The Garbage Man of Bethlehem
A few days ago, I came across a post by a highschool classmate. She shared the story about the time her son, who has autism, was offered the choice of different roles in her church Christmas pageant. One by one, he turned each of the characters down. Being a wiseman or a shepherd did not interest him. He wanted eagerly to participate in the annual event, but he was not comfortable portraying what we might consider to be a traditional member of the nativity scene.
As I was reading her story, I tried to imagine what our church would have done in this scenario. Having just helped our pageant director orchestrate our Christmas parade of angels, magi, Jesus and His parents, I couldn’t help but wonder how we would have responded to this young man’s desire to be part of the magic and the reinactment of history.
My friend’s church responded to this child’s wish to participate with his peers in the most unexpected and creative display of inclusion I have seen. Dressed as the Garbage Man of Bethlehem, he joined the angels, the magi and the sheep of the fields in paying homage to Emmanuel, the Son of God. His connection to the town’s refuse workers who visit his neighborhood each week, and who offer him enthusiastic high-fives and waves from their large, loud truck during collection day, had instilled in him a deep sense of joy. Perhaps this was a joy he wanted to demonstrate and share.
This short, simple and powerful post grabbed my attention. To me, it was an outstanding example of inclusion and one I know Jesus would embrace fiercely. The more I thought about it, I became convinced that the Garbage Man of Bethlehem was somehow accidentally left out of Matthew and Luke’s accounts of Jesus’ birth.
This Christmas, I am reminded that faith traditions are valuable because they help us express, explore and reaffirm what we believe, and it is important to remember that these experiences should be accessible to all, and not some. Faith traditions are part of what connect us to other people, what bring us comfort and hope, and for many of us it is a deep part of our identity. Everyone deserves access to that.
For the rest of my life, I imagine I will be looking for the Garbage Man of Bethlehem - the young man who followed the star and who brought joy and a sense of wonder with him. The young man who shared it in his own way. May we all be creative in how we include others in this life. Because it matters.
