Bethlehem—A Pilgrimage.
Bethlehem, where was born the Redeemer of the world, is one of the holiest spots of earth, and to it the thoughts of the Christian turn with constant delight. The events in the life of our Lord which give to Jerusalem its supreme interest are mostly of a saddening character, bringing to recollection the sufferings of Jesus for the salvation of his people; and, wherever we turn in the city of the Great King, we are reminded of the Man of Sorrows, and the contradiction of sinners which he endured. But Bethlehem has other associations; and the pilgrim to the sacred shrines can here pour out his soul in joyful gratitude and love, for he is where God's infinite mercy was made evident to Jew and Gentile, and the Saviour of the world was first seen by those he came to redeem.
On the 30th of January, 1866, I reached Jerusalem in company with my friend the Reverend Father Wadhams, of Albany. We had brought letters from Rome to his excellency the Patriarch of Jerusalem, and to the reverendissimo superior of the Franciscans at the convent of San Salvador. The Franciscan monks have charge of all the sacred places in the Holy Land. We were most kindly received by the patriarch and the superior of the convent; and the latter not only offered us the hospitality of the Casa Nuova, (where all the Catholic pilgrims lodge,) but gave permission for one of the priests to be our companion and attendant every day. The company of this good father, with which we were constantly favored during our stay in Jerusalem, was of inestimable value. He knew all about the sacred localities, having been six years a resident in the Holy Land. He was from Ireland, and the only one in the community who spoke English, the others being Italians.
On Sexagesima Sunday, Father Wadhams, Father Luigi, and the writer of this sketch walked to Bethlehem, a distance of six miles. Leaving Jerusalem by the Jaffa gate, we turned southward. Having crossed the valley of Gihon, after a short distance the pathway was on level ground, over the plain of Rephaim, where King David gained his victory over the Philistines. Beyond this, in the middle of the road, is a well or cistern, having around it some large rough stones. There is a tradition that, as the wise men from the east were going from Jerusalem to Bethlehem in search of the new-born King of the Jews, the star which had guided them in the early part of their journey from home, but had disappeared as they drew near the former city, was seen reflected in the water at this spot. Certain it is that, either here or within a short distance, they were favored once more with the guidance of the star which led them to the place, and stood still over where the child Jesus was.
About half-way between Jerusalem and Bethlehem is the Greek monastery of the Prophet Elijah. It is said he once rested here. From this neighborhood we can see Jerusalem on the north and Bethlehem on the south; and thus the two holiest places in the world are visible to the pilgrim at once. Before we go on to the city of the Nativity, let us pause a few moments to recollect the history of the place and observe its appearance from a distance.
Bethlehem is one of the oldest cities in the world, having a history of more than three thousand six hundred years. The name signified the House of Bread; now its Arabic form, Beit Lahm, denotes the House of Flesh. Either name is suitable for the place in which the true bread of life, whose flesh is the food of immortality, was to be born. It is called Bethlehem-Judah, to distinguish it from another Bethlehem in the region of Zebulun; it is also called Bethlehem Ephratah, or the fruitful. The earliest mention of it is in the book of Genesis, (xxxv. 1 8,) in the description of the death and burial of Rachel. Six hundred years afterward occurred the events narrated in the book of Ruth. A century after the marriage of Boaz and Ruth, David was born here, who, at the age of seventeen years, was anointed king over Israel—and hence it obtained the name of the city of David, and is thus called in the holy Gospel.
