I had the happy occasion to visit the Holy Land with my seminary class, and we were able to spend Christmas - actually the entire month of December - living in the little town of Bethlehem. When we first arrived, one of my classmates learned that Mass was offered each day at 5 am at the little grotto, or cave, that is venerated as the place where Christ was born. This classmate convinced me to accompany him in the first few days that we were there. We usually had leave at about 4:45 am, in the pitch dark. Our footsteps echoed on the cobbled roads as we walked to the church while the town was still asleep. My classmate went most days, but not always, so several mornings I made the trek on my own. I have to admit, at the time I sometimes wondered why I was doing it, as I hustled through the dark streets. Yet looking back, those trips have left me with some of my fondest memories of Bethlehem.
Kneeling there each morning as a Franciscan priest celebrated Mass (usually in Italian), it was something to consider that the holy place where we knelt was venerated as the holy place where Mary and Joseph once knelt with the Christ child; and where Jesus was still present, but under the appearances of bread and wine.
The lesson about the Church of the Nativity which surrounds the grotto definitely made an impression on me. When one stands outside and looks at the building that was erected by the Emperor Constantine (around 326 AD), it is possible to see the various modifications that have been made over time by the different color of stones. One can see what once was an entrance (though it no longer is) which over time has become smaller and smaller, and now consists of only a narrow doorway. To enter the grotto, one needs to watch their head as they descend down the stairs. Back in time, as we were told, it wasn’t unusual that a nobleman or a knight may have thought it beneath his dignity to dismount from his horse in order to visit the holy place, and so he would attempt to ride into the church. With visitors such as that, and also for safety from invaders and infidels, the doorway was made very small – one has to nearly fold themselves in half in order to enter. As the priest who was with us told us the first day, one has to be willing to humble themselves in order to enter.
As we ponder the different figures that make up our nativity scenes, and consider those who first came out to visit the newborn Child, isn’t it true that it was the humble who found their way there. It’s the humble who have the privilege of finding the little Jesus.
There were very few souvenirs that I brought back with me from my time there, but one that I did bring back, which has become a favorite, is a picture of the Prince of Peace sitting on a little throne. Jesus wasn’t given much of a throne that first Christmas as he was laid in a manger, but hopefully he finds one now, in the hearts and homes of each one of us.
May the Prince of Peace shower you and yours with his joy and love this Christmas!