Prayer for Christian Unity 2012

http://walkinjerusalem.blogspot.com/
by Fred & Gloria Strickert

Peter & Andrew embrace: the model of unity

Week of Prayer for Christian Unity

One of the highlights of life in Jerusalem is the experience in late January, in the cold of winter under rainy skies, of warm Christian fellowship and prayer with Christians from the widest expanse of liturgical traditions bringing to reality what we confess in the creed each Sunday of "one holy catholic and apostolic church."  We share with you a few visual memories of this week.

Saturday

Church of the Holy Sepul- chre   Greek Orthodox Clergy

Sunday

Anglican Cathedral of St. George

 

Theme: We will all be changed by the Victory of Jesus Christ (1 Cor. 15)

                  Monday

Armenian Cathedral of St. James

Tuesday

The Lutheran Church of the Redeemer

Bishop Younan's Sermon
Read it here








The Prayer for Christian Unity


United in Christ who gives us the victory, let us pray to God:

For the Church, the Body of Christ, that we might truly live the unity we receive through the Holy Spirit.
Unite us around the cross of Jesus.

For the leaders of our churches that they may be faithful to the unity to which all Christians are called and that they may show humility and meekness through the example of Christ.
Unite us around the cross of Jesus.

For the nations of the world, that all may live in peace with one another and promote justice for all and that political leaders may seek the welfare of all and not follow their own interests.
Unite us around the cross of Jesus.

For the people of our society, that we may respect the human rights and dignity of all and that we may be transformed to live as caring neighbors.
Unite us around the cross of Jesus.

For the sick and suffering, that we may accompany them in their struggles and that they may be transformed by your healing presence.
Unite us around the cross of Jesus.

For our relationships with Jews and Muslims, that we may find courage to tear down walls of indifference, fear, and hatred as we show respect in a spirit humility.
Unite us around the cross of Jesus.

For the common witness of the Church in the Holy Land as it carries the cross of Jesus in the world today looking forward in hope to the final victory of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Lord, stand in our midst and grant us unity and peace. Amen.

Wednesday

Latin Patriarchate Church

Thursday

Upper Room

Friday

Ethiopian Orthodox Church

Saturday

St. Anthony's Coptic Church

Sunday

Greek Catholic Church

The bread of the Agape Feast dipped into wine is a foretaste of the unity to come.

For Jerusalem's Week of Prayer for Christian Unity 2011, see archives "February 2011"

Photo credits: Elly McHan, ELCJHL and Marie Armelle

By Fred & Gloria Strickert

http://walkinjerusalem.blogspot.com/

My Favorite Place

http://walkinjerusalem.blogspot.com/
by Fred & Gloria Strickert

The Lutheran Church of the Redeemer made the New York Times this weekend, with the description “my favorite church in Jerusalem.”

The author. Matt Gross, for four years wrote a regular column for the Times, called The Frugal Traveler having visited nearly two hundred countries around the globe. So he’s certainly a person with a lot of travel experience, and he’s likely set foot into more churches, synagogues, mosques, and temples world-wide than most globe trotters—after all he’s the Frugal traveler. And here in Jerusalem (a city know by the proliferation of religious places), he refers to Redeemer as his favorite.

It’s a nice little travelogue and you can click on it here: Lost in Jerusalem (aka My favorite place).

An interesting aspect of this story that Gross shares with the reader in the first paragraphs is that he considers himself a “deeply’” secular Jew from Brooklyn who never wanted to visit Israel. Yet last December, at the encouragement of a friend, he made his first trip, all the while thinking of himself as the “lone unbeliever” in a sea of religious people.

Something about this church affected him so that he returned several times including a Sunday morning worship service. And so his final verdict: my favorite place in Jerusalem.

For those of us who consider Redeemer “home,” this it quite the compliment.

It lead us to reflect a bit about the many visitors who come our way, those who show up on a single Sunday to attend worship and those who drop by during the week to say a prayer, to gaze at architectural beauty, or to pause for a moment of silence making connections between these myriads of physical stones and that which continues to remain unseen.

