Shepherding a Live Tableau is Easier on Solid Ground

It had been a long time since I volunteered to take part in a living Nativity tableau--not since the days when the Santa Claus Lane Parade in Hollywood included a church float with Mary, Joseph, the baby Jesus and the usual supporting cast.

Back then--perhaps 25 years ago--as the float went by, Johnny Grant, Bill Welsh or whoever would announce to the crowd, “And now here’s the real meaning of Christmas.”

At that moment, shepherds, wise men and others positioned around the float’s rickety manger were simply hoping that the flatbed truck wouldn’t sway or stop too suddenly and send the robed characters sliding off the straw onto the hard pavement of Hollywood Boulevard.

That tradition ended many years ago amid an assortment of mishaps.

But for seven nights at every Christmastime over the last decade, the First United Methodist Church of North Hollywood has been staging a one-hour Nativity tableau in front of its building.

These people stand on solid ground; it is the spectators who drive by. It sounded a lot safer to me. Less time exposed to the weather, too.

So this year I asked whether, for one night, they would accept an outsider--one with Hollywood experience.

Besides, I had qualifications as a shepherd. When the truck carrying the Hollywood Nativity float had a flat tire one year, we abandoned the flatbed temporarily across from Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. But there remained the task of getting one live sheep off the float, across the boulevard and up to the United Methodist Church parking lot at Highland and Franklin avenues. The sheep liked to stop a lot. He wouldn’t be pushed, but I found that a gentle pat or two encouraged him to move along.

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With such qualifications, the North Hollywood church’s living Nativity organizers were happy to accommodate me. I would take the first night, joining Rose Marie Sparling and six other members of the church’s Bible study class. Other church groups, including youngsters, take other nights on the 7 to 8 p.m. Nativity schedule that runs through Thursday.

As the hour approached, I guess my nervousness showed; I was the only one who needed to make a restroom stop. “Whenever the kids are doing it, that’s a trick getting them all to go to the bathroom beforehand,” said Jane Verstoep, who played a wise person--if you will, one of the Magi.

I had wondered for days whether I could stand still for 60 minutes, not having a swaying float as an excuse to move. But the tableau veterans demonstrated that the effect of the living Nativity is not lost if you are talking, shifting position or even singing Christmas carols, as we did a few times.

The angel (Sparling) and others waved to some motorists who honked while driving by on Tujunga Avenue.

(Some concern was raised in the church last year that the Nativity players--and there are children among them--might be in danger of a drive-by gang shooting or harassment. Police provided a patrol car to check on them that year, and assured church members that gangs were not likely to disturb them.)

The manger scene is not on a heavily traveled part of Tujunga. Across the street is a sliver of the long North Hollywood Park and Recreation Center. Just beyond that is the freeway More than one motorist has caught a glimpse of the lighted creche from the freeway and taken the Magnolia Boulevard exit to check it out.

On Friday, the tableau scene improved as the hour went along--thanks to church member Darwin Rinkenberger, a wiry 76-year-old. “Rink” came up with straw for the manger floor, wings for the angel and a shepherd’s crook to make me a bit more authentic.

Turns out the shepherding part was easy--just tending small painted animals you stick into the ground.

At one point, a mother and her little boy came out of a car to get a closer look. We couldn’t see who they were because the lights prevent the tableau players from seeing spectators clearly.

Despite Mary’s coaxing, the little boy was awfully shy about coming closer to see the baby Jesus doll.

“Hey, John,” one of tableau players said to me, “here’s an angle: The boy’s name is Gabriel.” I made a mental note, thinking that I could allude to the angel in the Gospel of Luke’s Nativity account.

Then, I thought, “Gabriel?”

I squinted against the light. It was my 3-year-old grandson. His mom and dad, who had just arrived from San Jose for a holiday visit, came down with grandma to watch grandpa scratch and shiver in his thin shepherd’s robe.

“Well, he was cute in his shyness,” I thought, “but I can’t put my own family into the story.” The semi-spiritual coincidence of the angelic Gabriel showing up wasn’t so coincidental after all.

Nothing very eventful, in fact, took place--certainly nothing quasi-miraculous. One night, in one year past, church secretary Nylean Rapinac said, “it rained like crazy before 7 p.m. and it rained after the hour, but while we stood there it didn’t rain at all.”

I can hark back to Hollywood for the weirdly symbolic moment.

One year, my wife and I were playing Mary and Joseph on the church float. Dressed in our costumes in the parade assembly area, we saw a place that was serving coffee and doughnuts on that cool evening.

At the door, we learned they were for the parade VIPs. “Mary” and “Joseph” were turned away.