O Little Town of Bethlehem

Christmas is almost here, and I am ready! The gifts are wrapped, the cookies baked, the menu set. It is my favorite time of the season. I do love the hustle and bustle, but I also treasure the contrasting silent night. I absolutely love to linger by the tree with a cup of coffee, a cozy blanket, Christmas music, and if I am lucky, my little beagle, Lexi.

I sit with my laptop wanting to write a Christmas blog post, hoping for inspiration. At any given time, I have several drafts on various topics, but I have nothing for Christmas. I look at the Christmas tree, the deep green in contrast to the warm lights. Each of the carefully placed ornaments tells a story, but nothing that prompts me to write. Deep breath in; I take in the smell of fresh cedar and pine. I admire the Nativity scene, the intricately carved details capturing the emotions of a new mother, a proud father, animals at rest. A shepherd, an angel, a star. Three wise men and three camels. A star to guide the way; an angel bending low. And there it is, my writing prompt: the simple Nativity scene that unexpectedly made its way into my heart and then to my home when I visited Bethlehem last spring.

I didn’t set out to obtain a Nativity scene. My preparation for our trip to the Holy Land was all about history and logistics! I was prepared for every kind of weather, had all the right adapters, had read up on all we were going to see. I studied local customs, and reviewed tips and tricks for a perfect tour. I brushed up on my knowledge of every place we would be visiting. I did not read one single thing about the treasures and trinkets to bring home. No, I did not intend to purchase a Nativity. Even when we stopped in a few shops along the way, I admired a piece here and there, but with no interest in owning one of these jewels. But when we arrived in Bethlehem, I was completely overcome when I stepped into the Bethlehem Nativity store. The Nativity scenes lined the walls, each one exquisite. The individual pieces were carefully and masterfully carved. The intricate detail conveyed expressions, emotions. The rich and varied tones shown in each olive wood piece which was carefully dried and polished. Oh, my heart! This girl’s love of Jesus and Christmas was completely wrapped up in one particular scene. But, to make such an investment without planning it? The store manager was convincing, and I don’t begrudge him that…this is his livelihood. He told me about the tradition of the Nativity carving, an art taught to the local people by the Monks during Byzantine rule. Now, this craft is a key source of income for local Palestinian Christians. I vacillated between, “if I don’t get it now, the opportunity is gone” and “I have a lovely set at home.” In fact, the entire tour bus was loaded and waiting on me while I stood there indecisive. So at the last possible minute, I said, “I must have it” and handed over my plastic.

When the time came to decorate for Christmas, I thought I had the perfect spot for it. Not where I had kept the one my husband and I purchased together in our first year of marriage. No this was going front and center on the mantel among the fresh cedar garland, with the focus lights illuminating it! After carefully placing each piece, I stepped back to admire the scene. But I realized this was not at all the right location. Yes, this is a great spot to highlight art, but it was just wrong. Too prominent, too loud. I carefully took each piece to the nook in the curve of our staircase, the home to our first Nativity. And there, it was perfect. I added dried moss to resemble hay and a few subtle lights placed underneath and behind, just to give it a soft glow. Unassuming, beautiful in simplicity. Easily noticed, but not demanding attention. Just like our savior.

During this Christmas season, I have had a heavy heart for the Holy Land. It is a real place, rich in history, replete with artifacts. The people are lovely. I remember being amazed at how the people of three major religions, all having a common root, can live and work relatively peaceably together for even a day. Conflict and war in this area are as old as the land. But, having walked through Hezekiah’s Tunnel, knelt low before the place where Jesus was born, sailed on the Sea of Galilee, and visited the empty tomb, I feel a connection to the people I did not expect. I think of our primary tour guide whose young son was serving in the military and I pray that he is safe. I think of the shop owners, and I am glad I contributed to their livelihood, albeit a small part as I know the shops have been dark since early October. I pray for our Bethlehem tour guide, a young Christian man who was so enthusiastic about his love for Jesus and the place of His birth.

I have read that Manger Square, Bethlehem, usually festive and bright this time of year, has been dark. No decorations, no lights, no parades. All festivities: cancelled. Shops closed. Places usually full of locals and visitors gathering now stand silent as the war ranges nearby. The mood is heavy, souls are weary. However, mass on Christmas Eve will go on as planned in the Church of the Nativity, which enshrines the very birthplace of Jesus. When I was there, we were elbow-to-elbow with people all over the world standing in line for a brief moment to see and touch the place where God became flesh to live among us. But this year, there are no tourists, no pilgrimages from afar. Nonetheless, believers will come to adore their King. Though hearts will be heavy, faith will be strong.  And Jesus will be present on this still, silent night in Bethlehem, just as He was all those years ago, born the Savior of the world.

I leave you with a message from a Christian Holy Land tickets and tours website:

“May the Incarnation of Christ rekindle in each of us

the hope and peace our world so desperately needs.”

Merry Christmas! Until next time, I am Living

Between the Scans