For unto you is born this day in the city of David a savior, who is Christ the Lord (Luke 2:11 ESV)
The task of cleaning up after Christmas is enough to put anyone in a foul mood. We do our best around our house to maintain order as we go, promptly placing tattered wrapping paper in a trash bags as we open gifts, running the dishwasher in a timely way and thus keeping the sink empty. We’ve done a fairly respectable job so far – but keep in mind the kids are home all day every day for two weeks. Our place doesn’t just look lived in, it truly is lived in. Someone has to take on the job of tidying up, and that job isn’t easy. It elicits snippity remarks and barked-out orders and resentments about help not given and being taken for granted.
If that’s true around here, imagine trying to restore order to the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem after hordes of tourists have traipsed through the place. Maybe we can understand the frustration that erupted on Thursday when priests who were cleaning and scrubbing came to blows with each other. The Christmas contingent had probably left the place in bad shape, and the Orthodox crowds have yet to come since they celebrate the birth of Jesus in early January. So maybe we can understand why these followers of Jesus who tend the supposed site of his birth reached the point of striking each other with their fists and with brooms and whatever they could find. But then again . . .
There's something appalling about what we’ve done to that place, carving it up along the lines of our differences, becoming possessive and defensive, like kid brothers who have to share a room and draw a line down the middle to mark their territory. And of all places . . . the site of the birth of Jesus, Prince of Peace. The image of priests fighting each other at the birth place of the one who sharply rebuked sword wielding ways in those who would follow him is pathetic. It’s laughable and embarrassing.
And at the same time, the fighting among the priests in Bethlehem speaks to the whole point of the Christmas story; it exposes what is at the core of the incarnation. Defensive priests and all broken families the world over are uncomfortable reminders of our need for a savior. The mending we need is beyond us. We don’t need religious observances or pilgrimages to holy sites or noble principles and ideas. We need a savior. At Bethlehem, that’s exactly what God gave us.
The task of cleaning up after Christmas is enough to put anyone in a foul mood. We do our best around our house to maintain order as we go, promptly placing tattered wrapping paper in a trash bags as we open gifts, running the dishwasher in a timely way and thus keeping the sink empty. We’ve done a fairly respectable job so far – but keep in mind the kids are home all day every day for two weeks. Our place doesn’t just look lived in, it truly is lived in. Someone has to take on the job of tidying up, and that job isn’t easy. It elicits snippity remarks and barked-out orders and resentments about help not given and being taken for granted.
If that’s true around here, imagine trying to restore order to the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem after hordes of tourists have traipsed through the place. Maybe we can understand the frustration that erupted on Thursday when priests who were cleaning and scrubbing came to blows with each other. The Christmas contingent had probably left the place in bad shape, and the Orthodox crowds have yet to come since they celebrate the birth of Jesus in early January. So maybe we can understand why these followers of Jesus who tend the supposed site of his birth reached the point of striking each other with their fists and with brooms and whatever they could find. But then again . . .
There's something appalling about what we’ve done to that place, carving it up along the lines of our differences, becoming possessive and defensive, like kid brothers who have to share a room and draw a line down the middle to mark their territory. And of all places . . . the site of the birth of Jesus, Prince of Peace. The image of priests fighting each other at the birth place of the one who sharply rebuked sword wielding ways in those who would follow him is pathetic. It’s laughable and embarrassing.
And at the same time, the fighting among the priests in Bethlehem speaks to the whole point of the Christmas story; it exposes what is at the core of the incarnation. Defensive priests and all broken families the world over are uncomfortable reminders of our need for a savior. The mending we need is beyond us. We don’t need religious observances or pilgrimages to holy sites or noble principles and ideas. We need a savior. At Bethlehem, that’s exactly what God gave us.
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