I really don’t care for Christmas plays.
Choral programs are tolerable because they at least have Christmas carols, and no matter how often
those things get recycled you can’t begrudge people all their traditions. Anyway,
some of those carols are quite nice.
But the plays! How many times must I witness people flouncing
around in bathrobes, talking like no one in 1st century Israel ever did? How
many rickety mangers occupied by plastic baby dolls must one endure? In some places
they even parade up some recent mother from the congregation, towing along her
screaming newborn, and the old ladies in the front row melt. Then there’s the
angelic choir of five teenagers wrapped in shower curtains and crowned with
coat-hanger haloes …
To employ the appropriate phrase, “Oy vey.”