Dale in a Manger

 

Manger of Jesus (right) below the Church of the Nativity

In late 2013, I had the opportunity to visit Israel while I was stationed with the Army in Jordan. During our swift, 60-hour tour of numerous sites in the Holy Land, we visited the Church of the Nativity. This church, like so many in the area, was built on top of an historic site in order to protect the site. In this case, it is the manger where Jesus was born.

At least, that is what is believed. The site is in Bethlehem, it is a manger, Jesus was born in Bethlehem in a manger, so it is close enough for me!

The entrance for the manger is behind the alter in the church and there was quite a line the day we went. I was at the back of our group and, for a few minutes, we were the last folks in line.

Then, a group of nuns came in. It was obvious they were nuns from the habits they wore, but theirs was a very different color — almost a lavender. There were about 25 or so and they were in four neat rows that would make a drill sergeant proud. They seemed fairly young and did not speak. I wish I could have gotten a picture but my camera’s battery had just died.

There were four men in clergy attire who accompanied the women. They were bearded so they were obviously with a Christian Orthodox church. I waited to hear them speak to see if they were Russian or Greek Orthodox priests. I know a bit of Greek from my Dad whose parents came from Greece and I have heard enough Russian from movies and my military training to recognize it. However, when they spoke, it was neither language. Interestingly, it sounded almost familiar, but I could not place it.

After what seemed like a long time, I got up the nerve to ask the priests if they spoke English. It turned out two of them spoke very good English and told me they were Romanian Orthodox. I had never heard the Romanian language, but since it is one of the Romance languages, it sounded similar to French which I have a passing knowledge of.

They asked me where I was from. When they found out I was American they said I must visit their church in San Francisco as they were very proud of the renovations they had done. At the time I lived in Kansas so a day trip was out of the question, but I promised the next time I was in San Francisco I would definitely go there.

By the end of our conversation we were nearing the entrance for the manger. I focused on going down the long flight of stairs that led to the manger below. I went down the stairs slowly so I could drink in the moment. This gave me space from the rest of my group in front of me since they had moved a bit more quickly.

As I got towards the bottom of the stairs, I could see there were two areas of interest. On my left was the location of the manger and on my right was an area dedicated to the wise men who brought gold, frankincense and myrrh to the Christ child. It struck me the area was much smaller than I had imagined it would be. It was also very short. All the depictions I had seen of the manger showed a taller ceiling. Both areas were covered in tapestries adorned with what looked like gold and jewels.

Even though the area did not look like all the mangers I had seen in books and movies, the idea that I was near the spot where my Lord and Savior had drawn his first breath as a newborn baby was almost mesmerizing. At the same time, I realized no one was behind me. Then I heard the door close at the top of the stairs. Before I could turn and see why, the air was filled with the most beautiful singing I had heard in a long time. It came from the nuns at the top of the stairs.

Even though I was unable to understand what their song was, it did not matter. The moment could not have been more perfect. I felt like one of the shepherds who was being sung to by the Angels when they announced the birth of Jesus.

Unfortunately, the moment was short-lived as the men in charge of the area motioned for me to get moving. One of the unfortunate aspects of touring the Holy Land is there are so many tourists you do not have the opportunity to soak in the experience. I had been able to grab a few extra seconds since I moved slowly down the stairs. I got a few more when everyone was listening to the nuns. But these men were pros and would not let me linger too long.

Once I was ushered out of the manger area, I lost track of the nuns and the priests. I had to catch up with my group so we could continue our whirlwind tour.

I still have not gotten to San Francisco, but when I do, I will fulfill my promise and visit the Romanian Orthodox church. I have quite a story to tell them.