It’s barely the size of a match box. But with its warm colors and subtle details, a Peruvian Nativity scene of Joseph, Mary and Jesus is stirring souls in the sanctuary of Mission Hills United Church of Christ.
So is a delicate Nativity from Vietnam made of recycled magazine paper and a sturdy one from Haiti crafted from oil drums.
In all, there are 50 nativities from almost two dozen countries on display at the Jackdaw Street church, drawn from the collection of the Rev. David Bahr, who is using their artistry and appeal to more fully celebrate the birth of Jesus during the Christmas season.
Nativities can be found all over San Diego County, but likely not in the numbers he’s brought together.
“The center of my beliefs is that God came to us in human form to share our suffering and joys and to walk among us for however many years we’re provided, giving us hope,” said Bahr, who moved to San Diego from Denver about two years ago.
“I want people of every color and culture to see themselves represented in Jesus. These nativities are a way of doing that.”
His mission extends beyond the church, which will fill with parishioners twice on Sunday for Christmas Eve services. Bahr regularly posts fresh photos of his nativities on Instagram and Facebook. It’s a passion touched with whimsy. He’s photographed many of the tableaus amid the backdrop of local beaches, giving a homey touch to one of Christianity’s grand traditions.
The characters in one nativity were placed among glistening sea shells at Mission Beach. A second display was set on a porch above Torrey Pines State Beach, as paragliders took flight in the distance. A third rested on a rock at Ocean Beach while frothy waves slopped ashore.
Reverend David Bahr poses with a Nativity scene from Guatemala at the pulpit at Mission Hills United Church of Christ.
(Kristian Carreon/For The San Diego Union-Tribune)
“I got soaked taking that one,” said Bahr, who owns more than 80 nativities from places as different as a JCPenney store in Denver to a village in Senegal. They range in height from a half inch to 2 feet.
Parishioner James Roth of La Mesa marveled at the sight of it all earlier this week as honey-colored sunlight streamed through a stained glass window in the sanctuary.
“People walk around here like this is a museum, looking at the nativities before and after church,” Roth said. “They stop before each one, muse upon them, then go to the next, like you would do when looking at art.
“They feel privileged to experience what the Nativity means to people of different countries. This has enhanced the holidays.”
Historians say St. Francis of Assisi created the first Nativity scene 800 years ago in Greccio, Italy, as a reflection of his love of Christmas. Assisi hoped that the scene of Joseph, Mary and baby Jesus in a manger, along with three wise men and animals, would appeal not only adults, but to children.
Bahr knows the story inside out. He grew up in a deeply religious family on a dairy farm in Northwood, North Dakota, just over an hour’s drive south of the Canadian border.
Christmas was one of the most anticipated events of the year. Hundreds of people would gather at a regional church that Bahr says “was at the intersection of two gravel roads in the middle of wheat fields.”
Parishioners had an unusual ritual. Instead of mailing Christmas cards to friends and family, they would put them under a Christmas tree during their annual holiday pageant. Later, children would pretend to be mail carriers and hand the cards to recipients.
Everyone got cards and an orange.
Why an orange?
“I guess because in the middle of winter in North Dakota and an orange was a seen as gift,” Bahr said, chuckling.
The celebration also included a play about the birth of Jesus featuring child actors.
“I played a sheep, then graduated to a shepherd, then maybe a wise man,” said Bahr, who is 58.
While he was still in high school, Bahr chose to have a career in religion, and things moved fast. At 20, he became pastor of a tiny church near Mitchell, South Dakota, while he was still attending Dakota Wesleyan University. He was ordained at 27, and became a reverend.
Bahr started collecting nativities about 15 years ago, often while traveling the world. He bought some. Others were gifts.
“I wasn’t doing it consciously,” Bahr said. “But it became a thing about five years ago. I look for them everywhere.”
His favorite nativity is a bit cheeky; it shows Joseph, Mary and Jesus riding on the roof of a ceramic Volkswagen van.
“I go on Facebook every day to see where he’s taken nativities to be photographed outdoor,” said Jere McInerney of Mission Hills, one of the church’s parishioners.
“He tells us why he went to each place. This reminds us of the meaning of Christmas at a time when the world seems to be turning upside-down.”
Bahr’s collection is expected to grow and grow. Roth wondered aloud about what will happen to the nativities after the reverend passes away.
There was an immediate answer.
“I’m taking them with me,” Bahr said, smiling broadly .
