E-mail
Print
RSS
G-bookmarks
Live
TechnoratiSome cloud-stomping ensues, snow falls, the lights go dark, and Erickson disappears down the ladder.
He has 90 minutes until his next scene. Downstairs in the makeup room, Erickson sits back in a folding chair and describes his character as "goodhearted, but a little bit slow."
His kids' friends know him as "that crazy guy in the plays." But Erickson said he's shy. He grew more comfortable in the spotlight after graduating from college and taking a job with Youth for Christ.
"Working in a production like this year in and year out, you really do create a community," Erickson said. "Especially in our society, it's so easy to be lost in anonymity.
"This offers the community a chance to see a little bit of the church," he said. "It's not just holy people doing spiritual things. It's real people living real lives who have issues, but also have each other."
On Jan. 1, Erickson lost his job with a real estate development company. But he and his wife, Dawn, who was laid off from a parks and recreation district, didn't panic.
They were good savers. Their financial adviser said they were OK. Suddenly given free time, the couple traveled to Burma and Thailand to help with cyclone relief.
Then the news about Wall Street hit. Their 401(k) started to disappear. And it became clear that retirement might have to wait.
Erickson is back earning money consulting part-time with his old company, and he said taking part in the Christmas play has helped in other ways.
"You have to focus on what you're doing and take your mind off the other things," he said.
Yet he also knows that hard times are all relative, that he and his wife are better off than many.
One rehearsal was interrupted when a stranger walked in.
"I'm really sorry to bother you," the man said. "I was just laid off, my wife has been laid off, my daughter lost her job, and we have a family of seven. I've got a 2-year-old and a baby that's six months."
He needed diapers, toilet paper, milk, infant formula. He needed everything.
Practice came to a halt. The food bank was opened. A choir member dug a few dollars out of his wallet.
"You need to buy diapers and milk for your kids," he said.
Near the end of "Bethlehem's Big Night," Harold, Angel Second Class Cloud Stomper is back in heaven, sitting on a bench, eating cotton candy and cracking more jokes.
Sometimes, Erickson worries that the message gets lost in the gags and laughs. But, he said, sometimes you need gags and laughs to get people's attention.
Down on stage, a crowd gathers in the manger around Mary, Joseph and an infant. The baby Jesus -- in real life, the eight-week-old son of a church couple -- cries softly.
"Is that?" says Harold. "But .... How'd he get in there? He's so tiny."
Afterward, Erickson reflects on the power of that moment for him, which he hopes the audience felt.
"You hear a lot about the baby Jesus, the baby Jesus," he said. "But a lot of times, there's a disconnect between God and who that baby is. It's not just a symbol. It's God. It's a mind-blowing concept."
His lines finished, the pageant coming to an end, Harold the Cloud Stomper takes his place in heaven and joins the rest of the cast in song: "O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant ..."
GBforJesus »
Agree: 
Disagree: 
