by Marcel-Jacques Dubois
Professor Marcel-Jacques Dubois is Professor Emeritus at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, where he has been a lecturer in philosophy since 1968. He entered the Dominican order in 1938, and since 1994 is a Magister in sacra Theologia (Dominican order).
Professor Dubois is a former Consultant of the Pontifical Council for Religious Relations with Judaism, and was awarded the Legion of Honor (1985), Yakir Jerusalem (1989), and the Israel Prize (1996).
In the Christian tradition, the name Bethlehem is translated to mean "House of Bread". The Fathers of the Church have considered this interpretation more symbolic than literal, although rich with sacramental meaning. In reality, it is of pagan origin, from the house of the god Lamou, the Canaanite god.
The city is situated on a hill slanting from west to east, like a sword engraved in the Judean desert facing the Dead Sea. Historically, it was a stop for caravans on the way from Jerusalem to Egypt via Hebron.
The most realistic introduction to the significance of this city is definitely the gospel text, which summarizes the central event in the Christian faith:
Now at this time Caesar Augustus issued a decree for a census of the whole world to be taken. This census - the first - took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria, and everyone went to his own town to be registered. So Joseph set out from the town of Nazareth in Galilee and traveled up to Judea, to the town of David called Bethlehem, since he was of Davids House and line, in order to be registered together with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. While they were there, the time came for her to have her child, and she gave birth to a son, her first-born. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them at the inn.
In the countryside close by there were shepherds who lived in the fields and took it in turns to watch their flocks during the night. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them. They were terrified, but the angel said, "Do not be afraid. Listen, I bring you news of great joy, a joy to be shared by the whole people. Today in the town of David a savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. And here is a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger." And suddenly with the angel there was a great throng of the heavenly host, praising God and singing, "Glory to God in the highest heaven, and peace to men who enjoy his favor."
Now when the angels had gone form them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let us go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us." So they hurried away and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in the manger. When they saw the child, they repeated what they had been told about him, and everyone who heard it was astonished at what the shepherds had to say. As for Mary, she treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart. And the shepherds when back glorifying and praising God for all they heard and seen: it was exactly as they had been told.
(Luke. 2:1-20)
When reading this text, one cannot but be struck by the paradoxical and actually mysterious juxtaposition of the greatness and humility, the majesty and nobility of Davids kingship, which is from Bethlehem, of the humility in wandering and of the destitution and exhaustion of the young couple seeking shelter for their newborn in a country stable.
Bethlehem is in fact the city of David. It is in Bethlehem where Ruth the foreigner meets Boaz, becomes his wife and the mother of Obed, father of Jesse, father of David (Ruth 4:13-22). It is in Bethlehem that Samuel selects David from among his brothers and anoints him as King of Israel. It is Bethlehem, his place of birth, to which Joseph, of the house and lineage of David, returns for the census.
The birth of Jesus in Bethlehem is mentioned by the prophet Micah: But you, O Bethlehem Ephrata, who are little to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel. (Micah 5:2) However it is not in a royal palace that Joseph and Mary find refuge that night. The ancient city was constructed upon the slope of a hill, and on the incline were numerous homes. Generally, the front was of stone and closed the entrance to a cave - the rear of the house. Many dwellings of this type can still be found in Bethlehem and in Beit Sahour, the village of the shepherds, to the east.
Jesus comes into the world in one of these caves because there was no room for him at the inn, in the front of the house. Joseph and Mary find shelter in the cave, at the back of such a dwelling. The sheep made their abode in these natural caves, which were for them like stables. Their food could be laid out in a hole in the rock face. It is in such a crevice that the young mother placed her child. Such is the setting of the first Christmas. Christian art has reproduced the scene in many ways, which have become familiar to us: the donkey, the ox, the sheep and the shepherds encircling the holy family.
On the cave authenticated by Saint Justin, Saint Helena, in 326, constructed one of the most impressive basilicas in the Middle East. Built on a small square that became the atrium, there are four rows of Corinthian columns forming five naves and a mosaic-decorated base still visible some fifty centimeters below the present ground floor. The raising of the lower level is from the Justinian period (527-565). He had the ancient edifice restored and transformed by adding three apses, one to the side and two on the transept.
The basilica escaped destruction by the Persians in 614, as they believed to recognize their ancestors in the Magi portrayed on the façade. The Crusaders were happy to reinforce and fortify the building. The original front has almost entirely disappeared except for the faint sign of overhanging lintels from the Byzantine period and the lancet arch of a Crusader door, boarded up by the Mamluks in the 14th century. The only remainder is a low doorway that can be entered only by bending down. Some say that this was to prevent entry on horseback.