The first thing that strikes us is, as realtors often say, location, location, location.

Celebration of Holy Fire at Orthodox Easter at Tomb of Jesus.








In the photo we use as the header for this website, the two domes just to the west of Redeemer are over ancient Golgotha and the tomb.  Sometimes we have to pinch ourselves as a reminder that here in the heart of old city Jerusalem, just a stone’s throw away of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the empty tomb, and the Via Dolorosa, stands a magnificent Lutheran Church. Even among Lutheran visitors, probably only a third are cognizant of this fact before they come, another third are pleasantly surprised, and another third pass by our doors without even realizing who we are.

Yet it is because of the location that so many folks stumble upon us unexpectedly—people from all walks of life, from all corners of the earth, and from every faith expression whether counting themselves among the faithful or the skeptical. And in contrast to the gathering of crowds in the nearby well-known ancient churches and the busy streets and markets, Redeemer is not on the itinerary of most tour guides. As a result, it is a comparatively quiet place, attractive for those who want a moment alone.

A second observation from our time here is that Redeemer is appealing to many because of its simplicity. Gross describes the main sanctuary as both “elegant and spare” with tall pillars and graceful curves. The main sanctuary was constructed in 1898 under the direction of Kaiser Wilhelm and German architects in a Neo-Romanesque style and the ubiquitous Jerusalem limestone. Those cold grey stones are windows to a vastness of thoughts and ideas. Most visitors don’t realize it, but the walls were once covered in paint, but in restorations following the shelling in the 1967 war, the color was all stripped away except for a small circular Christus Rex in the upper apse.

Redeemer offers regular organ recitals and concerts for string ensembles on Saturday nights.  By far the largest number of attendees are Israelis who venture into the old city for this blend of music and architecture.

It is very common for the groups that I meet to express an appreciation for this lack of decoration. The ornate styles of the Middle East are something that westerners grow to appreciate only over time. The simple cold stone has a calming affect and is inducive to reflection.

The same goes for the worship space of the English Congregation, our smaller St. John’s Chapel restored from the 12th century hospital refectory. The less-than-perfect rugged stone work remains bare, yet hinting of an ancient archway here or the beginning of a stairway there, and a blocked passage-way in the wall behind the altar. Such architecture often transports one’s thoughts to earlier times and that great cloud of witnesses that spans the centuries.

It is not unusual to find a solitary figure sitting in quiet meditation in either of our places of worship.  The doors are open throughout the week. Most people come and go, no questions asked.  Our purpose is not to intrude, to destroy a special moment.

But sometimes someone lingers, like the Hebrew University student last February who missed her worshipping community back home, and who subsequently returned again and again. Sometimes one of our doormen offers an invitation or provides a bulletin with prayers and readings or further information. I had to smile last week when our Muslim custodian, Abu Muhammad, brought one such visitor to my office, “This is my pastor.” But often the visitors come quietly in wonder and anticipation and leave quietly with heads bowed.

On Sunday mornings we have English-language services at 9:00 in the 12th-century chapel, while Arabic service are going on next door in the large sanctuary. Our goals are to be welcoming congregations. One of the exciting things about Sundays mornings is that we never know what to expect or whom to expect. We have our core group of regular members, some here on work, some for study, and many in volunteer capacities. Coming to Jerusalem on temporary assignment they keep their church membership back home, just as we continue to belong to our home congregation in Waverly, Iowa. We use Evangelical Lutheran Worship in our services and we have Lutheran in our name. Yet we speak of ourselves also as International and Ecumenical with arms open to welcome all.

A year ago with only one child in our Sunday School program, we decided to make children’s ministry a priority, and quickly discovered that this is a critical need for expatriate personnel with families. Through word of mouth we now count seventeen children among our children bringing new life and excitement to all. When we stepped back to evaluate what was taking place, the surprise that only one of these families has a Lutheran background. All are welcome. This is the nature of ministry in Jerusalem. We have fourteen ELCA Lutherans, and Lutherans from Norway, Sweden, and Finland actively involved in the life of the congregation, yet our church council at the end of the year included a member of the Free Church tradition in the States, a Mennonite, an English Baptist, a French Protestant, and just one Lutheran. We’re all here because we need our faith community.

