Oh, Little Town

\”But as for you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you One will go forth for Me to be ruler in Israel. His goings forth are from long ago, from the days of eternity.\”

Micah 5:2

‘Tis the season. We sing the familiar words, “Oh, little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie. Above thy deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by.” And we contemplate the place where our Savior was born. Are the song lyrics correct? What is the truth about the setting wherein Jesus became flesh?

For most who know the story, see a creche in a store, or watch the movie, it’s a lovely, iconic scene. A donkey, cows, sheep, maybe a chicken or two rest in their enclosure for the night. It’s a small wooden structure with a feeding trough, or manger, filled with hay. The animals are motionless. The hay is clean and fragrant. And the stable is nestled in the small, quaint village of Bethlehem whose citizens are peacefully sleeping the night away. Mary’s dress is pristine blue. Joseph’s beard is neatly trimmed. And the baby is a miracle of good behavior.

Bethlehem did have many noteworthy attributes for its residents—likely under 1,000 lived there back in the day—to enjoy since its inception around the fourteenth century BC as a Canaanite settlement. Perched 2,700 feet above sea level, the hills surrounding it were terraced for farming of fig trees and almonds, and for sheep to be pastured, while grain grew in the valley. Jacob buried Rachel near its gate. It was the home of Ruth. And the birthplace of David, who would be anointed by Samuel there.

What about the probable reality of that blessed night when Mary birthed Jesus? The enclosure was likely a cave; caves are notorious for being damp, dark, and cold. Animals are smelly and restless in the presence of strangers. The hay in the trough has been nibbled by cud-chewing cows. With a bright star illuminating the town, one wonders how much sleep anyone was getting. Mary had been traveling on foot or on a donkey, not the best way to stay neat, and she had just given birth without benefit of pain medicine or clean linen. Joseph had no access to a barber. And baby Jesus? Babies cry; that’s how they expand their lungs at birth. Fully God, absolutely. But also, fully man, with all that human babies encompass.

To get an up-close and personal view of the nativity, a trip to present day Bethlehem answers every question, right? Hardly. Bethlehem is located five miles southwest of Jerusalem. It is now Palestinian territory, which means a visit is only possible if political relations are stable—which often is not the case. Today, the Muslim and Christian population of 25,000 makes it more modern city than quaint village. Although streets are more on the narrow side, they accommodate cars and busses that carry hordes of tourists past restaurants, gift shops, and businesses.  

Atop the reputed site of Jesus’ stable/cave birthplace is The Church of The Nativity, a Byzantine basilica. Constantine built the original version in 333 AD. The imposing stone structure gives no indication that a stable ever shared the same space. As with all ancient sites, “tradition” is emphasized more than verifiable fact, although writings dating as far back as the 100s AD believed this location is the real deal. Once inside the church, a flight of stairs clogged with other pilgrims and the merely curious lead downward. The place that guides say, “marks the very spot of his delivery,” is not the stuff of imagination. The opening to a small cave is squared off, draped with ornate red brocade fabric, and surrounded by an intricate gold screen. In the front on stone flooring there is an indentation where one is told, “this is the place of the manger.”  It is marked by a silver star put there in 1717 AD.

There are as many reactions to visiting Bethlehem in the twenty-first century as there are people visiting. Some walk silently past the grotto. There is jostling in the crowded space to get up close and touch the spot. Eyes close. Tears flow. Poses are struck. Selfies are taken. Reverence and apostacy battle side by side. Not exactly the highly spiritual experience a believer anticipates.

But as important as Bethlehem is, it’s also important that it not become the thing that is worshipped, an idol to believers or simply part of the historical secular experience. This writer has been blessed to visit the manger twice. The experience, while awesome from the perspective of standing on holy ground, didn’t rock my world as anticipated. On the first visit, it left feelings of confusion and inadequacy. Why didn’t the place of my Savior’s birth bring soaring joy, gratitude, and peace to my soul?

Prayer brought answers. It’s not the place. It’s the Person who brings soaring joy, gratitude, and peace to every soul. The reality of Christmas is the fulfillment of ancient prophecies about the coming of the true Messiah, such as:

Prophecy, Isaiah 7:14

“Therefore, the Lord himself will give you a sign: the virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Emmanuel.”

Fulfillment, Luke 1:35

“The angel answered, ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God.’”

That God was willing to come to us in a sinful, violent world, clothed in flesh and delivered in a stable, is hard to even grasp. That this tiny, fragile infant would grow to be a man who would end his human life in a sinful, violent world stripped of flesh on a cross, is even more astounding. It could have happened in any town. But to fulfill Scripture, Bethlehem is where baby Jesus uttered his first cry.

Regardless of the physical atmosphere in Bethlehem that night so long ago, we know there had to be a quiet, spiritual stillness in anticipation of Emmanuel’s birth. God with us. Savior. Friend. The world held its collective breath as darkness hovered over humanity. Until the silence was broken. By a baby’s cry. The angels’ chorus. Shepherds’ praise. And the darkness fled as the Light of God took his rightful place with his people.

Oh, little town of Bethlehem. In thy dark streets still shineth the everlasting light. The hopes and fears of all the years are met in you from that holy night and forevermore.