(photo I took from Manger Square in Bethlehem, looking at the Church of the Nativity)
To many, perhaps especially those with a religious tradition that has meaning to them, "place" can be an important issue. "Where did this happen?", "Exactly what was the site that this occurred at?" are common questions. Did Moses receive the Ten Commandments on this mountain? Did Mohammed leave on his horse from this particular rock? Did Jesus say these words while he was standing right here, or was he a half-a-mile down the road to the west? A person I know understands this well and often writes about it, and has said that "Place" is an important concept to people and can ditto that. Maybe even moreso to the modern person who is used to dealing with hard data and evidence. I am reminded each day I am here here how particularly difficult dealing with "place" can be.
A story to begin with: When I was a boy, we played baseball at a park in South Minneapolis. I remember it pretty well. It had four fields, and I can recall particular plays or at-bats I had almost as if it were yesterday. (With so few “highlights” of personal performance to recall, trust me, it ain’t that hard.) When I return there these days, it is different. Since I was a youth playing sports on the four baseball diamonds, things have changed. They have built tennis courts near one baseball field, pushing it over farther to the middle of the park. The fields are sodded and look a little different. All of them have new backstops, unlike the chainlink behemoths we used to climb. One field which I really liked playing on is now in fact completely gone, as they covered it twenty years ago when they built a new, sleek, brick park building with an outdoor kid’s pool right along the home plate/first base line.
In fact, the other two “sandlots” parks of my youth are completely gone. One is now buried underneath a city block covered with condominiums, the other has a huge school building sitting on top of what used to be sandy baseball diamonds. All that within less than forty years. Years from now, if I should ever have grandchildren or great-grandchildren, and they decided to research where Grandpa played baseball to honor my memory – how would they do it? Where would they start, what could they hope to find? What might still be left?
Have any of your old youthful haunts been re-developed or plowed over? If so, you can also understand one dilemma in establishing “place”.
Now, instead of dealing in a few decades, go back centuries and millenniums. Years and years and years. Back to times when there were no cameras, no surveying plots, no recorded records or on-the-spot written accounts, no reporters to take notes, and no one asking the question about “place” until well after the event – sometimes decades if not CENTURIES later. How do you deal with THAT?
For many religious people, and I know especially for Christians, it can prove either vexing, perplexing, or offer a chance to create another type of reality. I won’t comment on the merits of any of those – I suppose individuals will have to determine that for themselves. But it is important to understand the issue.
Here’s the quick story of Bethlehem.
There's not much historical dispute that Jesus existed and lived.
There are biblical stories that talk about his birth in Bethlehem. Most of these gospel stories were written starting about 70 years AFTER the fact. (I am not that old yet, and every time I have to write down “Place of Birth” on a form, I have to pause and think for a quick second where it was people told me I was born. And it’s even WRITTEN on my birth certificate.)
Most scholars believe the tradition that puts Jesus birth in Bethlehem has a pretty good degree of reliability. Not absolute, but pretty good. (If you are a Christian person that has a strong belief in the complete and total inspiration and unfailing inerrancy of everything and anything written in the Bible, I’d suggest stopping right here and reading some of my food blogs. More interesting, and less to cause tension between the two of us over theological debates.)
No one wrote down or talked about exactly where it was that Jesus was born. The gospel writers had some sources we believe, but of course, they didn’t get exact addresses. Those days – they didn't even have them. Different than today.
The very early Christian community in Bethlehem in the decades after Jesus’ life had a tradition about certain caves (we would consider this the “manger” from the infancy narratives) that were considered “special” as an area for commemorating his birth. It was not just a single cave, and they were basing this on likely geographical areas and places where it could have happened. Who came up with that? No one can say. Remember -- no one drew maps. Not even the gospel writers give the global coordinates, right?
In the second century, a Christian writer wrote about this local tradition in some materials he happens to be writing.
A century or so later (think about how long that is), some people build a church above these caves, thus solidifying the tradition as the official “site” of the Nativity -- the Birth of Jesus.
To say that Jesus was born right in this particular spot is impossible to claim on almost any level. The people of the time are a little less concerned with “preciseness”, not considering it to be something that has to stand up in a court of law. It is just a site of veneration that is meaningful. They thought differently about “place" than we might.
Centuries, pass, and churches are built and rebuilt and expanded and decorated…..until we arrive at what we have today.
A huge church. The long-standing Church of the Nativity in Manger Square in Bethlehem, built up over some caves that were in the city that were assigned a “tradition”. (Remember, construction workers didn't show up to lay the concrete foundation the morning after Jesus' family left and moved to Nazareth. It was CENTURIES after his birth. A huge altar sits a few floors over these caves (see picture), which can only be accessed down marble steps, with a marble floor serving as a roof to physically “hide" these caves. A silver star-like ornamentation that is hollow in the middle, opens to a cave below. If you could see down into it, which you can’t, you might be seeing into where Jesus was born. Or maybe a cave that was just next to where he was born. Or maybe a block away. Or maybe he was born on the other side of town. Assuming he was born in this town, which historically we think he was. Somewhere. Or maybe more in a house-like area (though that is less likely, actually). One just doesn’t know. It is impossible to know. No reporters were on the scene, and no one followed up for decades to come.
Long lines of people piously line up to go down these steps and put their hand into the opening. They kiss the ground. Perhaps some believing it is THE cave, that maybe some straw from the orignal manger is still down there, that they are RIGHT THERE at the VERY SPOT. Or maybe they are just celebrating the tradition, regardless of its historical accuracy in terms of “X marks this EXACT SPOT”. Belief and piety are nourished by different needs for proof or meaning or value.
When it comes to “Place”, maybe each determines for themselves what is important.
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