As Christmas approaches, our thoughts turn to Bethlehem, where our Messiah was born. I decided this was a good time to reflect on our visit to Bethlehem earlier this year. My mother-in-law, Bea, was with us and foot the bill for our expensive taxi ride. We appreciate her helping us see some sites, including Bethlehem, that we would not have been able to visit otherwise. (Since we operate on a fixed budget when we work overseas, we have to carefully monitor our finances, and we do not do a lot of sightseeing that requires a lot of additional funds.) I hope you enjoy reading this blog article: my analysis of Beit Lechem - then and now. Merry Christmas!!!
“Oh little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie…” This traditional Christmas carol evokes soothing images of stillness, peace and rest. The song makes me think of a Thomas Kinkade painting depicting a quaint little Bavarian-style village. Warm light spills from the windows of cozy cottages, beckoning weary travelers, inviting them to be refreshed by the serenity of a perfect world.
In reality, the modern town of Bethlehem has little tranquility to offer. Currently, Bethlehem is a town politically divided. The population of 30,000 is a blend of ethnicities and religions, with Palestinian Muslims now taking the population lead. The constantly shifting political atmosphere produces an unstable environment in Bethlehem. No one – regardless of ethnicity or religion – is insured a safe haven in the not-so-little town of Bethlehem.
Even when Jesus was born, Bethlehem’s inhabitants probably did not live with a sense of perfect security. After all, Herod, an unpredictable and paranoid madman, ruled over their lives. He didn’t flinch at ordering the slaughter of children in Bethlehem two years and younger, in his attempt to destroy Jesus.
Like most of Israel, the buildings are constructed of stone, close together, in a peg-leg style along the sides of hills. And like many ancient biblical cities, Bethlehem sits atop a winding ridge. It is hilly country, green enough for shepherds to keep their flocks supplied with adequate pasture. Bethlehem is a mere five miles south of Jerusalem. In biblical times, it was within the boundary of the tribe of Judah.
What English-speaking people call Bethlehem is Beit Lechem in Hebrew. It means “House of Bread.” The Arabic pronunciation is similar – Bet Lahm – and it translates to mean “House of Meat.” In the Bible, “bread” and “meat” are often generic words that simply mean “food.” Simply, the overall meaning of Bethlehem is “House of Food” with an unstated special reference to grain and bread. An example of Bethlehem’s grain industry is seen in Ruth 1:22. Ruth and Naomi arrived in Bethlehem in “the beginning of barley harvest.”
Bethlehem was also called Ephrath (Ge 35:16,19; 48:7), Ephratah (Ruth 4:11), Bethlehem Ephratah (Micah 5:2), Bethlehemjudah (Judges 17:7-9; 19:1-18; Ruth 1:1-2; I Samuel 17:12), and the City of David (Luke 2:4,11).
I suppose my visit to Bethlehem was a bit jaded from the start. I wanted to visit the town but I had repeatedly been told that Bethlehem was not the dreamy town of manger scenes and cute Christmas plays. Not only is this historic town rife with political dissent, it is also monopolized by religious groups who cater to tourists’ inclination to gravitate to sacred and supposedly-sacred places. Tourists, Christian clerics, Arab merchants, and taxi drivers all make for quite a colorful – and slightly chaotic – crowd.
Since Jewish rental cars cannot be driven into this Palestinian-controlled area, my mother-in-law hired a taxi to take us to Bethlehem. Our pass through the Bethlehem checkpoint was a breeze, thanks to our taxi driver and checkpoint personnel who took one quick glance at us and decided we did not look too threatening. Once in Bethlehem, our taxi driver pulled up to a hotel, not our destination. Turns out he thinks we need a guide…one of his friends. We don’t want one but it takes a while to convince them of our decision.
Manger Square is dominated on one side by the Mosque of Omar and on the other side by the unembellished Church of the Nativity. This church is a hodge-podge blend of architecture. Three different religious orders are allocated space in this building: the Greek Orthodox Church, the Roman Catholic Church, and the Armenian Orthodox Church. We bent low as we entered through the undersized door of the threshold. The dimly lit, stone-lined central room was supported by Corinthian columns and adorned with various religious icons, wall murals, and garish chandeliers.
