CONTEMPLATING THE CHRISTMAS CRECHE LINEUP

My Christmas creche varies in its location from year to year. I suppose that, down through the years, nearly every flat-topped surface in my home, except the kitchen cabinet and stove tops, has been its site.

I suppose, too, that the representative human and animal characters have never had the exact same spots around the manger. Another variance occurs in that each year I tend to zero in on the lives, both real and imagined, of the persons and animals assembled in the traditional stable.

I've even gone outside the conventional scene and imagined the lives of those who owned the stable or cave - how the event that occurred there on that Holy night affected them afterwards. There must have been a stable boy who fed and tended the animals that evening. There had to be a carpenter who constructed a feeding trough or manger. Someone provided the gifts the Wise Men brought. Did the gatherers of the frankincense and myrrh later know where it went? Did they care? The stable was cleaned, wasn't it? At least every few days? Maybe the one who cleaned it on Christmas Eve lived long enough to remember that chore and took comfort in the remembering. Oh, the mind can imagine so many different ramifications of that night.

This holiday season, my thoughts are circling around St. Francis of Assisi who wasn't born until 1182 years after the event and who, according to legend, constructed the first creche to commemorate the Blessed Event.

E. M. Almedingen who wrote of St. Francis' life says that "We, thrust into the breathless and all too often frightening drift of our day, need to be reminded that calm can be found even in the heart of the storm." Almedingen said this in 1967. I wonder how he would put it today? "Frightening drift of our day" does not seem strong enough now. Perhaps, "terrifying swift current of our times," or "horrifying hours of cringing fear,day after day?"

Francis found calm in his much troubled and restless early life when he eventually stumbled into a small, virtually ruined chapel in San Damiano in the Umbria countryside of Italy. It was an unmarked place in a tangle of trees, shrubs and wild flowers. But there was still a strangely beautiful crucifix hanging over the neglected altar. It is said he spent hours before that crucifix where he felt gentleness and serenity and finally asked the Lord to show him the way.

This reminds me of David who prayed to God for the same thing and implored God to "make it plain."

We are told that Francis heard the answer, "Restore My house." How and in what manner Francis "heard" this answer we don't know. Anyway, he took it literally and set about trying to restore the little chapel, even doing some things considered dishonest to get the funds. Because of this the chapel was not restored.

Perhaps the larger meaning of the order Francis heard was to restore the church to its mission, an answer so suitable for anyone who, today, might ask the same question.

With each piece of the creche I put in place, I pause and repeat the short and breathless sentences of one of Francis' last sermons: "Love God . . . Remember that Jesus redeemed you . . . Learn His peace and let it possess your hearts . . . Never covet . . . Turn away from sin . . . Praise God for the world He has made."

I swirl along with everyone else in the milieu of our current horrible events, but, putting the last piece of the creche into place, I can still praise God for the world He has made.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!