Prepared by traditional Christmas carols such as "O Little Town of Bethlehem" and "Silent Night," I anticipated a simple monument dedicated to those who wanted to imagine and give thanks for the humble beginning of the life of the Savior. Well, the Church of the Nativity was anything but simple. To begin with, it is owned by three different churches, who fight over rights to give tours and hold services and determine how maintenance and repairs will be conducted. (Their inability to work together has left them at a standstill in the fight over repair of a dangerously rotting roof in the Church of the Nativity.) The large cathedral built directly over the site of the stable was adorned with hundreds of lamps and incense balls as well as paintings, silk hangings, and the extravagantly decorated iconostasis.
It seems strange to adorn in gold and jewels a simple cave (as historians agree the "stable" really was) that marked the most humble birthplace of the baby Jesus. It seems out of place to think of donkeys and sheep and a manger full of straw in such an extravagant place.
We descended down under the main floor to the cave room containing the birthplace of Jesus. Once again, I found myself struggling to picture a baby being born to a poor young couple here:
During our tour guide's explanations, Lily decided to scoff at the line in our popular carol "Away in a manger...no crying he makes" and she let loose with a small screaming session. Although I didn't feel particularly overwhlemed by the Spirit yet, the holiness of the setting, and some prodding from my mom helped me realize that this was not the place to let Lily cry it out. After a few minutes to trying to calm her down, I finally gave up modest methods and retreated to a far corner of the "cave" and sat down on the marble tiled floor and began to nurse Lily.
From that unconventional seat, with my tiny little newborn sucking away, I suddenly got a different view of the place we were visiting. This was not just the site of Jesus's birth, but also the site of Mary's first attempts to nurse her newborn baby. And of their first night spent together. And Jesus' first dirty diaper (swaddling clothes). Because Jesus was a mortal baby, born to a mortal mother, Mary. And there's nothing like nursing to make you feel especially vulnerable and mortal. And awed by the human female body's ability to feed her child and to conceive, carry, and birth a child. And awed by the responsibility and gift it is to be a parent.
And so it was, in the decorated corner near the Birthplace of Jesus, I shed a tear or two of happiness. For motherhood. For Mary. But most especially for Jesus, the Savior of the World. And for my own sweet little newborn.
From that unconventional seat, with my tiny little newborn sucking away, I suddenly got a different view of the place we were visiting. This was not just the site of Jesus's birth, but also the site of Mary's first attempts to nurse her newborn baby. And of their first night spent together. And Jesus' first dirty diaper (swaddling clothes). Because Jesus was a mortal baby, born to a mortal mother, Mary. And there's nothing like nursing to make you feel especially vulnerable and mortal. And awed by the human female body's ability to feed her child and to conceive, carry, and birth a child. And awed by the responsibility and gift it is to be a parent.
And so it was, in the decorated corner near the Birthplace of Jesus, I shed a tear or two of happiness. For motherhood. For Mary. But most especially for Jesus, the Savior of the World. And for my own sweet little newborn.
For more Bethlehem details, go here.
6 comments:
Oh Janel, You said that so beautifully. I'm throughly enjoying the daily updates, including your links to other family's blogs. I can't stand it that Danielle's not there yet, as I'm sure the rest of you, herself most especially can't either. I hope she gets there this time. And I'm glad to see that the rest of you are still enjoying the trip. Just keep nursing that baby and sharing those feelings!
Ok, now you got me crying! What a cool impromtu experience. We recently saw a show about that cathedral and how it came to be- did you know the original building on the spot was built by pagan preists to keep the Christian's from coming to worship at the cave? Then Christians regained ownership and added to it, then added more, and then more and suddenly it's a huge gawdy thing. It's so cool that you get to be there! And thanks for letting us live it through you- I'm loving all the updates.
That was lovely, Janel. It made the visit all the better for me just to hear you describe it. --Mom
What a profound moment, nursing your own baby where Mary nursed Baby Jesus. And how true about nursing so typifying the tenderness and vulnerability of motherhood.
I think it't wonderful to think of Mary (very young and mortal Mary) trying to nurse and take on motherhood. Pretty neat that you were able to nurse your own newborn there and experience those feelings.
You turned Mary into a real person for me (after I stopped crying like a little girl). I mean poor woman trying to learn to breast feed, visitor popping in. Bless your insight and wonderful writing style.
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