For a thousand years the history of Bethlehem is obscure, until the place starts into prominence and immortal glory as the scene of the wondrous events attending the birth of Christ. With this narrative every Christian is familiar; and each year, under the guidance of the church, we renew, at Christmas and Epiphany, the joy which its telling brings. An edict of the Roman emperor required all the people of Judea to present themselves for enrolment in the cities where they belonged, even should they be residing in other and distant places. In obedience to this injunction, Joseph, the espoused husband of the Virgin Mary, accompanied by her, repaired to his own city, Bethlehem, he being of the house and lineage of David. A long journey of eighty miles from Nazareth in the north, where he lived, to Bethlehem in the south was thus imperative; for Roman rulers were strict in demanding obedience to their laws on the part of conquered peoples. By the time they reached Bethlehem, the town was already full, and there was no room for them in the inn or public place for the reception of travellers. They were thus compelled to do the best they could, and found shelter in a rude place where some cattle were kept. This was not only better than none, but was such as many travellers since that time have been obliged to content themselves with. Even now, it is sometimes found in the East that the house and stable are together, being the same apartment; a floor somewhat raised above the ground being the place for the people, while the other part is tenanted by cattle, sheep, or goats. There was no evidence that it was cruel indifference on the part of the Bethlehemites which led to the choice of this place by the holy ones who came there. That they were poor is more certainly known from the offering made in the temple in Jerusalem, when the Divine Infant was presented there, at the purification of his stainless mother.
It was in this cheerless place that Christ was born of the Holy Virgin, according to the prophecies of Isaias and Micheas. Now, indeed, was it true that "Thou, Bethlehem Ephrata, out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be the ruler in Israel; and his going forth is from the beginning, from the days of eternity." Shepherds were keeping watch over their flocks by night; and the angel of God appeared to them, and the brightness of God shone round about them; and while they feared, the angel said to them: "Fear not; for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy that shall be to all the people; for this day is born to you a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord, in the city of David. And this shall be a sign unto you: you shall find the infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, Glory be to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of good will." The shepherds went to Bethlehem, and found these things so, and they and others wondered thereat.
So was the Messiah made known to the Jews, as, in a few days afterwards, he was manifested to Gentiles in the persons of the magi, or wise men from the East.
Standing at the place where we have the first good view of Bethlehem, at the point midway between Jerusalem and the city of the Nativity, the eye ranges over an extensive region. Before us is the city to which our steps are directed. It is on very high ground, on a ridge projecting from the mountain range. The Church of the Nativity, a large building with the convents attached, is on the left of the view, the houses of the village being more to the right and three or four hundred yards from the church. From three sides there is a descent, in places very great, so that on the north, east, and south, there are deep valleys at the foot of the hill on which the buildings stand. All the land near the church and houses is cultivated, and the hill is completely terraced and covered with olive and fig trees, and vines, which are carefully tended. Every foot of available ground is thus brought into use; and the fine condition of the trees and vines shows that nothing is wanting to restore the ancient fertility of the region but security for labor—something miserably wanting throughout the East. The convents are built up against the church, and give it the appearance of an enormous castle. The houses of the town are grouped somewhat closely, and have a compact look. Like all edifices in this part of the world, they are built of a grayish limestone, the roofs being of stone, generally flat, but sometimes with a small dome. We are standing about three miles north of Bethlehem, and the eye ranges over a wide extent of hill country, especially to the left. The hills of Judea are near us, the mountains of Moab beyond and to the east. On the hither side of these last is the Dead Sea, filling the sunken basin where once stood the wicked cities of the plain. Under our feet, and all the way to Bethlehem, the ground is covered with immense numbers of stones about four inches in size, so that travelling, whether on foot or horseback, is neither easy nor pleasant.
Let us now go forward to the city. One mile this side of Bethlehem, at a short distance to the right of the path we follow, is the tomb of Rachel. This spot is one of the most interesting of its kind in the world. Rachel was the wife of the Patriarch Jacob, and she died and was buried here, "on the way to Ephrah which is Bethlehem." Her memory has always been held in respect by the Jews and Christians, and even now the former go there every Thursday, to pray and read the old, old history of this mother of their race. When leaving Bethlehem for the fourth and last time, after we had passed the tomb of Rachel, on our way to Jerusalem, Father Luigi and I met a hundred or more Jews on their weekly visit to the venerated spot. A small square building, with a dome, covers the grave of one whose name will never perish from the remembrance of the people of God.
