There are three main qualifications I have as an amateur Road to Bethlehem actor: I am tall, I am prepared to wear a funny hat in public and I have committed to making myself available to do it each year for a week in December over the past 10 years.
In that time, I have played the roles of each of the wise men and have taken a couple of turns as the high priest, repeating my few lines as many as 30 times each evening as the groups come and go from the scenes in which I am involved.
Between groups and between scenes, there are quick chats with fellow cast members, many of whom I might not have seen in the past 12 months; fine-tuning of the scene with production managers; drinks and snacks; updates on the crowd numbers for the night—and how many more groups to go. Some early summer evenings, we are looking for a cooling breeze as we sweat in our costumes; others we are sheltering from a passing shower, coping with the wind in our sets and microphones, or even shivering with cold as the sun sets.
But there is rarely time for much distraction. When the groups are moving through smoothly, another 150 to 200 people arrive at the scene every seven minutes, each group having its unique experience of the story. When we have settled into our routine—the group of actors in a scene might be different each night—I have often taken the
opportunity to glance out over the crowd, occasionally recognising someone I know but most often simply taking in the diversity and good spirits of the people with their families and friends who are making this part of their Christmas experience. Occasionally an overexcited youngster will answer back to the actors or provide commentary on the story, but generally the crowds are generous in their appreciation of our amateur acting—many of my fellow actors are very good at what they do, particularly after the first few run throughs—and of the obvious work that has gone into building sets, adding lighting and other production features, and all the other elements that make this experience special.
But these long nights and the many shorts breaks between my few lines with each group have also given me plenty of time to reflect on the larger story of the birth of Jesus, why it matters and why so many people—even just in the context of this program—would spend time sharing it again year by year.
In our telling of the story, the characters of the wise men and that of the high priest are minor characters and certainly serve as colourful backdrops to the larger action. But these strange exotic visitors “from the East” suggest that something larger is afoot, that this is not just another baby, but One who was born to be a king, of sorts. And it is the high priest, in our telling of the story, who delivers the answer from the Hebrew prophets as to where the Baby would be born—as we have simplified it: “But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah, for out of you will come a ruler who will be the saviour of my people, Israel” (see Micah 5:2). It is a signpost on the Road to Bethlehem, directing the visitors’ ongoing journey, but it is also a pointer to the larger truth that will be delivered by the angels to the comically startled shepherds in just a couple of scenes’ time.
As I look over each successive group as they crowd together in front of our small stage, I am awed and gratified by the message that the angel gave to those unlikely shepherds: “‘Don’t be afraid!’ he said. ‘I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people’” (Luke 2:10, NLT). As unlikely as the shepherds were as recipients of this first message, “all people” also includes the few hundred of us together in that moment, on a summer evening in suburban Melbourne more than 2000 years later retelling the story in a language that had not been invented yet.
Often when the last group of the night has passed our scene, I will head back to the costume room, take off my funny hat and put on some warmer clothes. But before heading back to my car, I will slip into the back of the manger scene and watch the last couple of groups of the night arriving at the culmination of their journey, where they finally meet the baby Jesus.
For all the hiccups there might have been in the program that night, the weariness of another night of the program, perhaps with yet a couple more nights to go, the busyness of all the other things there are to do as we near the end of the year, I pause to remember this simple story and the life-changing, world-transforming assertion: “The Saviour—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David!” (Luke 2:11, NLT).
For more information, to book tickets or to find the Road to Bethlehem program closest to you, visit roadtobethlehem.org.
