Thoughts on Bethlehem

This summer I spent some time in Bethlehem, Israel - not Pennsylvania! I was struck by many different thoughts and emotions as I walked the streets of this ancient town. During this Christmas season, I tried to capture some thoughts in a poem. 

Bethlehem

O Little Town of Bethlehem
How much you must have changed
A once obscure and quiet place
Not many knew your name

Then one year a census called
Come children far and near
Come back to where your families grew
Come celebrate this year

So many came to Bethlehem
Including one strange pair
A carpenter, a pregnant girl
Yet few knew they were there

"No room", "move on", "go somewhere else"
Rejection was their fare
No one understood their plight
And no one seemed to care

Then . . . .

A baby’s cry broke through the night
An angel shouting joy
O little town of Bethlehem
You birthed a baby boy

In that night so much had changed
For Bethlehem the town
From now on, the world would know,
The name , the place, the sounds

Two thousand years have come and gone
And Bethlehem’s still known
But few see what is really there
Behind the walls of stone

This town that once declared no room
To the Savior that was born
Now finds itself rejected too
Lives broken, shattered, torn

No census now is needed,
They come to see and hear
The baby’s birth, no longer hushed
Draws thousands far and near

Yet in the midst of everything
Rejection fills the air
No one understands their plight
And no one seems to care

O little town of Bethlehem
The one Who knows you best
The baby boy, the savior - king
He is your peace and rest

While all the world ignores you now
As once you did to Him
Jesus sees and hears you
Come to Him and Live

Celebrating - in the Dark

I am meditating quite a bit these days on what it means to celebrate in the midst of dark times. This morning, I woke up in a bit of a "funk" - disturbing dreams, not a very positive outlook for Christmas (my Mom will most likely be in a nursing home for rehab) and just basically a continual downward spiral in my life that has been taking place the last 18 months. I realized quickly I needed to be reminded of some truths in the dark. A good friend challenged me last night to take the celebration of Christmas to the nursing home where my Mom is - don't allow the circumstances to dampen the celebration. I started thinking about Mary - and what this happy occasion looked like to her . . I'm not sure what is worse, celebrating Jesus birth in  a nasty, smelly stable/cave or in a nursing home (actually, we probably do know the answer to that).  Then I got to thinking about a conversation I had with one of my Bosnian friends whose daughter was born in the midst of the siege on Sarajevo. During the birth there was no running water, so her husband had to take buckets to a water source and bring them back to clean both her and baby up after the birth. She told me that even though people had very little food and shells were being fired into the city daily - some of her friends managed to secure a chocolate bar and a few other little gifts to bring to her to celebrate her daughter's birth. Wow - I really needed that reminder . . . I can certainly find ways to celebrate this holiday in the midst of these dark days.  So, off I go gathering both physical expressions as well as some emotional strength to celebrate Jesus' birthday in the dark . . . think I'll buy a few candles! 

Through the Eyes of a Child

Trying to get back into the swing of things here . . . 

Last night I went to see the movie Boy in the Striped Pajamas - it is a powerful portrayal of the simplicity of a pure relationship, unhindered by prejudice - until the adults stepped in.  There are times when I think Heads of States would be better off if they took time to remind themselves of simple truths that most children understand before they are taught to be prejudice. I have recently befriended a wonderful woman from Iran who is teaching me Farsi. She comments to me every time I visit her that she does not understand why I am nice to her - that her experience here in America has been that of being ignored,  shunned and pushed away as soon as she says she is from Iran. What a tragedy - I actually understand a bit of how she feels . . you see, several years ago - actually it was right after the American troops went into Iraq . . . I was visiting Brussels, Belgium. We were out in the main square with a group from the Discipleship Training School there and an older man, dressed in a suit walked up to me - after I greeted him, he asked " Are you from America?" - I said, "Yes, I am" - He angrily proclaimed that America should leave Iraq and that I should go home- then he vehemently SPIT on my shoe.  I was taken back to say the least . . .  yet,  I am thankful for that experience - I know that in my heart, I wanted to say to that man - "WAIT, you don't even know me . . . WAIT, please don't judge me so quickly . . . WAIT . . .  

My Iranian friend echoes those thoughts . . . the boy in the striped pajamas echoes those thoughts - I pray that I will always remember how I felt being judged so quickly and that I will always WAIT before I pass judgement on others.