The birth of Jesus is one of the best known stories in the western world. The Virgin Mary becomes pregnant by the Holy Spirit; she gives birth to a son, wraps him in swaddling clothes and lays him in a manger. It happens in a stable, because there was no room for them at the inn. So the other members of the cast — Joseph, shepherds, angels and wise men — look on with the animals, as Christ is born in Bethlehem.

This story captured my imagination from an early age. I remember acting in pageants, wearing bathrobes and sandals for costumes, holding paper scripts and improvised props. I learned to sing carols, such as Silent Night, with the lyric “…’round yon virgin, mother and child,” long before I knew what a virgin was.

Since then, you may be relieved to hear, I’ve figured out that “virgin” was not in fact Mary’s title. And I’ve learned that there are two different versions of Jesus’s birth. There’s one in the Gospel of Matthew, which has no shepherds or angels, and there is a second version in the Gospel of Luke, which has no wise men (or magi). But I still keep the stories combined in my imagination, probably because they are almost always depicted together in every nativity scene, and all of the Christmas pageants I’ve seen.

I imagine many of us have warm memories of the story. But beyond this famous tableau, what does this story really mean? Does the story of Jesus’s birth impact us beyond Christmas? Does it affect our imaginations? Stories are ordinarily told to convey something we believe to be true. They illustrate values, culture and, especially in the case of sacred stories, they help us to say and describe things that are hard to otherwise understand.

So, what about the story of Jesus’s birth?

I love a good pageant and manger scene. And I love all the other stuff that goes along with Christmas — carols, concerts, gift giving and decorating. But what do all of the traditions do for the story? Do they actually keep it at arm’s length, far away, or up on a pedestal — not part of our actual life or beliefs? What if we really took the story seriously? What if we let it affect our understanding, our deeply held beliefs, about where God shows up in the world?

This story is about an unmarried, Jewish, teenage mother, giving birth to her baby away from home. The shepherds are poor, working class, probably illiterate, and specifically invited, by the Angel of the Lord, to witness the incarnation of God. The magi (AKA, wise men, AKA three kings) fall somewhere between scientists, fortune tellers or perhaps interfaith leaders. But however you understand them, they are decidedly foreign, and not Jewish. Not only do the magi bring gifts to honor Jesus, they are the ones who warn Mary and Joseph about the wrath of a jealous king, causing them to become refugee asylum seekers, fleeing to Egypt.

Not a single character in this play would call themselves “Christian.”

Howard Thurman was a 20th century African American philosopher, theologian and a mentor of Martin Luther King, Jr. His Christmas Prayer captures one way we might internalize this story more deeply:

When the song of the angels is stilled;
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
The work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among [families],
To make music in the heart.

This Christmas season, may your carols to be harmonious, and may your the feasting both satisfy and delight. May the giving and receiving be heartfelt and generous. And after the wrapping paper and leftovers are all put away, may we also remember that Christmas is only just beginning. When we think it’s all over, that’s when the work of Christmas begins. 

Peace, joy and courage be with you all. 

Rev. Mark Winters is pastor of the Federated Church of Martha’s Vineyard in Edgartown.