On this final Sunday of Advent, we arrive at the place we have been traveling toward all month – Bethlehem. A few days before Mary and Joseph arrive, we stop here now in Bethlehem, to wonder at all that happened here in a place so humble and lowly.
The word Bethlehem means “house of bread,” because it was a place where grain was grown, a very basic staple that humans depend on. You might recall that the Old Testament story of Ruth takes place in Bethlehem, during the barley harvest. Ruth, the foreign woman who arrived in Bethlehem with her mother-in-law Naomi, goes out to glean in the barley fields, so that she and Naomi may eat. The law provided that everyone – the widow, the orphan, the foreigner, they were guaranteed the right to glean the fields so they might eat. They would not eat lavishly, but they would eat. In Bethlehem, the law of God provides for the least and lowliest among all.
Today, Bethlehem is a city of about 25,000, which is not that big – there are more people living in Salisbury. Bethlehem was always fairly small in size. The prophet Micah calls Bethlehem little, a name that stuck. But even then, it was foretold that the little town of Bethlehem would loom large in the imagination of the faith, as Micah said:
from you shall come forth for me
one who is to rule in Israel,
whose origin is from of old,
from ancient days.
Just outside Bethlehem there is a place called Beit Sahur, a little Palestinian town. The name comes from old Canaanite words – beit means house, sahur means nightwatch. Sometimes it is called the house of vigilance or house of dawn. This is the place where shepherds kept watch over their flocks at night. This is the place where those shepherds were visited by angels.
Shepherds, we know, did not enjoy high status. They were not among the educated class nor were they wealthy. They slept outdoors. Their closest companions were animals. They were humble, lowly.
This is the place we find ourselves, the place we have journeyed to for Christmas. We have passed through much more glamorous places – the cities of Rome and Jerusalem. But those places were not our destination. Just as they were not the destination of Mary and Joseph.
The story of our faith is a story of the small ones, the humble and the lowly that God chooses to work through. In little Bethlehem, where the immigrant Ruth found a place of welcome, a place where she could thrive and where she gave birth to a son.
In little Bethlehem, where the grandson of Ruth raised seven sons of his own, and the smallest of whom, David, was anointed by the prophet Samuel, to become king of Israel. David, who, when still a child would defeat a giant of a foe, to bring victory to Israel.
In little Bethlehem, where the people grew barley for bread, raised sheep for sacrifice, lived simple lives, close to the earth. This is the place Mary and Joseph journeyed to.
This is the place where Joseph and Mary arrived one night, exhausted from their travels, Mary frightfully close to her time of delivery. But they did not find ease, not yet. Every door on which Joseph knocked, looking for a place to rest, brought more bad news. There was no place for them in the houses of Bethlehem. Finally, they were given shelter in a stable with the farm animals.
And Mary began her labor.
You have to wonder what Mary and Joseph were thinking that night – if they were able to think much at all in that moment. While Mary’s body tensed with each contraction, so far away from her mother, from anyone who might give her comfort; while Joseph stood by her side feeling about as helpless as any father-to-be might feel in those moments. Fearful as any father-to-be might feel. Would Mary survive this? Would the child survive this?
Why, they both might have wondered, why has God put us in this place?
Every one of us has had those moments when we wondered whether God had forsaken us. Moments when we felt fear and pain, and helplessness, as Mary and Joseph must have felt that night. In these moments we may have cried out our lament, this is not the way it is supposed to be.
Mary would surely have preferred to be in her home, attended by her mother and the women she had known all her life. Joseph surely would have preferred to be back in Nazareth, amongst the men of his family, who would stand with him, celebrate with him. In Nazareth Joseph might have felt pride in this moment. But here in Bethlehem, kneeling on the dirt floor amongst the farm animals, watching his wife labor on a bed of straw, Joseph was humble, lowly.
Surely this is not the way it’s supposed to be, Joseph and Mary might have thought. We might have thought.
But once again God shows us something different.
Mary gave birth, her son was laid in the manger, safe and sound. Mary rested on her bed of straw. And in the fields outside of Bethlehem, where shepherds watched their flocks by night, the angel of the Lord appeared. The shepherds were, naturally, terrified. The angel had to say, “Do not be afraid,” as they always do, and then gave them the good news of great joy for all the people: “to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”
These shepherds, the humblest of men, were the first to hear this news. They were the first to visit the newborn child in the stable. They were the first to report to Mary and Joseph about the message they had received in the fields. And Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.
And this is the way it was.
Despite the ways we habitually return to our beliefs about how things should be, God brings us to a place like Bethlehem. Despite our insistence that we know what is honorable, that we know what glory looks like, God brings us to Bethlehem. Despite all our efforts to glam up Christmas with sparkle and shine, God brings us to a stable. God surrounds us with the animals of the fields, and the shepherds who watch over them. God brings us to the humble, lowly place where Jesus was born. Because this is God’s way.
This is where God shows up – among the humble and the lowly. There is a term for this divine mystery: God’s preferential option for the poor. We know that God’s love is infinite, but still, there is a special place in God’s heart for the poor. This is a living and breathing truth, wherever you look in the Bible, God’s heart holds a special concern for the humble and the lowly on earth, the ones who need the most.
When God came down to be with us, God chose a child of humble birth, a family of low esteem. This child would go on to live his entire life among the humble and the lowly. These are the ones he would call his friends. And one day while with these friends, some of whom had begun to think a little too well of themselves, Jesus would say to them, “The poor will always be with you.” Because if we call ourselves followers of Jesus, there is one thing we will never do: abandon the poor.
God came to a stable in Bethlehem. To a ragged little family struggling to survive. God came to the lowly and made it holy.
This is where God shows up – and this is where God wants us to be, too.
photo: ChurchArt.com
