Bethlehem or Bedlam

Scripture: Luke 2:8-14

A few years ago, I had the privilege of touring the Holy Land. It was a magnificent experience. What a thrill it was to see the Jordan River, the Sea of Galilee, the Mount of Olives, the Mount of Transfiguration, the ancient marketplace, the upper room, the Garden of Resurrection, the village of Jericho, and the Holy City of Jerusalem! Just being in those historic and sacred places was wonderfully mind-boggling to me. As we traveled back toward our hotel at the end of each day, tired but exhilarated, I found myself humming the song "I Walked Today Where Jesus Walked" and sensing something of the impact of what that songwriter must have felt when he first penned those words.

Early one morning, we started toward Bethlehem. Bethlehem. We were actually going to that sacred place where the Christ Child was born. I couldn't wait! Even though it was January, I was ready for Christmas in Bethlehem. As the tour bus slowed to enter the city, I glanced out the window; and I couldn't believe my eyes. On the Bethlehem hillside, there were some shepherds keeping watch over their flocks. It looked like a perfect scene for a Christmas card. I was touched and inspired by the simple, serene splendor of that sight.

However, when we arrived in the city, it was anything but serene splendor! It was a madhouse, total bedlam with loud music; gaudy signs; gross commercialism; merchants shouting and hawking their souvenirs like there was no tomorrow; people milling about, pushing, and shoving; poor children everywhere, begging for money; and our tour director warning us to watch out for pickpockets.

"Wait a minute!" I wanted to shout. "This is Bethlehem, not Bourbon Street! This is Bethlehem, not Times Square!" It was indeed Bethlehem, but it seemed more like Bedlam. I wanted Christmas, but it felt like confusion! My heart sank. I felt let down, disappointed, and disillusioned. As we walked into the Church of the Nativity and approached the spot built to honor Christ's birth, I was amazed to see that the same carnival-like atmosphere prevailed there as well. Even the chapel was loud, boisterous, commercial, and chaotic, with hucksters selling trinkets, T-shirts, pictures, and postcards. My spirit sagged even more. I wanted Bethlehem, but it was all bedlam.

Then something happened to change how I was feeling. A girl who looked to be six or seven years old was standing there with her mother, who was explaining to her that this was the place where Jesus was born on the first Christmas. Then, in the midst of the hucksters, merchants, and tourists, that girl did a beautiful thing. She dropped to her knees. Then she bowed her head and said, "Thank you, God, for sending Jesus! Amen."

As I heard the simple, sincere prayer of that little girl, it suddenly was Christmas in my heart! Once again, Christmas had come through a little child in Bethlehem. Bedlam had become Bethlehem. It was a touching moment, and it made me realize something: Christmas always happens right in the midst of our confusion. We don't have to choose between Bethlehem and Bedlam. They go together. They always have. That's the good news, isn't it? God breaks into our confusion, our bedlam and becomes known through Jesus Christ.

Bethlehem and bedlam: Weren't they intimately related at the first Christmas when Jesus was born? Sometimes we forget that. Remember the bedlam in Bethlehem that night? Just think of it—a crowded inn, a stable, a census, political intrigue, soldiers marching in the street, a busy city, people pushing and shoving, people scrambling for shelter. In that bedlam in Bethlehem so many centuries ago, Christmas happened. Christmas broke through! In that busy, hectic uproar, it happened; and those with the eyes, ears, and hearts of faith saw it, heard it, and felt it.

One year, I received a Christmas card from one of our church's college students. It had been mailed during her exam week, a busy, frantic time. On the back of the envelope, she had scribbled the following poem:

I longed to be alone with God,
to thank Him for His grace,
and have a quiet peaceful talk,
in some secluded place.
But yet confronting me each day,
were tasks I could not shirk;
"You just go right ahead," said God,
"We'll visit while we work!"

This is the good news of Christmas: God meets us where we are. God breaks into our uproar, our busyness, our hectic pace, our darkness, and our confusion through the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem—Jesus, who we know as the King of kings, the light of the world, and the gracious, forgiving One who understands.

I don't always identify with some of the popular songs of our time. However, every so often, I find one with a special message. A few years ago, Mac Davis wrote and recorded a song that haunted me. It is called "Every Now and Then," and the chorus reminds us that we can find comfort because every now and then something happens that is full of hope and wonder: "Every now and then, a blind squirrel finds an acorn/ Every now and then, a crippled sparrow takes to the wing."

Every now and then, we find Bethlehem. Every now and then, the real spirit, the real meaning of Christmas, breaks through the fog, the bedlam, and the confusion to clear up things. That's the experience that keeps us going.

We Find Bethlehem When We Discover Who God Is and What God Is Like

That is, the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem clears up the theological confusion. Christmas shows us what God is like. It gives us a new picture, and what it reveals is good news and glad tidings. I heard a story about a seven-year-old boy who had been playing outside. His mother called him in for dinner. The boy ran in, jumped into his chair, and grabbed his fork, ready to eat. "Wait, Tommy," said his mom, "you have germs on your hands. Gotta wash up before we eat." Tommy scrambled down, ran and washed his hands, came back, climbed into his chair, grabbed his fork, and started to eat. But again, his mother stopped him: "Wait, Tommy. We must say the blessing before we eat. We want to thank God for our food." Tommy put down his fork, mournfully shook his head, and muttered wearily, "Germs and God, germs and God, that's all I ever hear around here, and I haven't seen either one of them."

We can sympathize with Tommy's predicament, but Jesus' birth in Bethlehem does give God a face. Christmas shows us who God is and what God is like. William Barclay put it like this: "Jesus is the one person who can tell us what God is like and what God means us to be. In him alone, we see what God is and what we ought to be. Before Jesus came, people had only vague and shadowy, and often quite wrong, ideas about God; they could only at best guess and grope; but Jesus could say: 'Whoever has seen me has seen the Father' (John 14:9). In Jesus we see the love, the compassion, the mercy, the seeking heart and the purity of God as nowhere else in all this world. With the coming of Jesus, the time of guessing is gone and the time of certainty is come.... Jesus came to tell us the truth about God and the truth about ourselves."

This, you see, is the good news of...