The majority of our worshippers on any given Sunday are one-time visitors, pilgrims, tourists, delegations, sometimes coming alone, and sometimes in larger groups. Occasionally we know in advance about a group. But most often it is a serendipitous surprise. At the end of the service we take time for introductions, no matter how long it takes. They too come from all over the world, and likely from every denomination. The last two Sundays we’ve had kipa-wearing rabbis in the congregation, coming with Christian colleagues on interfaith tours—going together to synagogue on Saturday and then coming together to our service on Sunday. All are welcome.

The Frugal Traveler mentioned in his travelogue that his several visits to the solitary quiet of Redeemer  lured him back for a Sunday service, when the Arab congregation was gathered. He was impressed with the greeting at the door, “All the languages are in God’s light.” It didn’t matter that the woman behind him sang in a reedy voice, or that the kids were restless, or that the organist hit a few errant notes. This was his favorite place.

A welcoming church in Jerusalem is no different than welcoming churches in the States. The surprising line in this article was not so much that he mentioned Redeemer in glowing terms, but that he compared worship at Redeemer to an earlier experience visiting a church in Decorah, Iowa.  That's Decorah, as in the small town just up the road a bit from our home.  Naturally we wondered if perchance he had been a student at Luther College. But after researching his earlier blogs, we learned that The Frugal Traveler had just been driving across the midwest on a road trip for another column. There, stopping at a random eating establishment, he struck up a conversation with the owners who ended up inviting him into their home for three days, and also to attend church on Sunday morning. 

It’s the same with churches everywhere, Decorah, Iowa or Jerusalem.  All are welcome.

by Fred & Gloria Strickert
http://walkinjerusalem.blogspot.com/

Seeing the Baby Jesus

http://walkinjerusalem.blogspot.com/
by Fred & Gloria Strickert

We first saw Jesus a baby in a crib.
This same Lord Jesus today has come
to live in our world;
he is present in our neighbors we see,
our Jesus is with us, and ever sets us free.
      "All Earth is Hopeful" verse 4, ELW 266

Christmas is best understood through the eyes of children.  So for our Christmas Day worship at Redeemer the children themselves read the Christmas Gospel from the Spark Story Bible.

With our own four grand- daughters -- ages two and a half to ten -- here sharing Christmas week (and in this photo posing at the eighth-century Islamic Hisham Palace in Jericho) we had the benefit of their observations, their insights, their interpetations, and their honesty and candor to help us see things a bit differently than we normally see them.

Along with our granddaughters, we of course enjoyed the company of our son, two daughters, and two sons-in-law, experiencing Christmas in Jerusalem and Bethlehem. 

It was time for fun and celebration, for sharing and catching up on things, for a little site-seeing, and for just being together-- a real blessing for us all.  During our drives, we found time to reflect upon the words spoken by the young.

"I want to see the baby Jesus," two-and-a-half year-old Lilly reminded us upon her arrival late Sunday afternoon.  Their travel schedule had placed them on an airplane through Christmas Eve and most of Christmas Day.  So they had missed our Saturday visit to Bethlehem for Christmas Eve worship, for browsing among the crowds in Manger Square, and for watching the afternoon parade of the Latin Patriarch, dignitaries, and local Scouts drum and bugel corps including the Syrian Orthodox bagpipe group.  So what were Lilly's priorities?  "I want to see the Baby Jesus?"  "We'll have to wait til later in the week when we'll take you to Bethlehem," Fred responded.  "And what if that doesn't satisfy her?"  Gloria asked.  "We'll just have to see."

We had several stops in our itinerary at the beginning of the week before we would travel to Bethlehem, including a day in the desert east of Jerusalem, with a long hike and visit to St. George's Monastery in Wadi Qelt.


"I hiked all this way, and all I saw was four dead guys and a treasure chest."

