Imagining the Real Nativity Scene–Then and Now

In my family, like many others, setting up the Nativity scene has been a beloved Christmas tradition. My mother and I would carefully unwrap each porcelain figure – handpainted by my grandmother years before – and arrange them along the mantlepiece in my childhood home. The shepherds were clustered with the livestock to one side, and the magi on the other side with their hulking camels. All were angled toward the central grouping: Mary and Joseph, flanking the baby Jesus in the manger. The crèche portrays a moment, frozen in time, when this miniature universe revolves around the newborn baby Jesus.

As much as I cherish that nativity set, I’m afraid that it has limited my understanding of Jesus’s birth story. It’s given me the illusion that Mary and Joseph’s induction to parenthood was all “calm and bright.” Mary’s porcelain face appears tranquil as she kneels in prayer beside the manger. Where are the bags under the eyes of the new mother, exhausted by pregnancy, delivery, and travel? Where are the worry lines on the face of Joseph, who is trying to protect his vulnerable young family, all while struggling to pay his taxes and comply with the dictates of the empire? Where is the sweat from the stress searching for shelter? Even in that sacred moment, the Holy Family was more human than the porcelain figures in my nativity set suggest.

I imagine hitting “play” on this scene, making this freeze-frame Nativity spring to life. The shepherds and magi wander off, and while Mary feeds the baby, Joseph sprawls out on the straw to take a catnap. In his dream, an angel warns Joseph that danger is coming. The family flees to Egypt under the cover of darkness. Suddenly the iconic grouping portrayed in our Nativity scenes is scattered. Mary, Joseph, and Jesus are no longer the centerpoint of a peaceful tableau, but fugitives on the run. Like so many people in our own time, they had become vulnerable migrants hiding out on the social margins of an unfamiliar land.

Mary and Joseph fled to protect their son from Herod’s policies, which were bent on destroying Jesus by destroying children like him. This story is now all too familiar for the families of LGBTQ+ youth, who know what it is to fear rulers bent on rooting out “certain kinds of kids.” In our current political climate that demonizes trans people and denies them gender affirming healthcare, the parents of trans youth face overwhelming questions. Should they move somewhere their child would be safer? Can they afford to relocate? If so, how will they raise a child without the social support of their family and community? Or should they stay put, hide their child from scrutiny as best they can, and try to protect them? These are the very real conversations happening over kitchen tables across the United States, and keeping parents up at night.

According to research by the Trevor Project, nearly half of transgender and nonbinary youth have considered moving to a different state, and 4% have actually moved due to anti-LGBTQ+ policies and laws. In states with especially harmful policies, the percentage of trans and nonbinary youth who have considered moving is as high as 68%. This accounts for hundreds of thousands of families considering relocating to protect their children. 

This year, when I gaze at the images of Mary, Joseph, and the vulnerable baby Jesus, I also see the faces of trans people and their loved ones. Please join me in prayer on this eve of the Feast of the Holy Family:

• For parents of trans and nonbinary children who are worried and overwhelmed. Like Joseph, may they hear a clear message from God about how to protect their families. May they have the emotional and financial resources necessary to lead their children to safety.
• For LGBTQ+ youth living in hostile environments. May they find healthy spaces in which they can grow and flourish.
• For families headed by single parents and same-gender couples: May they be welcome in parishes and faith communities which value their unique gifts.
• For leaders in our communities. May they resist the whims of tyrants so as to protect innocent lives.

When we box up our Nativity scenes this year, let’s also pack away our illusion of a picture-perfect, porcelain Holy Family. Instead, let’s deepen our understanding of their plight, and recognize them in the struggles and graces of our neighbors.

—Ariell Watson Simon, New Ways Ministry, December 27, 2025