I WISH I HAD BEEN THERE. IN
BETHLEHEM.
I wish I had been there. In Bethlehem.
I wish I had witnessed the birth of the
baby Jesus in that humble setting in a lowly manger. Was it really as
cold that night as it is sometimes depicted on our Christmas cards or
was it a cool and comfortable evening as it is predicted to be this year
in Bethlehem?
I wish I could have seen firsthand Mary’s
face as she looked lovingly at her new baby and that I could have asked
her if she knew how much her life was going to change. Did she really
understand what God had wrought? And Joseph. Poor simple Joseph. What
must have been going through his mind? He was in Bethlehem only because
he was required to register for the census as decreed by Caesar
Augustus. I wish I could have talked to both Mary and Joseph and see
what they had to say about that night.
I wish I could have seen the star that
guided people to the manger. Like everyone else that evening, I am sure
I would have been stupefied and afraid, even though angels said not to
be. I think even hearing from the angels would have scared me. God’s
power is awesome and He showed it that night.
I wish I could have observed the
shepherds as they came pouring into Bethlehem and headed for the manger
to see for themselves what the angels had proclaimed to them in the
hills where they were tending their flocks. What did this rough-hewn
bunch think when they saw that little baby? The Bible says they went
back and told others what they had seen. I wish I could have heard what
they said about what they had seen. Shepherding was probably never the
same for them after that night.
I wish I could have been there when the
Magi arrived. That must have been quite an event in Bethlehem when these
three kings from the East appeared to pay homage to the little baby and
to present him with gifts of gold and myrrh and frankincense. Why those
three particular gifts? I am sure the gold had some practical
application and frankincense probably helped sweeten the air around the
stables, but myrrh? Did anyone see the irony in the fact that myrrh
would be one of the spices that would be offered to Jesus at his
crucifixion to dull the pain of the nails and the crown of thorns and
later would be used to prepare his body for burial? Was this a sign of
things to come? God’s ways are mysterious.
I wish I could have talked to the other
people in Bethlehem who were there to register for the census along with
Mary and Joseph and try to explain to them that a child had been born in
their midst that would forever change history. I am not sure they would
have believed me if I could have gotten them to listen. Anyway, they
probably had no interest in what was going on in town. They just wanted
to get out of Bethlehem and back home so that they could get on with
their lives.
I wish I could figure out what has
happened to us Christians since that fateful night in Bethlehem 2,000
years ago. Where is our awe? Where is our reverence? Where is our
wonderment? Why have we allowed the birth of our Savior to morph into
cocktail parties, Black Fridays, Santa Claus and gaudy light displays?
Why did we permit this sacred event to be high jacked by retailers who
make money off of our holy day, but don’t allow the term “Merry
Christmas” to be uttered, printed or acknowledged lest they offend
someone? And we go along with it as though it doesn’t matter? Shame on
us.
This is why I wish I had been there. I
wish we all had been there. In Bethlehem. With Mary and Joseph and the
babe. With the shepherds. With the angels. With the Magi. Maybe if we
had seen these things for ourselves, then we would understand how
special Christmas really is.
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