When St. Francis of Assisi first staged a live nativity in 1223, he likely did not envision a tradition that would endure. Eight centuries later, it is alive and well the world over, including the banks of Salt Lake City’s Red Butte Creek.
Even in times when “peace on earth” seems to be lacking, for one night, the tradition felt alive at the Nativity in the Glen.
For 20 years, the single-night event has been staged at Bonneville Glen, which is owned by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and it’s grown into a multi-denominational gathering that attracts hundreds of people.
Jeff Edwards, a member of the Bonneville Stake, helped create the event in 2004.
“We talked with the Baptist Church, the Presbyterian church, the Catholic Church and the [Greek] Orthodox Church, and everybody said ‘yes,’ and it just has taken on a life of its own.”
Edwards said the event has taken on even greater meaning this year.
“I think with all the challenges there are around the world with peace in question, being able to look back across 2,000 years and give people a feel for what that might have been like — I think that's why we do this.”
For the first time, the St. Catherine of Siena Catholic Newman Center at the University of Utah is involved in the Nativity at the Glen. Father Gabriel Mosher is the pastor there.
“This is a moment when we are provided an opportunity to say, ‘You know what? We’re here together, we’re trying to do something positive, something good. We might not agree on everything but that’s OK.’”
Despite the cold, inky-black night, a crowd lined up in the parking lot to pay “taxes” in the form of a charitable donation.
“I’ve never seen a crowd this big before,” said Edwards, whose breath was visible in the cold air.
Edwards said they’ve aimed to make their nativity an intimate experience.
“We tried to follow the account that’s given in the New Testament about all the things that happened as Joseph and Mary came from Jerusalem to Bethlehem,” he said. “Part of that, of course, was going back to the city of their birth and paying their taxes.”
Making it past the taxman, the crowd wended its way toward the makeshift town of Bethlehem, set on a hillside, with Red Butte Creek flowing by. First, they passed through gates guarded by Centurions who stood above fires in barrels.
Clad in shepherd’s clothing, volunteer Wayne Hull welcomed the masses to Bethlehem in Hebrew and English and marveled at the turnout.
“We're excited that there are more people, and I think it's because we brought more people from other faiths together, and it's really nice to see them all mixed together,” Hull said. “A lot of them I know, a lot of them I don’t, and I gave some hugs wherever I could.”
Visitors followed a path lit by torches, eventually arriving at the makeshift town with costumed merchants selling fruits, vegetables and fowl, while others crafted clay pots.
Beyond the village, the line paused as people neared the nativity scene. Duke Heninger is among those waiting. He’s been coming to the Nativity in the Glen for 15 years. His two-year-old boy was in his arms, and his wife and three other children huddled close by.
“We've been in line a full hour, and we still come no matter how long the line is,” he noted. “It's in a nice setting, and it's just pretty all around here. I don't think it's this cold in Jerusalem, but that's OK.”
Heninger’s daughter, 11-year-old Amelia added that the nativity was a tradition they looked forward to and, even more, her siblings like the animals. There were two camels on the hillside and barn animals were there for the petting.
Sister Mayra Haroldson, who was in Salt Lake City on an LDS mission, happened to be in charge of a particularly popular baby cow. She marveled at what the night meant.
“I think that bringing different faiths together tonight brings hope and people are just enjoying the peace that comes from this scene,” she said.
Above the nativity itself, shepherds and animals dotted the hillside as Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus played their roles in a wooden stall. The Three Wise Men stood close at hand. Silent Night streamed from a hidden speaker. The narration began as the crowd stood in awe for the 3 minutes they were allotted at the main attraction.
Several different couples played Mary and Joseph throughout the night, with their baby in the role of Jesus. George and Ashley Slaughter and their new son Martin were among them.
“We go to St. Catherine's Church and one of the parishioners there has been involved in the planning,” Ashley said. “And he knew that I had just had a baby, so he invited me to our family to come do the Nativity.”
She added that it was great to have a unifying story that all denominations could get behind, something everyone could gather around without a lot of controversy.
Volunteers Steven and Annie Schwemmer, the event co-chairs, surveyed the throngs as they passed the nativity scene and exited the site.
“In a year where it's been kind of divisive, this is something that's brought us all together for a common cause,” Annie said. “And nobody's mentioned politics tonight."
Her husband nodded in agreement.
“That's the beauty of this,” Steven noted. “In 2024, we all could use some peace, we all could use some togetherness.”