This was five-year old Izzy's out-of-breath appraisal when arriving once again up the hill where we had parked the cars across the gorge from the monastery.

One has to grow in to an appreciation of the orthodox style of art with dark painted icons and ornate decorations.  It is not too difficult for a child to turn one's focus to the skeletons of former monks and perhaps to remind us of Luke's Easter angel, "Why do you seek the living among the dead?"

Perhaps Lilly's quest for the baby Jesus would better take place elsewhere.
We first saw Jesus a baby in a crib.
This same Lord Jesus today has come to live in our world;
he is present in our neighbors we see.

"I rode a camel!"
exclaimed Lilly.

Then a little later she reminded us, "I want to see the baby Jesus!"

So, yes, we'll be visiting Bethlehem tomorrow!
But would Bethlehem fill Lilly's expectations?








We learned at the monastery that one of their four monks was lying in a hospital bed with a gash over his eye from the fight the previous day at Nativity Church.  We probably don't have to explain.

 Thanks to Youtube, video of priests fighting with mops and brooms had circled the globe--an embarrassment to the local church.  "That's what you can expect from Palestinians," I overheard an Israeli guide telling his group back in Jerusalem.  Of course, what is not usually said is that the priests involved are not Palestinians but expatriates, both the hierarchy of the Greek Orthodox church and Armenian students who have come from abroad to study in the local seminaries-- and so a great divide separating them from the local Palestinian Christian membership, not a theology of accompaniment.  (See Munther Isaac's article on Sojourner's website.)  So every year when the Greek Orthodox and Armenians have their annual cleaning day before Orthodox Christmas, it seems that arguments and fights break out, not the kind of thing the baby Jesus would approve of in the place of his birth.

So what were we to expect in Bethlehem?
Would Lilly find the baby Jesus?

"I think they're playing tag," announced seven-year old Emma in the backseat as we were driving through the streets of East Jerusalem the next day on our way to Bethehem.  We had come across a group of Palestinian youths running down the side walk as fast as their legs would carry them, being chased by green-uniformed Israeli soldiers with their rifles drawn.  Still in the age of innocense Emma had sized things up from her realm of experience, "I think they're playing tag."   It is such a daily occurrance for us to see soldiers with guns, often stopping youths asking for IDs, and sometimes chasing them and arresting them.  We have become so used to these sights that the abnormal seems normal. 

We thought about these kids, not knowing their fate, this week after Emma and her cousins left, when we saw the photo of six-year old Muhammad ali Dhirbas.  Little Muhammad was apprehended by Israeli forces while going on an errand to the local grocery store and taken to the police station for four hours of interrogation on Tuesday afternoon.  Muhammad is from the refugee camp Issawiya, just a short ways north of our home.  Hardly a day goes by that Israeli soldiers don't raid the camp, keeping the residents unsettled and on edge, and letting them know who's boss.  Last Tuesday morning on one of their raids, the fully armed soldiers experienced rock throwing from young kids.  Unable to catch any of them, the soldiers did the next best thing apprehending a child, any child, walking innocently to the store, and teaching him a lesson. 

We first saw Jesus a baby in a crib.
This same Lord Jesus today has come
to live in our world;
he is present in our neighbors we see.
both in children playing tag, & in children terrorized by intimidating soldiers.

The Christmas season comes at the same time as end of the year reports by human rights organizations who have just reminded us that

• The number of Palestinian minors held in custody of Israeli security forces throughout the year 2011 ranged from 120 to 186 a month while the most common prison term for minors was six months.  (http://www.btselem.org/)
• 21 Palestinian children died during 2011 as the result of Israeli army and air forces attacks, many in bombing raids on crowded Gaza. (http://www.middleeastmonitor.org.uk/
• 36 % of Palestinians in the West Bank are 14 years and under while 44 % of Palestinians in Gaza are 14 years and under.

The most Orwellian story of the week, however, comes from the Israeli Border Patrol who have announced that they are training armed Israeli youth as young as 16 years to catch illegal Palestinian day laborers in building projects in Modiin and neighboring settlements.  It shouldn't be too different from playing tag, just using guns.


