Day 6 Part 3

We wind our way through the maze of narrow streets and busyness that is Jerusalem.  

We are heading to Bethlehem which I did not remember is a Palestinian controlled area.  Near the infamous security wall we stop and all of our Israeli guides step off the bus.  The Palestinians do not allow Israelis to work in their areas.  It is frustrating how unequal and double standard everything is.  Palestinians can work in Israeli controlled areas, but not the other way around.  In all of this, I never heard any of our Israeli guides ever speak in a derogatory manner about the Palestinians.

We move ahead to the security gates that are flanked by guard towers.  As you look up into the tower windows you can almost count the multiple layers of bullet proof glass that is inches thick.  Men in uniforms carrying automatic weapons walk about and one of our American guides is negotiating our entrance into Bethlehem. 

On the other side of the wall, we get new Palestinian guides that enter our bus.  I don't care for the situation as we have already spent days with our Israeli guides and have really grown to appreciate them very much.  There is almost a feeling of resentment that they are not allowed to be with us because of the politics that exist.

It is interesting that Bethlehem is not far from Jerusalem.  All the little maps in the back of my Bible don't really convey this as seeing it in real time.  We enter Bethlehem and I am anxious to see the Church of the Nativity.  But first things first, it is lunch time.  

If anything, the streets of Bethlehem are narrower and busier.  We wind around and eventually drive into a parking garage which looks like the lowest floor of a mall of some sort.  All the buses pull in and we ascend an escalator (the only ones we will ever see on this trip).  Indiana Jolie insists that we need to take the stairs to get some exercise.  At this point we do not know that we are averaging walking 5-6 miles a day as someone with a pedometer will announce at the end of our tour.  So, exercise we do.  Up a long flight of stairs.  

We land on the first floor of this mall and it is strangely vacant of stores, a few Palestinian people milling about and then we take another long flight of stairs to the next floor while everyone else takes the escalator.  This second floor of the mall has a few more shops and people but we are whisked down a long hallway toward a very large room.  

There are large spacious restrooms just before we get there and they become crowded quickly.  Entering the large room, there is a large buffet set up, I quickly spot the falafel and schnitzel options and see that there are other things to try as well.  We choose a table to sit at with a couple of our friends.  We are soon told we cannot sit there but must sit somewhere else.  I don't know how we were supposed to know that, but we relocate and await instructions.  

Lunch will be $10 per person, US.  This will be the cheapest meal we eat in Israel, or Palestine depending on your politics.  We are starved.  Eventually we are invited to the buffet and we dig in.  It is all very good and a nice change from the usual lunch.  We can go back if we like and I do.  

This level we are on is level with the street outside.  We once again take advantage of the facilities and are instructed to follow our guides outside.  Bethlehem is tight, busy, hilly and packed with people.  We cross a busy street of traffic (all 160 of us) and get on an already packed sidewalk on the other side.  We are heading to the Church of the Nativity.  I am excited for this.  

On our way up the long hill on the crowded sidewalk, Indiana Jolie spies an American style coffee shop, "Stars and Bucks".  

"Oh!  We must stop and purchase coffee mugs for the staff guys", she says.  Two more women in the group think this is a great idea and the three of them go inside.  I stay with them except outside keeping an eye on the group in case they disappear.  I don't want to wander Bethlehem lost and looking for our tour group.  

The rest of our group obediently follows the guides and I nervously pace outside Stars and Bucks hoping I can keep everyone in sight. Several hundred yards up the hill the group takes a right and heads who knows where.  I am hoping the girls are finishing their purchases and we can run to catch up before the last of the group turns the corner.  I look inside, they are just standing there, the proprietor hasn't even acknowledged them yet.  I mention to them in a way that I hope does not reveal my nervousness that the group has headed around a corner and they will soon be out of sight.

The girls insist this will not take long.  I go outside to see the last of our group disappear around the corner.  Ok.  I wait.  I pace.  I look in once in awhile.  This is taking a long time.  I see them talking with the proprietor and there are hand motions.  One by one they all take their turn purchasing Stars and Bucks merchandise.  After some very long minutes the three ladies emerge from Stars and Bucks with their prizes.  All I can think is those staff guys better appreciate me risking my life while they drink coffee out of those mugs.  

The ladies ask where the group is.  I tell them I have no idea.  Only now do they seem somewhat worried.  We start up the long street at a pace that we hope does not reveal our fear of being left behind.  It takes forever to get to the corner.  When we do, we discover that they left someone behind to wait for us which brings a lot of anxiety relief.  

We go up another hill for a block and then cross the street to our left.  Straight ahead they tell us is the Church of the Nativity.  

Not impressive at all.  There is a large square in front where we all gather and we listen through our little blue listening devices as our guides tell us what this place is all about.

We get in line and wait our turn to go inside.  The door is very short.  I am six foot almost six inches.  The door is maybe five foot high.  I have to bend over quite a bit to walk inside.  I am told that the door was once much bigger in past centuries but it was blocked off to make it impossible for people to ride into the church on their horses.  

Once inside it takes awhile for our eyes to adjust to the very low light.  If the outside lacks inspiration, the inside is where they put all of it.  The huge columns, the byzantine artwork, the mosaic floor tiling, 

the stones polished shiny by the feet of countless pilgrims over the centuries.  Ancient stone stairways leading who knows where up and down.  All of it has a melancholy feel to it.  

We slowly march along in line with people of many different nationalities.  We gaze up at the iconic paintings.  All of the faces are long and sad.  No body smiles in the pictures.  The middle ages must have been a very sad time.  The adornments of lights and incense burners and beads and brass vessels create an almost carnival appearance in their attempt to venerate the birthplace of Jesus. It is a little odd to see the newish "twisty" style lights in the antique fixtures. 

It is too much to take in, there is way too much to see.  My inferior little snapshot camera is not up to the task of the darkened spaces.  

We are nearing the "grotto" where it is thought the birth of Jesus took place.  We begin descending some steps underneath the altar area of the church.  

It is strangely familiar as I have seen pictures of this all my life.  Down further, we are now under the altar.  To the left there is the "manger" where Jesus was laid.  

Just ahead the star with the opening in it where some reach their hand down in it to touch the stone beneath where Jesus was born.  It is so crowded I wonder if I will even get to see it myself.  Then, for just a second, the "grotto" is free of any worshipers and I have my camera ready.  I snap what turns out to be a great shot!  

The the vacuum of space quickly fills with people again who aggressively move me aside (push me) kneel and bend over prostrate toward the grotto.  There is so little room in this area and so many people are here to see what we are seeing.  I want to linger and look around and see if I might get a second chance at stooping down to view the birth place.  Not a chance.  Our worshiping fellow pilgrims aren't giving an inch and the crowd continues to surge in.  I am forced out the other side of under the altar and back into the regular church.  

It all strikes me so different that I could have imagined.  I thought I would be fascinated and in awe.  The effect is quite different.  I for some reason just can't see Jesus pleased with the falderal of it all.  Seeing so many treat the icons and other objects and things to worship (venerate) gives me such a feeling of idolatry.  I don't want to sit here and be judgmental so I move on.  

The Church of the Nativity is controlled by (overseen? owned?) by three sects of Christianity.  The Armeanin Church controls the nativity grotto, the Greek Orthodox Church controls the main church and the Catholic Church controls what we will see next which is more surprising and fascinating than I ever expected.