Going to Bethlehem

 

The wall, close-up; graffiti as high as stepladders can reach.

Looking out of the windows of Tantur you see this incredibly long, winding grey wall in the distance. It's about 18 feet high and many kilometres long. The wall was erected 10 years ago, built by Israel to provide a safeguard against people in Palestine (over there) sneaking out with suicide bombs into Israeli territory (over here). There was a reason for that.
So now every person leaving Palestine has to stop at set checkpoints in the wall and show their papers; in addition, locals have their fingerprints scanned electronically while the guards study the results intently.  It can be a slow process. There is a checkpoint at the entrance to Bethlehem, and it’s Bethlehem you see beyond the wall, in Palestine, from Tantur’s windows.



Path to Bethlehem

Walking to Bethlehem from Tantur takes about 15 minutes. For a person who drives around the Superstore parking lot looking for immediate access parking, the thought of walking 15 minutes to the closest grocery store was unusual, but no-one else seemed surprised when our hosts mentioned it at dinner time, so I kept my thoughts to myself. Besides, Bethlehem means more than groceries, especially at Christmas time! That afternoon we slipped through a little gate set into the Tantur stone wall, strolled down a sheep path, made it through the checkpoint, and we were there.

We were greeted at once by a man called Joseph, friendly and warm, welcoming us to Bethlehem. "You are welcome, brother Paul, you are welcome!" he said, once he found out Paul's name, and promised us a cup of hospitality coffee. Of course the coffee was served in a shop owned by his good friend, Adnan, who wanted to sell us first-quality olive-wood carvings, but still, they became our friends, and after our tiny, cardamon-scented coffees, with a few stories shared, and with promises to return during our five month stay, we moved on to the town of Bethlehem proper.

Well, almost. We first had to hire a taxi to ascend the steep hill to Manger Square. We agreed on 10 shekels (yes, that’s the currency here. Sounds Biblical – go figure!!) Our Muslim driver had his radio on and, as we left, the call to prayer sounded on it. He became extremely unchatty. At every pause in the call, he pulled on the button that topped his hat, raising it off his head, murmuring. Then he faithfully lifted both hands off the steering wheel and pointed them heavenward. Several times! Did I mention that the road was winding?? And you might have heard something about traffic in these parts! Somehow we made it; the cost a mere 20 shekels and a few prayers!! 

 

Bow to enter the birthplace


 The heart of Bethlehem is wonderful! We went straight to the place where Jesus was  born, which was a cave just outside Bethlehem, according to Justin Martyr and Origen, writing in the 2nd & 3rd centuries. It doesn’t look very cave-like now!  Yes, you bend low to get through the tiny door (built small so looters couldn't escape easily); but then you open up in awe at the expansive ceilings, towering old smooth stone pillars, glowing chandeliers and gleaming candles. The style is very 6th century basilica, if you know what I mean! And the floor is cut open in places to see even more ancient mosaic floors below.  A service was just starting.

 


Church of the Nativity Altar, at Evensong

 

My first glimpse was of a man on a ladder, diligently adding bright red and green Christmas balls to the antique silver candelabra hanging down in the centre, perhaps hoping no-one would notice him working through church.  Near him, another man stood at the front, bellowing "Silence" at the masses of meek pilgrims lining up to pray. Brief silences were attempted. 

 

The inconspicuous ladder



Through it all, a pair of black-clad Orthodox priests sang their evensong prayers for God, moving before the ornate, gleaming altar, waving incense. The sweet smell pervaded the church and renewed our senses, distracting us from the visible so we could experience the holy unseen. We watched, and wondered, and the midst of it all, we worshipped. 

The crowds waiting to descend below the church into the nativity cave itself had grown enormously through the service, so we went outside instead, and were greeted by a life-size Walmart-style nativity scene!  But beyond it were white arched courtyards and orange trees hanging with fruit.... Fresh Christmas oranges!



St. Catherine the Martyr's church was next door, and down the road was the Grotto of Milk - honouring Mary's care of her Baby! That truly felt like a cave, but beautiful, with lovely pillars and a low rough ceiling. A good place to pray for parents. What a mix there is around Manger Square! Just across the way, past the massive, sparkling Christmas tree, is a mosque. It’s just Palestine in a (mixed-nuts) nutshell.

Having missed out on the coffee at the start, the boys bought cokes for 2 shekels each, and laughed as the look of the word "Coke" in Arabic almost looks like "Jesus" in English! Very appropriate for this part of the world.

 But as we left through the checkpoint, I thought back to our friend, the olive-wood store owner, Adnan, who is confined within the walls of Bethlehem because when he was 14 years old he was late getting home from school and was caught out in Israel past curfew time. He was thrown into jail for five months, and given a criminal conviction. Now his papers never allow him to pass the security check.

 "What do you hope for your children?" I’d asked Adnan as we left his shop, where his younger son sat behind the counter, playing computer games. Adnan didn't hesitate: "Peace, education and freedom," he replied. "I never want my son to go to prison like me."



Seems a simple hope when you're wandering around Bethlehem, holy place of peace and  goodwill to all. But in reality it's very tricky. 

The complicated mosaic under the surface