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| Sunday, 22 December 2002 |
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Features |  |
| News Business Features Editorial
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The Grotto of the Nativity in Bethlehem : Seeing history upfront by KAREL ROBERTS RATNAWEERA There is one place on earth where it is Christmas everyday - Bethlehem.
It was nowhere near Christmas when this writer had the good fortune of
visiting the birthplace of Jesus Christ with a group of Christian Sri
Lankans I had managed to join after several hassles with the Immigration
department as I did not have a baptismal certificate which was mandatory
for the pilgrimage to the Holy Land. But luck was on my side; strings were
pulled by some people with influence We passed the Shepherd's Field where the men, watching their flocks by night, saw the star that stopped in its tracks over Bethlehem, and the Angel of the Lord Came Down and eased their troubled minds - for they were so afraid. We looked down as the bus climbed into the hills of Judea and saw the tents of the Bedouin nomads, just as they might have been two thousand years ago. The evening chill had descended as we got off at Manger Square and people drew their wraps and warm coats closer around their bodies. The Bethlehem sky was a mix of pink and blue as we entered the Church of the Nativity through what is thought to be the original entrance which was built low to keep out horses and asses that might have strayed into the church. No Israeli tanks and occupation forces to be seen. Inside the church it was even colder, as is usually the case because many such buildings are made of stone which does not retain heat. The Church of the Nativity is built around the manger where it is believed Jesus Christ was born of the Virgin Mary in the days of Herod the King. The church is credited to St. Helena, mother of the Emperor Constantine who was converted to the Christian religion. As the Roman service began I took the opportunity to wander into the Greek chapel on the right wing of the main church. The Church of the Nativity houses a Greek Orthodox and Anglican chapel, the main central part of the church belonging to the Roman Catholics. The Greek chapel was high roofed and dim, with stained glass windows set high up in the walls the and faint, slanting rays of the setting sun reaching the deepest recesses of the mysterious chapel. It was like walking through a chapter of Dostoyevsky or Tolstoy and the Russian Orthodox church which bears resemblances to its Greek counterpart. A Greek priest with jet black hair worn in a knot on the nape of his neck noticed a foreigner straying into his chapel but said nothing, so I was able to take a look round and enjoy the unusual experience. The Roman Mass in the main church, said by the cleric who accompanied our group, was over and we then descended the narrow staircase to the Grotto of the Nativity in the basement of the church, which was once the manger where Jesus Christ is said to have been born. An eminent Sri Lankan archaeologist told me that the original level of the manger must have been lower than it is now, but he had no doubt that the site of the modern-day Grotto is the original site of the manger. We were overwhelmed by the sight that met our eyes. The Grotto was like a treasure trove; silver, bronze and brass lamps hung around the area marking the spot where the Christ Child was born. These are treasures left by pilgrims to adorn the Grotto. Curtains and carpets helped to keep the cold out as pilgrims of all Christian denominations crowded round the centre of the grotto where a silver star embedded in the floor marks the exact spot of the Nativity. The star is not like the Star of David, the Jewish king from whom Jesus was descended, but more like the stars you see in the night sky, and more particularly like the Star that hung over the manger and which led the Magi across the desert sands to the spot where Christ was born. They say the three kings came with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, depicting Royal Estate, Divinity and Death respectively. Pilgrims fell on their knees to kiss the star around which are inscribed the Latin words 'Jesus Christus Natus Est', - here was born Jesus Christ. In the centre of the star is an opening revealing the original floor of the manger which pilgrims flock to touch and revere. It is a strange and overwhelming experience to stand in that grotto, face to face with the history that has dominated many of our lives culturally. It was now past sunset and the chill was biting as we surfaced to ground level to board the bus back to Jerusalem. But dallying in Manger Square where souvenir sellers and pavement hawkers tempted us with baubles and bangles, in the words of a popular version of an aria from Borodin's opera 'Prince Igor', made our blood freeze more coldly, as in that cheery Christmas carol 'Good King Wenceslaus'. Back in Jerusalem we shivered in our boots as we shoved and pushed to get into our inn as fast as possible. Dinner was hot, stewed chicken - hunks of it - dunked in olive oil, potatoes and garden vegetables from the grounds of the inn where Arab Christian cooks turned out hearty meals, although less than gourmet, from home-made cheese to the unleavened breakfast bread, all washed down with less than fine, home-made wine we bought for roughly around one rupee (in our money), a bottle. There was plenty of the red, red beverage, so there was no need for a miracle of turning water into wine. |
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I was 'passed' as belonging to the Faith and was even allowed to go to
Rome which in those days of travel difficulties was only granted to Roman
Catholics. It was a clear afternoon in Jerusalem but there was a nip in
the air when we stepped out of the inn run by Passionist Fathers where we
were staying and resembling a Crusader building, to travel in a somewhat
rickety bus to Bethlehem - a drive of about one hour and a bit.
