I hate to be dramatic, but I’m pretty sure that shower tried to murder me.
It didn’t look that scary from the outside. It was pastel tiled and simply designed. The family who owned it had invited me to live with them for a few weeks while I studied Spanish in Costa Rica during college. They had a modest house outside of San Jose and all was perfectly peaceful until the first morning I took a shower.
In this section of Costa Rica, and perhaps other parts of Latin America, they did not have hot water heaters. In order to get warm water, you had to first turn on the metal showerhead. Then, once the water was on, you flipped a big breaker box that sparked and hissed, sending an electrical current into the pipe, thus warming the water.
This act broke every rule of electricity I had ever learned in shop class as a young lad. Let’s go over the process once more:
1. Get naked.
2. Turn on water.
3. Stand wet in growing puddle on a tile floor.
4. Flip a death row sized breaker switch.
5. Watch sparks fly.
As scary as playing around with electricity while naked and wet was, it was nothing compared to the pain of messing up the steps. Some mornings, I was so tired that I switched steps 4 and 2. I’d turn on the power first and then turn on the water. When you did that, you sent a powerful electrical current through the showerhead and then touched it in order to turn on the water. I never fell down from the shock, but I definitely saw stars.
After weeks of shock and awe, I remember how happy I felt when we stayed somewhere that had a hot water heater. It was just a rundown hotel, but it felt 5 star, because death by execution wasn’t awaiting me in the bathroom. But as nice as I remember that place being, it’s nothing compared to how nice we all like to remember the manger where Christ was born on Christmas.
Have you ever seen paintings of the manger from that fateful night? It looks like Martha Stewart got there a few days before Joseph and Mary arrived. You can almost see her spreading about a winter spice mix she got from Whole Foods to make the air smell all “tingly” and perhaps finding sprigs of Mediterranean evergreens to hang alongside cypress wreathes. Mmmmmm, manger.
And with live nativity scenes being formed at churches across the world last week, I thought it might be a good time for us to put the “mange” back in manger. Here are 3 ways we can:
1. Hire less agreeable animals
Most manger scenes I’ve seen have donkeys that look like they want to have a cup of hot cocoa with you and maybe read you “Goodnight Moon” before they tuck you into bed after a long winter’s night. Donkeys, however, are jerks. They love to kick, bite and then kick you again if you make additional eye contact with them. Step one in fixing our manger scenes is to hire some jerk animals.
2. Get more spiders.
Every barn or manger I’ve ever been at has been like some sort of gangsta’s paradise for spiders. You can’t take two steps in them without walking through a massive spider web and feeling like you’re about to get attacked like the scientist in the movie Arachnophobia. You want to make your manger more authentic? Two words – “Buckets o’ Spiders.”
3. Get less supple hay.
I’m not sure what the thread count is on the hay baby Jesus was laying on the manger scenes I’ve seen, but it looks delightful. Perhaps Egyptian? Hard to say. But real hay is horrible. It’s pokey, it’s sharp and it’s constantly trying to stab you in the neck. Get a bale of hay from a farm down the street from your church, not costume hay. And it’s probably going to be chock full of spiders, so…bonus.
Perhaps with the over commercialization of Christmas and the rampant consumerism, we’ve got bigger issues to be considered about. But I do think a dirty manger is part of the story. It’s part of the wild, untamable wonderfulness of that night. That into the muck and mess of this world, a perfect savior was born to rescue us.
And please know that if I visit your church and your donkey doesn’t try to at least kidney punch me once when I’m not looking, I am going to be very disappointed.
Comments
One of your best posts ever!!
Those shower heads are called ” widow makers” for obvious reasons.
I experienced one on a mission in Guatemala. Frightening to say the
least.
Haha great post. My wife and I have discussed this very issue.
The thing that gets us is that all the nativity scenes we've seen have the baby Jesus in the aforementioned Egyptian hay holding his arms out. As though he's waiting for a big hug or somthing. No newborn has the strength or motor skills to hold their arms out like that!
I've got some more nativity mythbusting. Neither the Gospel of Matthew or Luke say whether Mary rode a donkey from Naz to B-Town. She could have gone VIA rail! Or Southwest Airlines! Or, maybe she just rode her brand new rollerblades! Another thing that bugs me about nativity scenes is that they always just plop only three wise men in there. Did the manufacturers make a mistake? Spare parts? An extra "Joseph" just incase one broke down? Nope… those men are indeed wise. So instead of putting them with the actual nativity scene, put them across the yard ! And why not make seven more wise men? Okay, so you have to steal your kid's Sock 'em Bop Buddy and do a few other things you're not proud of, but at least you're nativity scene will be closer to the real thing. Cred for trying.
We have really romanticized the birth of Jesus. The Bible didn't specify too much, but we added a lot more spice for movie rights. I think when I tell the story next year, I'm gonna replace the donkey riding part with Mary and Joseph parachuting down from a pterodactyl. And Kenny Loggins will be the pilot of that pterodactyl…
This story is especially poignant, as I remember back when I birthed my girls. The only thing that would give me peace at any time during the first few days, was when I was very clean, my baby was very clean, and we were both fed, I was medicated with a delicious pain pill, and I could gaze around my room at all the flowers and gifts people had brought.
Guess I never would have been picked as Mary.
the actual scene was probably not like a barn…they had sort of 2 story stone dwellings where they slept upstairs and downstairs was an area where the precious animals slept for protection..donkey,lambs,cow/oxen…it's not the barnyard extravaganza we make it out to be.
I've been to Costa Rica. I remember those shower heads. There is a fine line between "do I want to kill myself" and "I haven't had a hot shower in days." I showered – I lived on the edge. Never got fried but heard of those that did get a jolt. One day I found a scorpion under my pillow. Talk about a sign it was time to leave!
I'm terrible at following any blog, but I'm glad I saw this post! Ever heard of the book "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever"? It's a short, easy (and funny) read that also gives a bit more realistic picture, too.
Great post,
However, isn't “Buckets o’ Spiders” actually three words? Just sayin'.
Dave
The shower part made me laugh. I live in the Middle East where we had some sort of problem with our water and hot water heater. Whenever our hot water heater was on (during about 10 hours of electricity a day) a regular current of electricity would then run through the water and also our metal sink basin. Thus, even metal pots sitting in the sink would become electrified. Always kept us on our toes!
I've been on multiple mission trips and it seems like the shower always becomes part of the story.
In the Philippines we had a shower that had a guard spider. We would go in and turn it on full blast to get this minuscule trickle of water. Every morning this huge spider would come out from hiding in the wall, rare its front two feet up and choose us off. I don't know why we didn't just pick up a brick and smash it. Fortunately it never made a run at me or I'm sure I would have had a stroke.
Last time in Romania the government graciously decided to turn off the hot water for the whole time I was there. We had to heat the water up on the stove and then use a cup to pour the water over our body.
Good point Jon, I never thought of it that way! But keep the spiders out of this. They creep me out.
I don't know if anyone else mentioned this yet or not… but where the heck do we get that Mary rode to Bethlehem on a donkey? (I had always believed that until this year, actually, so no finger-pointing, just a question!)
I was part of a living nativity in Germany and the sheep (ram) had massive horns. I was Mary and was supposed to sit still for a certain amount of time ooking adoringly at the babydoll in the manger. The sheep with the massive horns wanted to eat the hay or straw in the manger, though, so I kept whispering to my husband, Joseph to use his shepherd's crook to keep the sheep out of the manger. We forget that it IS a feeding trough.
Every time I go to leave a comment, I really have nothing more to say than the fact that you are hilarious! Thanks for the laughs!