"Is this a prison? I thought we were going to Bethlehem."  So ten-year-old Maria reacted while going through the Bethlehem check point.   As Pastor Mitri Raheb said in his welcoming remarks on Christmas Eve, "Welcome to the once little town of Bethlehem, now a significant city, yet reduced to an area of four square miles surrounded by a 25-ft high wall with military watch towers." 

So Maria, your namesake Mary of Nazareth would have certainly said the same thing-- as countless of others through history wanting to seeing the baby Jesus.

  

In manger square next to the traditional Christmas tree, Palestinian artist Rana Bishara erected a tree that resembled the wall, grey in color, and covered with barbed-wire tinsel and tear-gas-canister decorations.  The latter had all been used by Israeli forces against non-violent protesters against the wall, sometimes causing harm and even death.  My colleague Ryan noticed the initials CTS on the canisters, designating its manufacturer as Combined Tactical Systems of Jamestown, Pennsylvania.  So much for wise men from afar and their Christmas gifts!

"A prison," observed Maria.  Children have a way of seeing what adults fail to see.  "So why do Jews have to live behind that wall?"  That's how an eight-year-old Palestinian girl reacted while driving along with her mother from Ramallah to Jerusalem where her mother works just up the hill from us at Mercy Corps, a Portland-based aid organization. For her, the wall represents a deeply troubled society that lives in fear.

A world dominated by fear-- not the kind of world for a baby to be born, especially when that baby is the Savior of the world.  We can easily imagine that a child would think about this for a few minutes and respond, "What was God thinking?" 

"Perfect love casts out all fear." ( 1 John 4:18).  That's what God was thinking.  That's a concept that even children can understand.
And so the irony that those who are supposed to be enclosed by this wall of separation live as if they are free, while it is the warden who is imprisoned.  Thus the Bethlehem municipality designated for Christmas 2011 the theme Palestine Celebrating Hope.

The thousands of Palestinian visitors to Nativity Church and Manger Square all week from all over the West Bank--Christians and Muslims alike--were a clear sign of that spirit of hope. 

That is Jesus present in our neighbors we see--especially the young.

"I want to see the Baby Jesus," Lilly had repeated throughout the week and now stood patiently in line amidst the crowds waiting to enter the Grotto below the Church of the Nativity.

In the Grotto, Lilly paused to view a doll-like representation of the baby Jesus in a marble and glass enclosure representing the manger.  This is the baby Jesus image carried to a resting place beneath the altar of the Latin Catholic St. Catherine's Church for the December 25 midnight service.

Outside St. Catherine's Church Lilly then paused to view a lifesize Creche given to the people of Bethlehem by the Italian city of Trent.

"I saw the baby Jesus," Lilly later announced to us as we were walking through Manger Square.  Was it the representation in the Grotto?  or the Creche?  or the people she encountered?  What was it that brought the bibical story alive for her?  Perhaps she'll have to figure that out for herself as she grows older, just as we have all done.  Children have a way of understanding that teaches us all.

We first saw Jesus a baby in a crib.

This same Lord Jesus today has come
to live in our world;
he is present in our neighbors we see,
our Jesus is with us, and ever sets us free.

AFTERWARD
Our four granddaughters have now returned home with their parents.  It would be interesting to hear their descriptions of their visit as they share with their friends.

Lilly's report was pretty much what we expected, with a small addition.

"I saw the baby Jesus and the gas station where Mary rested."

That's how she responded when her other grandparents in North Carolina asked her what she saw.


So what's this about a gas station?

On the evening that Maria and Emma arrived, we hosted in our home an Advent 4 midweek soup supper.  In Fred's presentation about descriptions of Mary in literature and tradition outside the Bible, we looked at this photo of the fifth-century octagonal Kathisma Church discovered in the 1990s on the Hebron/ Bethlehem road near Mar Elias monastery.
Kathisma = Greek for "sitting down" or where Mary rested.

