A choir for Gabriel

When our grand-nephew told us about a Christmas play at his Sunday school, my husband and I were keenly interested. We believed that 13-year-old Gabriel had considerable stage presence and felt he should enact the role of someone strikingly significant—perhaps one of the wise men.

We had heard sermons about those sages probably not being royal but ignored that drab detail. Popularly known as kings, they are never portrayed plainly in Christmas pageants. Arrayed in gorgeous garments, with cumbersome cloaks trailing behind them, they seem incongruous in the setting of a stable.

Gabriel would be perfect in such a princely part, moving majestically towards the manger and bearing a gift for its infant occupant. Resplendent in satin robes and bejewelled turban, he would evoke the admiration of the audience. Just as I was wondering whether crimson or purple would suit that regal figure, the subject of my reverie marred my musings. Gabriel declared that he had no wish to ‘wear an uncomfortable costume’.

My husband and I were taken aback, but, with an intrepidity worthy of James Bond, we were shaken, not stirred. After all, there were other characters. Gabriel could be a simple but stately shepherd. I had not written the script of the play but thought of a line for him to say to his companions. “What is that strange light in the sky?” I inquired, looking upwards as that herdsman of old might have done. Gabriel was unimpressed.

Suddenly, we realised how obtuse we had been. How could we have failed to grasp that Gabriel did not want to be a king, a shepherd, or anyone but the angel whose name he shared? Angel Gabriel was Gabriel’s choice. I recalled Leigh Hunt’s poem Abou Ben Adhem, which I have taught for years, wherein a saintly man is visited by a supernatural being in celestial splendour. I visualised Gabriel in pristine white, with shining wings and a golden circlet.

Picturing our spirited teenager as a heavenly messenger, however, my imagination faltered. Gabriel is dear to us, and my husband and I view him through rose-tinted glasses, but we do not quite see him as angelic.

Eventually, Gabriel was among the many in the choir, content to contribute in a modest way to the spectacular presentation. By not seeking the spotlight, the youngster reminded us that humility is the hallmark of Christmas.