The Middle East is a troubled place. And, really, this is nothing new. The land that we call Israel or Palestine has been characterized by instability for as long as we can remember. The players change but the game is the same. It’s all very complicated -- hinging on geographical and political realities.
Right now it wouldn’t hurt to have a few of those peace keeping troops hanging out in Bethlehem. Thigns are pretty tense tonight -- although the Israeli troops have pulled out.
You know, there were international peace-keepers -- monitors -- on duty at the time of the first Christmas. Now, I know that this isn’t common knowledge but I have very reliable information that has been passed down from the Scandinavian side of my family.
As you know Scandinavians are big into peace-keeping these days. And this has always been the case. It’s a part of our heritage. It’s in our genes. Anything that you’ve heard about Scandinavians pillaging and plundering is total misinformation. The Vikings were on peace-keeping missions and they’ve been vilified by the various factions they were sent to monitor. If any group has been victimized by revisionist history it is the Scandinavians.
Well, anyway, whether you believe it or not there were peace-keepers on duty that first Christmas Eve. And some of them were Scandinavians. Some were Germans, some Canadians, some French – but lots were Johnsons, Ericksons, and Petersons.
And so I have it on good word that there was one particular Scandianian intelligence officer on duty that beautiful terrifying night – a young captain named Johan. No he didn’t have a last name. Swedes didn’t figure out that it would make life a lot easier to have a last name until sometime in the 19th century. So he was simply known as Johan.
And it was Johan’s task to gather intelligence on people and troop movements in and around the small town of Bethlehem. And it was no easy task because the Roman Emperor Augustus had declared a census. So all the men had to travel to their family hometowns to register. This meant that there were a lot extra people on the highways and byways – which meant there were extra Roman troops out.
And the Jewish King Herod – didn’t want to be outdone by the Romans – with whom he had a tenuous peace. So he was moving troops around, too. This also meant that the zealot revolutionaries who would have been happy to cut the throats of either a Roman or a Herodian were out, as well.
So Johan had no easy task keeping track of who was going where and when.
That night, the captain was filling out some paperwork at the barrack office when word came that there was some kind of commotion in a shepherd’s field a kilometer – maybe two – outside town. He grabbed his blue beret, walkie-talkie, and his field pack and rushed toward the scene.
About a kilometer out he encountered a group of five befuddled shepherds who started telling him some wild story about angels and a barn. They kept pointing toward the sky.
Now, the truth be known, Johan wasn’t very good at the Aramaic language. And he wasn’t really understanding all that much of what the excited shepherds were saying. As best he could figure out it had something to do with the unusually bright star that was shining that night. Maybe they thought it was some kind of omen. Maybe they saw it as a sign that they should attack – although the shepherds didn’t seem like they were gearing up for a fight. To the contrary. He couldn’t tell if they were running from something or going somewhere.
As the shepherds finished their story -- as disjointed as it was -- and then headed off toward town, the peace keeper hung back a bit and decided that he should follow them from a distance. As the pastoral contingent approached town they started stopping at all the stables behind the houses. They’d poke their heads in – then out – and quickly turn toward the next barn -- all of which were built around the large rocks and caves which dot the village.
It didn’t take long before they found what they were looking for. (After all, there weren’t that many barns in Bethlehem. The song is rightly named – “O LITTLE TOWN of Bethlehem”).
Johan stood around the corner of the doorway hoping to hear what was going on inside. But between the lowing cattle and the excited voices it was hard to make it out. He eased in just a little bit closer. Then he heard it. It wasn’t loud but it was definitely a crying baby. Was this some kind of baby shower?
The sound of the baby put the captain at ease. So he stepped into the doorway and there saw one of the more bizarre sights of his life. The shepherds were all huddled around a rag-wrapped baby which was crying from his make-shift bed – fashioned with straw in a feeding trough. The mother – still weak from birthing – sat on a pile of straw with one hand stroking the baby’s head. Another man, not one of the shepherds, perhaps the baby’s father, was busy trying to tie a couple of cows up in the back. They seemed intent on a midnight snack at the manger.
Johan moved in closer. The family and the shepherds looked up and saw him. No one seemed terribly concerned that he was there. As a matter of fact, the woman’s smile seemed to invite him for an even closer look. He worked his way in amongst the shepherds and even took a turn playing with the baby’s tiny little fingers.
What a beautiful sight – a baby born in the midst of all of this tension. Maybe there is hope.
He thought of his own children back home and just how vulnerable they were at birth.
At that point everyone started talking at him – trying to explain something about the baby. Johan could barely understand an excited word. So he just moved his head up and down and said, “yah, yah”.
The captain had no idea how long he stood there looking at that baby or listening to the babbling Jews. But it suddenly struck him that it was getting late – or more precisely early. There was morning light starting to seep through the stable cracks.
He knew he had to go. And really, there was no reason why he shouldn’t. After all, these shepherds were certainly not zealot revolutionaries -- or Roman operatives or herodian agents. Who knows what that commontion of earlier in the night had actually been. AND certainly the birth of a baby in a barn wouldn’t matter to either of the competing governments.
He smiled and offered a few last congratulatory words to the happy but tired couple – turned and walked out into the morning air – and back toward his office. As he sat down at his desk he pulled out the watch report and began to write. “Followed suspicious shepherds from countryside to Bethlehem barn where they met with a family which had just given birth. NOTHING OF SIGNIFICANCE to report.”