Because few are aware of these ruins, even those who drive by every day, the landmark mentioned was "the green gas station just before the stop light"  (toward the upper left corner in photo.)

So when we were driving to Bethlehem, Maria and Emma both blurted out, "Look! The gas station and the church where Mary rested."  Not bad memories for these two young girls.

Two-and-a-half year old Lilly sat quietly "pondering all this in her heart."  Only later when returning to her own home did she announce, "I saw the baby Jesus and the gas station where Mary rested."

by Fred & Gloria Strickert
http://walkinjerusalem.blogspot.com/

Christmas Eve Sermon

http://walkinjerusalem.blogspot.com/
by Fred & Gloria Strickert

Message for Dec. 24, 2011

Christmas Eve Service

Christmas Lutheran Church in Bethlehem

 “Joseph also went. . . along with Mary, his wife. . . who was expecting a child.”  (Luke 2:4-5)

As we have come together for worship, early on a December evening, here in Bethlehem, we are warm here inside Christmas Lutheran Church, sheltered from the cold, the wind, the rain so common this time of year.  Please, all come inside, find a seat, sit close together as you try to stay warm.  Sit close together and try to imagine what it was like that day when Joseph and Mary arrived outside the small village of Bethlehem.  When Joseph and Mary arrived without reservations, without a hotel confirmation number, but with a dire need for shelter.  When Joseph and Mary arrived knowing only that God always provides, and that God provides best through generous, welcoming, and hospitable people.

Today on Christmas Eve, Dec, 24, 2011. five thousand miles to the east of Bethlehem in the cities of Cagayan de Oro and Illigan more than one thousand have died from the Philippines typhoon and 275,000 are homeless, all vulnerable and dependent on the good will of others. 

Today on Christmas Eve, Dec. 24, 2011, several hundred miles to the north of Bethlehem, Syrian families are packing up their belongings and trying to get out of the way of escalating violence and conflict.

Today on Christmas Eve, Dec. 24, 2011, two thousand miles away south from Bethlehem in the northeast province of Kenya,

one thousand people arrived in Dadaab refugee camp,

just as yesterday another one thousand arrived,

and tomorrow another one thousand will arrive,

all having traveled a week or two from their homes

because of the famine from the extreme drought affecting the Horn of Africa. 

(photo: Paul Jeffry, ACT Alliance)

They have been coming well over a year since the United Nations asked the Lutheran World Federation to expand this older Dadaab Refugee camp, originally equipped for 40,000.  They have come empty handed, only carrying with them their faith, their hope, their dream that something waits for them.  Now 700,000 have found welcome with food, shelter, safety, no different from Joseph and Mary arriving in Bethlehem two thousand years ago—a refugee camp with few resources of their own but providing hospitality for the stranger, hope for those without reason to hope. 

Among those arriving in Dadaab are mothers with small children as also expectant mothers soon to experience the birth pangs of childbirth—no different from Mary arriving in the small village of Bethlehem 2000 years ago.


(Painting: Black Madonna, Frank Wesley, India) 

This is the story of our modern world with half the world’s population living in sprawling urban centers, millions of people moving from villages to cities seeking a better life.  Emigrants seeking better economic conditions.  14 million people officially registered with refugee status.  And some of you sitting here tonight know very well what it means to carry a refugee card, like far too many of your fellow Palestinians.  In the world 27 million are classifired as internally displaced persons.  Millions of others unofficially seeking refuge from flooded homes, earthquakes, and poor economic times.  Millions of others trying to get out of the way of a humanity gone mad with war and conflict.

Perhaps I read the ancient gospel with eyes opened on this night to the plight of young refugee mothers, because on Christmas Eve some nine plus decades ago my own grandmother, single and pregnant, made her way from her ancestral village on the Rhine River to the German city of Mayen in  hope of a future in war-torn Europe among occupying soldiers.  Perhaps, I listen this way to Luke’s description of the first Christmas because I cannot forget the stories told me years ago by members of this Bethlehem congregation of Christmas 1948, when fleeing armies in Lydda and Ramle they eventually found their way to Bethlehem with only the clothes they could carry in a suitcase, leaving behind all the physical connections to the past, but prayers for a better future.  We cannot, but think of the many people in transition at Christmas 2011 when we hear the words of the Christmas story.

