Popular history often attributes the invention of the nativity scene in its current form to St. Francis of Assisi. However, the historical reality of Greccio in 1223 is very different from the idealized image we have retained. After his trip to the Holy Land, Francis did not want to create a “decorative object” but rather a total spiritual experience. His stroke of genius was to move the liturgy: he asked that midnight mass be celebrated outdoors, in a cave, on a manger (praesepium) filled with hay, between a real ox and a real donkey. There were no statues or figurines on this occasion. Francis's goal was to allow the faithful to see “with their own eyes” the suffering and destitution of the newborn in Bethlehem. The fundamental objective was for all participants to share an experience, a “Miterlebnis,” to use Max Scheler's expression: to shed their role as outside spectators and participate fully in the scene.

It was only in the 16th century that the three-dimensional nativity scene, with its removable figurines, became widespread, particularly under the influence of the Jesuits. Popular piety then took hold of this medium and turned it into a veritable “theater of the world.” Sometimes this fervor verged on extravagance, as in the collection of Duchess Piccolomini in 1567, which included 116 figurines, including a giraffe, a centaur, and a unicorn, or in the luxury of Neapolitan goldsmiths, where even the shepherds' hats sparkled with pearls. Although these excesses may have been criticized as “capucinades” by 18th-century rationalists, they actually reveal a deep desire to show that all creation, even imaginary, participates in the celebration of the Messiah of Israel.

The presence of Provençal santons, characters in 19th-century costumes, and contemporary craftsmen at the foot of the Child Jesus is not a naive anachronism, but an act of inculturation of the faith. As the Directory on Popular Piety emphasizes, popular piety must use the cultural elements of a given environment to effectively appeal to the sensibilities of the faithful. By adding a baker, a blacksmith, or a musician, popular imagination seeks to express that, in the new world inaugurated by Jesus, there is room for everything that is human. The Nativity is no longer a distant historical event, but a reality that unfolds here and now, in our own village. These figurines represent “everyday holiness,” showing that Jesus shares his divine life with us in the most ordinary gestures of daily life. The nativity scene thus becomes a “living Gospel” that brings the mysteries of Christ's life closer to our daily lives.

The nativity scene places us at the heart of a fruitful Christological tension. It simultaneously expresses a Christology from below and a Christology from above.

The Christology from below is manifested in the emphasis on the radical poverty and fragility of the Child. Jesus lies in an animal manger, already foreshadowing the bareness of the Cross. As we contemplate this “silent baby,” we touch the humility of God who lowers himself to our smallness. This perspective allows every face of humanity, especially the poorest and most excluded, to be reflected in the scene, for they are the “privileged ones of this mystery.”

Despite his silence, this child is immediately presented as the transcendent Subject of all history, thus manifesting a Christology from above. The titles given to him by the liturgy and the evangelists (Lord, Son of the Most High, Emmanuel) affirm his divine transcendence and pre-existence. The nativity scene synthesizes these two dimensions: it allows us to “know God visibly in order to be carried away to the love of invisible realities.” It shows that salvation does not come from an abstract system, but from an encounter with a Person whose “hidden glory” is manifested in the flesh.

The nativity scene calls for a specific spiritual attitude, very similar to that proposed by Saint Ignatius of Loyola in the Spiritual Exercises. The faithful are invited to become “a poor little one,” to serve the people present in the scene (Mary, Joseph, the Child) and to take the events to heart.

The first point is to see the people: to see Our Lady, Joseph, the servant, and the Child Jesus after he is born, making me, as a poor little one and an unworthy little slave, look at them, contemplate them, and serve them in their needs, as if I were present, with all possible respect and reverence. And then reflect within myself in order to gain some benefit. The second point. Observe what they say, pay attention to it and contemplate it, and, reflecting within myself, gain some benefit. The third point. Watch and consider what they do: traveling and laboring so that the Lord may be born in the greatest poverty and, after so many trials, after hunger, thirst, heat and cold, insults and affronts, may die on the cross; 3 and all this for me. Then, reflecting, draw some spiritual benefit. (Spiritual Exercises 114-116)

This contemplation is not a solitary exercise, but expresses a need to be together around the cave, abolishing the distance between the event and those who participate in it. Faced with the threat of “sad” or overly conceptual liturgies, the nativity scene offers a “joyful ritual.” It is a “school of life” where we learn that true joy does not consist in possessing many things, but in knowing that we are loved by the Lord.

By inviting us to rediscover our childlike spirit, the nativity scene teaches us to look at the world with wonder. It frees us from the “shackles” of our sophisticated processes of domination and brings us back to the supreme reality: a God who makes himself present in the darkness of our nights to answer our deepest questions. Even in the age of satellites, humanity still needs to return to Bethlehem to fully experience this mystery of love, to listen to the Gloria of the Angels who connect heaven and earth. Alban Massie, S.J.