he didn’t tell anyone.

The shepherd boy grew older and he left the fields. He went to the city looking for work.

When he got there, the first thing he saw was a crowd. Messiah! they cried. We saw the Messiah. So the shepherd boy followed the crowd. But when he got there, all he found was a man on a donkey.

Some of the crowd grumbled and left.

The next day there was another crowd. King of the Jews! they cried. We saw the King of the Jews.

So the shepherd boy followed the crowd. But when he got there, all he found was a man dying on a cross. Most of the crowd grumbled and left.

A few days later he met a group of women. Angel! they cried. We saw an angel. The shepherd boy just stared. He grumbled, but followed anyway.

But when he got there, all he found was an empty tomb. No angel. No body.

It was a miracle.

Wait a moment. What’s a tomb?

It’s like a grave, where you put people when they have died. But this one was a cave, and it had a really big rock for a door.

OK, so what’s so miraculous about an empty grave?

Well, the man on the cross died. They put him in the grave. And then they rolled the really big rock across the entrance so no-one could get in. Or out. And three days later, the grave was empty.

Ah.

Actually, the grave wasn’t completely empty. The body had been wrapped in sheets, and the sheets were still there.

But no body?

No body.

Ah. But that’s more of a mystery than a miracle.

Here’s the miracle: when they found the body, it was a live body. The man died, stayed dead fro three days and then came back to life. And then went straight up to heaven.

And ever since, there have been people celebrating his life and his death and his teaching.

Like at Christmas and Easter.

Yep.

OK. So part of today’s story is traditional, from the bible. And part of it is made up.

Yep. The bit about the boy who cried angel is made up.

So how are we supposed to know which stories to believe?

I’ve been wondering the same thing.

And?

Well. Stories are a way of understanding things. So you need good stories – the bible is full of good stories. And you need wise people to help you understand them – the church is full of wise people.

OK, but that doesn’t really answer my question.

I know. Find yourself a wise person and ask them.

Right. So what was my question?

How do we know which stories to believe?

Right. So is that the end of the story?

Yep. But you can take it home and play with it if you like.

OK.

Yep.

Right. I’m going now.

Yep. Me too.

Right.

Yep.