But these are not merely nostalgic episodes of what might have been, but testimonies of faith and hope.  People came to Bethlehem, because they knew that Bethlehemites would take them in.  What else would one expect from a town named House of Bread?  What else would one expect where Boaz welcomed the Moabites Ruth and Naomi to glean in the fields?  What else would one expect when hospitality reigns chief among virtues?  What else would one expect from people whose first words that role off their lips are Ahlan Wasahlan? 

What else would we expect from a modern city reduced to a 4 square mile plot of land surrounded by 25 foot high walls and threatening military watch towers, where the welcome of soldiers is dependent upon the Western passport we carry, yet where in the homes and stores of Bethlehem many of us ourselves have experienced from today’s Bethlehemites hospitality and a warm, generous, open-armed welcome.

And so Joseph also went up, along with Mary to whom he was engaged, and who was pregnant.  They went up, surely with questions in their head, where will we stay?  Where will we find food and drink?  Where will our baby be born?  They went with questions, but with full confidence that God is a God who provides.  And God provides best when it takes place through humans, who are open, welcoming, hospitable.  Yes, we have to strip away the myth-makers who in their culturely foreign retelling of the Christmas story envisioned this tiny village with its own 5-star Bethlehem Inn, with its gruff, individualistic, profit-motivated, self-centered, and stingy inn-keeper, none of which is an accurate translation of the Lucan text. 

Here beneath the sanctuary of Christmas Lutheran Church are a number of caves, where people found refuge, warmth and security, over thousands of years of human upheaval.  As people settled, they built houses over these caves where they kept their livestock, cattle, donkeys, sheep, and goats. 

 It was likely in such a cave that Jesus was born.  The Katalyma of Luke’s gospel, the guest room, upstairs in the house was already crowded with travelers that first Christmas night.  Still the householders were apparently very generous people, welcoming the strangers and showing hospitality.  They would not think of turning away Joseph and his pregnant wife.  That was not the culture of Bethlehem.  They would find a place for them, even if it was in the cave below the house. 

• A cave where the young couple could find protection from the natural elements and security.
• A cave where they could be warm. 
• A cave where their calls for help could be heard even in the crowded rooms upstairs.
• A cave where young Mary could find the privacy needed during her labor.
• A cave where the baby Jesus would find his first home—among the travelers, among the homeless, among strangers, emigrants, and refugees.  Among the most vulnerable of people, people in need of a savior. 

A savior “. . . not regarding equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptying himself, taking the form of a servant.”  Phil 2:6-7

“And so the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”  (John 1:14)  Among us in our world filled with refugees and immigrants.

The child of a refugee family finding hospitality and welcome in Bethlehem, just as the church today accepts the challenge of welcoming the stranger today.  Fred Otieno, from the Church in Nairobi, recently said reflecting on his 18 hour a day, seven day a week position as camp coordinator at the Dadaab Refugee Camp, “God has a purpose for us being here to make a difference in the lives of these people, so we must try and help them enjoy their stay, because at the end of the day we all need one another.”  This is the message that goes out from the Bethlehem manger, "At the end of the day we all need one another."

As we gather as community to hear this age-old story, we remember that

• Christmas is not about how much we can accumulate and horde, but about how much we can give away, sharing with those in need. 
• Christmas is not about walls that divide, security that intimates, and policies that humiliate, but about an attitude toward life in a spirit which loves the other as our self.
• Christmas is not even about safe, romantic, idyllic tales of long ago, but it is about Christ coming into our midst, now, in the present moment.
• Christmas is about welcoming Jesus into our midst, as we welcome the least among us, as we show hospitality to the stranger, for then we may discover that we have been entertaining angels unawares, or even God’s own son.

by Fred & Gloria Strickert

http://walkinjerusalem.blogspot.com/