Worship and Evangelization Outreach / Joann Riner

SPRED retreat unwraps unique dramatization of the Nativity

It was an unlikely place for a retreat. A school cafeteria, with bright fluorescent lights, tile floor and dozens of fiberglass chairs. In the gymnasium above, fifth graders played basketball. To us, the running sounded like thunder. The smell of popcorn from the concession stand snaked downstairs.

It was an unlikely setting for an unlikely group. These were not reverent pilgrims. Some danced in, laughing. Others walked slowly, some limped, one young man with head tilted forward spoke to no one in particular, another muttered while clutching a plastic toy to his chest.

Others were boisterous; a few looked guarded, bewildered. The stoic few filed in silently. A smiling young woman, unable to walk, speak, hold up her head or grasp objects arrived with her mom. Some used walkers, a few had assistants, three wore festive Santa hats. Few took social cues from anyone else. Looking for caffeine, two of the women in Santa hats asked permission to leave to find Coca-Cola.

Eventually, 27 adults with developmental disabilities assembled for our annual Advent retreat hosted by Special Religious Development (SPRED).

Retreat planners filled the day with music, singing, a delicious lunch, themed crafts, stories dramatized by costumed Old Testament characters, snacks and a surprise visit from St. John the Baptist. The group also attended Mass.

I planned a session for the group to experience, through smell, hearing, touch and sight—the mystery of the Nativity.

I considered evoking the texture and smell of the manger by hot gluing straw to small blocks of wood. Or maybe I’d pass around a basket of straw to touch and smell. Scouring the Internet for a Nativity scene, I found a colorful one jammed with activity to distribute as a thought starter.

I asked the group to look at the Nativity scene and enter into it. Soon, it was time to share.

No one made the observations I expected. They saw angels, palm trees, sheep, wise men. “But what do you feel underfoot?” I prompted. “Give me texture,” I pleaded silently. “What would walking on straw sound like?” Silence. OK, “Look at how many animals there are. How do you think it smells in there?” Giggles. “Can you see that this smelly, dirty animal pen is the most unlikely, the last place anyone would expect to find Jesus?” Heads went down.

The Nativity scene mesmerized them. It had one unusual feature. The artist painted a tiny, barely visible white bird perched high on a beam behind the Holy Family.

Suddenly, an excited shout: “Hey, I see a chicken!” Twenty-six heads dropped to look. “No,” said one of the women wearing a Santa hat, still nursing a Coke, “It’s a pigeon.” Two warring camps emerged. This wasn’t catechesis. It was Where’s Waldo?

Soon, I was laughing. Everyone was laughing.

I looked at them, 27 precious people—all of them—these, the most unlikely. I realized I was looking directly at the Incarnation, the very scene I’d given them.

It was an unlikely place, an unlikely group and an unlikely moment to find Jesus in the second row, wearing a Santa hat, sipping a Coke while smiling at me.
 

(SPRED is an approach to faith formation for persons with disabilities supported by the archdiocesan Office of Catechesis. For more information, contact catechesis@archindy.org or 317-236-1550. Joann Riner, a member of St. Simon the Apostle Parish in Indianapolis, is a member of the Advent Retreat planning team.) †