We sang Christmas carols
in the minivan as we drove to Bethlehem the other night. And it struck me
how different the Bethlehem of today is from the one I’ve always envisioned
during the Christmas season. Maybe you dream of the same place every
year? You know, the little town lying still beneath the darkened sky.
The comfy stable back behind a busy inn, filled with sweet smelling hay.
A mysterious star guiding strangers from afar, and strange happenings
among the shepherds in the fields just down the hill.
Our minivan slips right
through the 8-meter tall “security wall”, past armed soldiers and border
checkpoints. Without the benefit of diplomatic license plates on their
donkey, though, Joseph and Mary would have found it quite a bit harder to enter
Bethlehem today. A complicated discussion about ID cards, “Area A” and
citizenship would have certainly delayed their arrival at one of the few hotels
in town.
We pass under the
observation towers and inch our way up what used to be the main road connecting
Jerusalem and Bethlehem. Reduced to about a lane-and-a-half by concrete
detours of the wall and security checkpoints, it’s just about wide enough to
let us squeak by a line of tour buses returning to
Jerusalem. When impatient taxis try to jump the queue by driving up
our side of the road, we seek refuge on the sidewalk.
Driving through the
center of town, past “Nativity Square”, Bethlehem is decked with lights and
decorations. Santa and his reindeer compete with the baby Jesus and
his family. Vendors hawking “genuine Bethlehem handicrafts,” vie with
restaurants and stores lining the narrow streets. Christmas carols blare
on tinny loudspeakers, and crowds of pilgrims and tourists jostle for entrance
to the church where the original stable may well have stood.
I suppose the chaotic,
crowded Bethlehem of today is similar in many ways to the chaos that descended
on Bethlehem 2000 years ago, when all in “the line of David” returned to their
ancestral home to respond to Caesar's census decree. Swap out Palestinian
Authority policemen for Roman legionnaires, honking taxis for braying donkeys
and crowds of tourists for throngs of census takers and you’ll probably
get a good idea of what the “little town” of the carols really felt like that
busy season
We ate dinner
overlooking a field where shepherds once watched their flocks by night.
On the hilltop in the distance, the lights of Bethlehem twinkle, but here
in the field, all is quiet. The stars shine bright in the dark sky above, and I
can well imagine why the shepherds were terrified to see a “company of the
heavenly host” appear out of the darkness. As we walk the same dusty
paths trod on by the wisemen, shepherds and Holy Family of the Nativity, amid
the turmoil that is the Middle East, I can’t help but wonder that the “Prince
of Peace” was actually born here. In Bethlehem.
In a town caught in
conflict between the two sons of Abraham. A town divided not only by
concrete barricades, but also by barriers of violence, mistrust, and hardened
hearts. A small town in a small region
of the world that seems so far from being peaceful today. As we celebrate
the coming of the Prince of Peace 2000 years ago, may the peace He promises be our guiding light!
O
little town of Bethlehem
How
still we see thee lie
Above
thy deep and dreamless sleep
The
silent stars go by
Yet
in thy dark streets shineth
The
everlasting Light
The
hopes and fears of all the years
Are
met in thee tonight
Merry Christmas from the Rubesh Family
Celebrating the good tidings... in the land where it all began!