The mosaics on the walls of the main nave call to mind the principle Councils (to the south, the Seventh Ecumenical Council and to the north, the Six Regional Councils). The mosaics and paintings are from the 12th century.
One descends into the cave via one of the stairways on the side of the choir. Beneath the altar is a silver star placed on the traditional spot of the place of Christs birth, reminding of the mysterious event at the origins of the Christian faith: Hic de Maria Virgine, Jesus Christus natus est. Aside from frequently noisy visits by pilgrim groups, one is necessarily touched by the silence of the faithful who gather here.
The cave is only one section of the subterranean network accessed through the back of the Latin church of Saint Catherine. There we venerate the memory of the innocent Saints, in particular that of Saint Jerome, to whom a chapel is dedicated, next to his grave. Saint Jerome in fact lived in Bethlehem from 384 to 420. He had come in order to translate the Hebrew Scriptures and so the enormous enterprise called the Vulgate was born in Bethlehem. Bethlehem is therefore regarded as a center of Biblical studies and of hearing the Word of God, and numerous groups of men and women as well as study centers have made their home in Bethlehem since. There are at least fifteen monasteries in the immediate vicinity. May we note in particular the most recently founded Tantur Ecumenical Institute, the interdenominational research center for promoting a joint study of scriptural sources in the surroundings of the important sites connected to the history of salvation.
In the countryside, a few kilometers to the east of Bethlehem, there is a modern chapel named Shepherds Field. It was built close to the ruins of a Byzantine monastery. Its rustic character reminds one of the first Christmas. A cave that probably was once a home, easily calls to mind the angels visit to the shepherds on Christmas Eve. Pilgrims delight in it as a gathering place.
The most disconcerting experience in the perception of time in the Holy Land is undoubtedly found in the diversity of calendars in use. In spite of an agreement - a practical necessity - on the dates of the civil calendar for social life, administration and business, Jews, Christians and Muslims are not synchronized with respect to the rhythm of their religious life.
The rhythms of the Christian communities are also not synchronized. Greeks, Latins and Armenians all have different calendars, which gives Bethlehem and Jerusalem, especially at Christmas and Easter, a festive appearance that is quite extraordinary.
From the end of December to the end of January, Bethlehem and Jerusalem are so lit up that each evening they give the appearance of festival cities. The superimposition of the calendars has the curious consequence of a whole succession of Christmas festivities. The various Churches, each according to its own ritual, take up as in a relay, the celebration of the mystery of the Incarnation. The Latins begin with Vespers on December 24th, and while they are celebrating Epiphany on January 6th, the Orthodox Churches are keeping their feast of the Saviors birth. Then comes the turn of the Armenians to celebrate, with their own ritual, the three mysteries of the nativity, the Adoration of the Magi and the Baptism.
One might deplore this division in the expression of faith in the same mystery. But one must also emphasize the paradoxical benefit that springs from the diversity of tradition and ritual in the various celebrations.
It is often said that Israel is a country of contrasts. This is indeed true in many respects. And the mystery of Bethlehem presents to the Christian living here, one of the most striking contrasts of all.
This Jesus, whose birth we celebrate, is a Jewish child. The Jewish people, in the midst of whom I live, are those who gave Jesus to the world. The contrast here is that of a simultaneously close proximity as well as of distance. Looking around me at all the faces, in observing the fervor with which they live their daily lives in observance and prayer, in hearing and singing the Psalms and in commenting on the Torah I cannot but think of Jesus living in this same framework and familiar with this rhythm of life. And I cannot but feel infinitely close to this people who remind me, by their very existence, of the reality of the Incarnation.
However, at the same time I cannot but feel the wide gap that separates myself from my Jewish friends; a gap caused by a difference in the very heart of our most central convictions. I believe that Jesus, son of David, is the Son of God. Those around me do not believe in the Incarnation. For centuries, people have despised, confronted and avoided each other in the name of this difference in belief. Furthermore, the joy of Christmas is marked by a certain seriousness, perhaps more in Bethlehem than anywhere else. We have learned, or we are beginning to learn without hate and prejudice, to recognize this difference. This cannot but cause us suffering. Nevertheless, we endure it at present, with respect and trust. In this regard, above and in spite of the contrasts, Bethlehem is an important place of hope. Hope in a peace that unifies on this earth men of good will, the focus of divine kindness, as sung by the angels of Christmas. Hope of peace is based on this certainty.