The Church of the Unexpected Cow
The Church of the Unexpected Cow
How a child's invitation to a Christmas Eve play at church leads to a surprise guest at the manger
We had an unexpected cow at church on Christmas Eve this year. This is the story.
A pre-teen boy fidgeted with his costume, peeking out from behind the heavy velvet curtains to glimpse the quickly filling sanctuary. It was Christmas Eve and in just moments he would step on stage and into the spotlight as the angel Gabriel, sent by God to proclaim the coming birth of the Messiah to Mary and Joseph. He felt his heart pounding with nervous excitement. He simultaneously loved this first acting role and shuddered at the thought he would forget his glorious message and line, “unto you is born this day, in the City of David, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord!”
The night before, Gabriel had eagerly invited his new neighbor and friend at the family’s apartment complex to come watch him in the next morning’s Christmas Eve service at his church. Gabriel and his family had just relocated to the complex and John was one of the boys at the apartments that he liked hanging out with. Gabriel was elated when John and his family said “yes.”
John arrived the next morning and sat through the first production and his first hearing of the biblical Christmas story. Gabriel remembered his lines and his cues, and even spotted his friend and shot him a smiling nod during the curtain call. John nodded back, eyes bright with wonder and support for his friend.
After the first production ended, Gabriel found John and they dabbed fists in subdued and cool jubilation. Gabriel found my wife Hayley, the play’s producer, to introduce his friend and ask if John could stay for the cast Christmas party (meant to keep the kids busy and entertained before the afternoon service.) Hayley said, “Absolutely, we have plenty of snacks and food to share.” John lingered around Hayley with a brash confidence that came with a declaration:
“I could do this.”
"You think so? Would you like to be in the next play we do?" Hayley asked in reply.
"Oh yeah. Absolutely," John answered cooly. "What costume do you have for me?"
Hayley was taken aback for a second. She thought John was talking about the next production she might put on (if she survived this one,) not the next performance of this play that so many had invested in for our church’s Christmas Eve services. And our church is no neighborhood church; it’s one of the largest churches in our city and arguably the most historical. Hayley quickly got up to John’s speed and said, “Well, let’s take a look. Here’s a cow costume; we don’t have a cow. Do you think you could pull this off?”
John surveyed the fuzzy black and white onesie complete with pink plastic udder. "Totally. I got this.” With more the swiftness and focus of a panther than a bovine, John pounced on Gabriel across the room and they celebrated the news of his insertion into the cast.
When my wife informed my daughter, who was directing the play, she quickly co-signed and wrote John the Cow into one of the manger scenes. And both of them felt their hearts warmed at this unexpected addition, like the in-breaking of holy mystery and childlike joy into a well-ordered liturgy.
After the production ended, a cow found an angel and gave him a huge bear hug, laughing joyously. "Thank you again SO much for everything tonight! This is the best Christmas Eve ever!"
I don’t know if Gabriel understood that inviting John and making room for him, even at the last minute, was exactly the kind of welcoming, barrier-breaking love Jesus modeled. The first time John heard the Christmas story, he was an outsider looking in. But the second time, he was part of the holy story itself, sitting at the very feet of Jesus at the manger.
Wherever there are barriers keeping anyone from experiencing the vibrant, life-changing love of Jesus, God calls us to break them down. Wherever there are walls separating insider from outsider, Christ calls us to throw open the doors. Whoever feels far off is to be welcomed in and brought near.
We must make room for them all at the feet of Jesus - for there is room in His expansive heart for every single one. If the purpose is a great production, then the script must be great, the sets must be great, the costumes must be great, the music must be great.
But not one of those aspects were the purpose.
The purpose was to tell the Christmas story, give kids an opportunity to do something they’ve never done, and for families and their friends to make memories while remembering (or hearing for the first time) the reason for the season. For those of us called to vocational ministry as pastors or gifted key volunteers in our churches, we may unwittingly put up fences to keep all but the qualified, talented, and rehearsed into our services if what happens in a Christmas pageant or a weekly worship service must be professional productions. But only by flinging wide the gates of grace-filled invitation, radical hospitality, and barrier-breaking love do we become The Church of the Unexpected Cow. Only then do we live out Christ’s original, world-changing, revolutionary, and less-than-professional welcome that first Christmas night.
Only then do we truly celebrate Emmanuel - God with us in our mess, imperfection, and humanity. May this new year bring new and fresh habits of invitation, hospitality, and cattle wrangling!