The Waiting Crib: Nativity Redefined
DECEMBER 11, 2024
On a cold night on the West Bank, in the tiny hamlet of Bayt Lahm, still shrouded in slumber, a couple from Nazareth made an unusual arrival. The woman, gripped in labor pains, the man knocked on the villagers' doors for help. Their cries echoing the streets, however, were in vain.
Life seems shattered for the couple, disheartened by humanity's coldness. Have the people here become stone-hearted for not hearing the cry of a pregnant woman? The wife asked her husband. Not ignoring her cries, the worrisome husband went to the corners, to the middle of the road, and shouted for help, but no one answered.
The husband said, " Let’s go to the marketplace and see if anyone can help us." Walking down the quiet streets of Bayt Lahm, the couple was surprised to find some houses open but eerily empty. They paused in the open houses to seek refuge in the vacant homes but hesitated, reluctant to enter a stranger's home uninvited. Little could he do to his wife. No one in this town, no men, women, or children. Where have they gone? Both were surprised.
"Has rapture come? Have they all gone to a fair? Where could they have vanished, leaving everything behind?" the husband wondered aloud as they continued down the deserted streets. Step by step, they treaded toward the marketplace, hoping for answers.
But what met their eyes was puzzling—a once beautiful, thriving market that had brought goods from all corners of the world now lay silent. Stalls stood abandoned, their wares untouched, doors tightly shut. The stillness of the marketplace only deepened the mystery, leaving the couple to wonder what had emptied the town so completely. "Is there a curfew?" the wife asked, her voice trembling with exhaustion and confusion.
Walking a few steps in exhaustion, the woman screamed, "No, I can’t move anymore; the baby is pushing, find some help, or I will die on the streets.” On the road, with no help and no place to cover, her cries of labor echoed through the night. Unbearable to hear the agony the husband grew crushed by her pain and feeling utterly helpless; he stepped out of her, leaving her alone. The woman cried, prayed, shouted, and screamed, and then silence came. Drawn by it, the man rushed back to his wife. He saw a beautiful baby boy cradled in her arms. With twinkling eyes, the baby saw his father, seemingly confused yet smiling. A wave of joy and relief swept over the man as if the weight of their struggles had momentarily lifted.
From a distance, they spotted an inn. "Perhaps someone there will take us in," the husband said with a glimmer of hope. They knocked on its heavy wooden door, and their desperation grew. Still, no one welcomed them. The husband knocked heavily; the hard, heavy door opened, and they found no one behind it. Even the door had a softer heart than the people of this town, thought the couple.
Panic rushed through the husband as he scanned the area, desperate for a solution. He ran to the nooks of the inn, shouting and screaming for help: "Is anyone there? Is anyone there? Please, Please, my wife and my child need shelter! The cold may kill them! Is there no one who can hear us?" His pleas were swallowed by the cold, indifferent night, and silence was the only reply.
Behind the inn was a cattle shed; the husband felt relieved "I will go to the shed and find a place for you both." The husband rushed desperately to the cattle. Stinky and smelly was it, Yet, no place to go and no one to welcome, he brought his wife and his child to the cattle shed.
With trembling hands, he gently wiped the child clean, whispering, "You will wipe the tears of the world." Carefully, he wrapped the newborn in a cloth and placed him in the waiting crib that stood amidst the humble cattle shed.
Then the dawn came, the baby in his innocence, radiating peace and unaware of the harshness surrounding him. Little did he know that last night, the IDF had raided the village, yet He smiled.....
Author:
Philip Richard Sundaram
McCormick Theological Seminary
Co-Editor, The Herald