Have I allowed myself to be a Bethlehem?

It’s Christmas Eve, and it’s a quiet morning. For many years, quiet and Christmas didn’t go together. We are in a different season now: it’s quiet, which gives me time to ponder.

When the kids were young, there were programs and adventures.  We never emphasized getting at Christmas time; we focused more on the giving. That meant we did  “visitation Saturday,” the Saturday before Christmas, where we spent the day visiting people, and the last ones on our schedule got to eat supper with us.  As a slightly musical family, we inserted caroling into the mix.

One of my favorite Christmas hymns, “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” always seemed like a mysterious song. The composer of the hymn, Phillip Brooks, wrote this in the mid-1800s after spending time on a pilgrimage to Bethlehem. He writes, “Before dark, we rode out of town to the field where they say the shepherds saw the star. It is a fenced piece of ground with a cave in it, in which, strangely enough, they put the shepherds. . . . Somewhere in those fields we rode through, the shepherds must have been. As we passed, the shepherds were still ‘keeping watch over their flocks,’ or leading them home to fold.”  (Discipleship Ministries | History of Hymns: “O Little Town of…)That experience led to the writing of the hymn we know and love.

Bethlehem,  whose definition means” house of bread,” is also known as Ephrathah,  which means “fruitful.” David was born to the clan within the tribe of Judah, as we read in 1 Samuel 17:12. Almost 50 times, Bethlehem is mentioned in the Bible. It was central to King David, the hometown of Ruth,  and Micah 5:1-2 introduces its most important mission.  Yet, what did Bethlehem do for centuries before its primal mission? It waited. She didn’t waste her waiting. She was doing everyday life. The slopes of Bethlehem harvested wheat and barley. These sloping hills also gave way to vineyards. It was a small city waiting for a big promise. Bethlehem didn’t seem to hold its breath, waiting for the prophecy to be fulfilled, but it was ready. It didn’t waste the waiting moments. It was living life, waiting for the Messiah, but it was fruitful and abundant.

The early morning quiet on Christmas Eve gives me lots to think about. I have allowed for many things. Though two of our kids and grandkids will be thousands of miles away, we will have people over to celebrate today and tomorrow. I have the list of food to prepare, I have the table set, there are gifts wrapped, and I think I have everything ready, but until the time comes, I am waiting. Waiting isn’t my best suit. It’s not something I dread, but it’s not something I always embrace. Waiting sometimes seems like we are wasting time, and yet Bethlehem waited, ready and prepared, but waiting.

Have I allowed my life to be a Bethlehem for the Son of God? Am I being fruitful while God works out His plan for my life? Perhaps the things that are happening and will happen won’t be on my “top 10 things to do list.” Yet, if I am waiting, ready, being fruitful, and letting Christ live through me while waiting, God will do some amazing things, just as Bethlehem lived to its fullest, waiting for Luke 2.

 God is asking us to be a Bethlehem: prepared, open, eager, and waiting! Jesus is waiting to do amazing things if we make room for Bethlehem moments.  Bethlehem saw some incredible things happen in the waiting years. Perhaps saying no to good things will open the door for God’s best things in the waiting moments for Bethlehem to come alive in us.

O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by.
Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting light;
the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.

For Christ is born of Mary; and, gathered all above,
while mortals sleep, the angels keep their watch of wond’ring love.
O morning stars, together proclaim the holy birth,
and praises sing to God the King, and peace to men on earth.

 How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is giv’n!
So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of His heav’n.
No ear may hear His coming, but in this world of sin,
where meek souls will receive Him still, the dear Christ enters in.

 O holy Child of Bethlehem, descend to us, we pray;
cast out our sin and enter in; be born in us today.
We hear the Christmas angels, the great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us, our Lord Emmanuel!