A long line had formed to the right. An unofficial Arab guide approached us and told us that the people were waiting their turn to view the traditional place of Jesus’ birth. He forcefully offered to help us, and we soon learned that he was skilled at edging his way into the crowd. It was not our idea of making friends and influencing people. But by this time we were committed, so we followed him as he wormed his way into the mass of tourists. It reminded me of public grade school children cutting into a long lunch line, eager to get their favorite government-issued meal.
Rather than a slice of pizza or sloppy Joes, however, everyone was eager to view the place where Helena declared that Mary had given birth to Jesus. With our “guide” beside us, we merged into the crowd, following a group of men in black suits; I assume they were monks. At one point they broke into singing, in Latin, I presume. After inching through a narrow hallway, where wax from overhead candles dripped onto one of my favorite sweaters, we reached our destination.
Over a grotto that is under the jurisdiction of the Greek Orthodox Church, a 14-pointed star adorns the marble floor of a dimly lit altar. No one seems to know why there are 14 points on the star, but the most plausible explanation is that the number 14 represents the 14 generations between Abraham and David, as well as the 14 generations between David and Jesus. At this place that allegedly marks Baby Jesus’ delivery room, people bent to kiss the star on the floor. We declined the kissing procedure, preferring to simply pause briefly to view the décor and engage in some people watching.
Several notable Bible figures – Rachel, Ruth, and David – have connections to Bethlehem.
Rachel was Jacob’s beloved wife. She was buried near Bethlehem (Genesis 35:19; 48:7). A tomb commemorates her death and women go there to pray for safe pregnancies.
Ruth, a woman from the land of Moab, married a man from Bethlehem who had moved to her land with his mother, father, and brother to escape a famine in the land of Judah. Ruth’s husband died and she traveled to Bethlehem with her mother-in-law Naomi, who had also become a widow. It was in Bethlehem that Ruth married another Bethlehem native, Boaz. Ruth and Boaz were David’s grandparents. Ruth and Boaz are also listed in the genealogical account of Joseph, Mary’s husband. Since genealogical records were not kept for women, but men only, this provides a legal record of Jesus’ earthly ancestral line (Ruth 1:1-22; 4:13; Matthew 1:5; Luke 2:4; John 7:42).
Bethlehem was David’s hometown. It was here that he was anointed king by the prophet Samuel. It was on the hills of Bethlehem that he guarded his father’s sheep, cultivated his ability to use a sling, and killed a bear and a lion to protect the sheep. Samuel, at the command of the Lord, traveled to Bethlehem to anoint David king of Israel (I Samuel 16:1-13).
One of the more interesting sites in Bethlehem is one of the most obscure. King David’s Wells are three cisterns that were discovered in 1895. They are surrounded by a low metal gate. Since we did not know that the wells could be reached by walking just a short distance from Manger Square, we opted for the long way. (That seems to be our trend, since we serve as our own tour guide!) We climbed up an entire hillside of steps, hurrying since the taxi driver was waiting for us. The wells, which were located on the property of a Catholic school, were deserted. We opened the unlocked gate and let ourselves into the site.
Why are these wells significant? Even though it is unknown if these wells have a biblical connection, it is tempting to imagine heroes from David’s army furtively drawing water from them.
When David was in hiding, trying to preserve his life from Saul’s wrath, he longed out loud for a drink of water from Bethlehem’s well: “Oh that one would give me drink of the water of the well of Bethlehem, which is by the gate!” Then as now, Bethlehem was a city in conflict. The Philistines had invaded the area and taken control of David’s hometown, turning it into a battle zone. Three of David’s loyal warriors broke through the enemy lines and brought David precious water from the well. David was so overwhelmed by the loyalty and courage of these mighty men, he poured the water out onto the ground (II Samuel 23:14-17; I Chronicles 11:16-19).
