'Organized chaos' at drive-through Nativity: The weather, animals and small children are among the challenges at a church's drive-through Nativity.
Good angels don't return catcalls. That's an interpretation of the golden rule in full force tonight for the winged messengers who will hover outside Penn Forest Christian Church.
The three white-robed spirits atop 7-foot-high scaffolding are essentials in the church's annual live Nativity presentation. But in the past they have been baited by teenagers in cars.
"Sometimes you get boys who heckle. They may know the angels from school," said Gena Layfield, a member of the church who took vacation time from her job to volunteer in preparations for the pageant.
Teen angels have in past years hurled brickbats back at their earthly tormenters. "We say, 'Don't. Just don't respond,' " Layfield said. "Angels shouldn't lower themselves to insults."
Dealing with derision is merely one of numerous challenges that face the flock of the Southwest Roanoke County church as they set up an annual spectacle that's scheduled for 7 1/2 hours over three nights. Layfield said, "It's supposed to be postcard perfect, but it's really organized chaos."
The congregation goes way beyond tidy typical live Nativity scenes that feature Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus and a couple of shepherds. Compared to that, Penn Forest Christian Church's Nativity is Broadway. It has nine scenes staged 40 or 50 feet apart and spread around the church building, allowing cars a slow drive-through.
The $5,500 budget includes lighting and sound professionals so there's narration and music with each scene. The animals, rented from Natural Bridge Zoo in Rockbridge County, would do Noah's ark proud: several goats, sheep, donkeys and three camels -- all unruly and itching to escape into the surrounding residential neighborhood.
Counting the cast, stagehands and other support workers, there are 60 to 70 church members involved, representing more than 20 percent of the congregation.
There are no rehearsals -- everyone works or is in school all week. The dependability of volunteers is uncertain.
"If a Mary or Joseph, or even Jesus, gets sick or has to work late, you have to call on someone else," said Rodney Fulton, a retired high school technology teacher who has been volunteering since the pageant started in 1984.
Some children volunteer without knowing what they're getting into. Kneeling as a shepherd for the assigned shifts of 30 or 45 minutes can be tedious, Layfield said.
"Little kids get fidgety. So we'll accept shepherds as young as 4 years, but their parents have to be in costume right there with them."
Standing on tall scaffolds can be scary, especially when the wind picks up, let alone the occasional snow. "We interview the angels thoroughly to make sure they have the nerve," Layfield said.
Replacing characters during shift changes can be awkward. There aren't any curtains, so fresh actors appear from within the church at the side of those on duty.
"You may drive through at a time when there are more than three wise men," for example, Layfield said. "But you know, the Bible doesn't actually say how many wise men there were."
Still, the grass-roots character of the nativity is an integral part of its charm. Several children at the church originated the first pageant, on a much smaller scale, and it has remained a mission that bubbles up from the pews, not the pulpit.
Pastor Jim Herron wasn't even around this week for the preparation. "They know what they're doing. This is a good time for me to take off and visit family in Kentucky. I'll be back for Christmas Sunday," he said.
What he missed is the roughly 52 hours put in by about 15 people to arrange the nine sets that are heavy on carpentered pieces including 3-by-4-foot Bibles open to excerpts of the Scripture and braced against wind by heavy stands, a 20-foot-long silhouette of the Bethlehem skyline, giant clouds as a backdrop for the angels and a newly constructed stable.
"In the past we built the stable by buying 50 bales of hay that we'd stack," Fulton said. "But they were really heavy and this year, with the drought, hay is more expensive. So we built one out of wood that we can take apart and store every year."
Racing against the opening deadline of 6:30 tonight, when the first cars will be admitted, the workers still hadn't gotten around to painting the new stable in earth tones by Wednesday afternoon.
Under almost as little control as the weather are the pageant's bevy of beasts, which reside between performances in the church's fenced-in children's playground. "The camels we get are usually pregnant and that can make them resistant to going where they're supposed to and staying put," Layfield said.
Sheep tend to scamper away from the untrained shepherds. "Two sheep took off a few years ago during a snow and we chased them down in a neighbor's back yard," Fulton said.
In another incident a goat hopped on the back of a donkey. Neither the donkey nor the motoring audience seemed daunted.
Goats are consistent troublemakers, Fulton said. "They'll start butting each other and get tangled up in their ropes."
Traffic flow is critical, Layfield said, because Roanoke County authorities have warned that the show could be closed if jams -- which have extended for a half mile on two-lane Penn Forest Boulevard -- aren't cleared promptly.
An estimated 1,000 to 1,500 cars typically visit the pageant during its three-night run, and each performance lasts until the last car in line has driven through.
What the slow-moving audience doesn't see is the furious activity within the church building. Inside, eight to 10 members prepare a supply of soups, sandwiches, dessert and hot drinks for characters on breaks.
Five classrooms are alive with workers fitting costumes and grooming cast members. Three makeup artists roam among the rooms. "The beards are the hardest to get right," Layfield said.
The actors are encouraged to wear thick clothing under their costumes, which is one reason the event has never been closed early or canceled because of cold. Angels in sheer robes occasionally don white long underwear to preserve their immortal style.
Only twice in its 22 years has the show been interrupted -- both times by rain.
Fulton said he finds the pageant's call to duty compelling. This year, as always he said, there was a singularly evocative moment for him when the unpacking of costumes stored in the church basement revealed several sets of satin-covered angel wings.
They were made by Fulton's wife, who died in 1989. "Her name was Pansy, and she made them for our first year, 1984," he said, gazing at the wings, which were showing signs of wear. Tonight, for a new crop of angels who will wear Pansy's wings, the show will go on.