As we stand at the tomb of Rachel, at our right is the village of Beitjala, Bethlehem being a mile or more to our left. Beitjala is a thriving place, having many beautiful olive-trees, the finest I ever saw. The Catholic Seminary for Priests of the Patriarch of Jerusalem is there, and a fine large church has just been completed. The Rector of the Seminary was consecrated Bishop of Beitjala in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre some weeks after our departure.
Entering Bethlehem to go to the convent, we pass through a large part of the city, the church being at the left of the ridge. There are about three thousand residents in the city, who are all, or nearly so, Christians. The streets are few, and, like all Eastern cities, narrow and dirty—very narrow and very dirty, indeed. Many of the people are out of doors. As we pass along, we see some small, rude shops or dens, in which various articles are exposed for sale. We look in other rooms, and find men at work sitting on the ground, turning beads for rosaries. The work is done rapidly, and great quantities of these are made. Also, crosses and medals are carved from the mother of pearl shell. As every one who goes to the Holy Land makes some purchases of these articles, there is quite a brisk trade at Easter time, when the pilgrims most resort to the shrines. These beads, medals, and crosses are taken to Jerusalem and blessed in the most Holy Sepulchre of our Lord, and are thus in just estimation among the holy things of earth. A cross made in Bethlehem, where Christ was born, and blessed in the most Holy Sepulchre where he was buried, and from which he rose triumphant over death, is surely a precious thing for any Christian to have. In going through some of the streets of Bethlehem, I have seen the scraps of pearl which were left in the manufacture of crosses and medals, and had been thrown out as refuse, sparkling and glistening in the bright sunshine, reminding one of the city above, whose gates are pearl. But the place where Christ was born is so holy that not even pearls are too precious to pave its streets.
The Latin convent is on the north side of the great church, and to the left, as one approaches the venerable pile. We knock at the iron door, which is opened quickly, and enter the reception-room of the house. This is a pleasant and comfortable place; and the pilgrim, fatigued by the long walk or ride, finds it a cheerful place of rest. The good fathers of the monastery are hospitable and kind, and give such welcome as the traveller would wish to receive at this holy place. The convent is old, and the walls are of great strength, being ten feet thick, which makes a deep recess at every window. A long table covered with a green cloth is in the middle of the room, and there are comfortable divans or cushioned seats along the wall by the windows. Portraits of a king and queen, who were benefactors of the convent many years ago, hang at the farther end of the apartment; while among the later decorations of the walls are good portraits of the present Emperor and Empress of Austria. Some photographs and engravings of religious subjects are also here; and there is a homelike and cheerful appearance which is most grateful to the weary traveller from other and distant lands.
Let us glance at the buildings and their history. The grotto or cave in which Christ was born is covered by the large church. Of this spot, as being the very place where the infant God was born, there never has been a doubt. The identification of it goes back to the very next century after the Ascension of Christ. The church was built by Saint Helena, the mother of the first Christian Emperor, Constantine the Great, and it is the oldest place erected for Christian worship in the world. It was solidly and well built, and even now bids fair to last when many of the slight structures of modern times shall have fallen into ruin. It is fifteen hundred years old; in length one hundred and twenty feet, the breadth being one hundred and ten. There are four rows of large marble columns, taken, probably, from the porches of the temple in Jerusalem. Each row contains twelve columns, each one being of a single stone, twenty feet high and thirty inches in diameter; they are smooth, and have handsome capitals of the Corinthian order. The roof of the church was originally of the cedars of Lebanon, but was repaired about four hundred years ago with oak. The columns were once richly ornamented, and the walls were inlaid with mosaics; these are nearly all gone, and whitewash is in their stead. The Sanctuary was very beautiful, and yet retains much of the adornment of better days; but we can only see the top of the altar screen as we stand in the body of the church, for a large wall now runs entirely across the upper end of the nave, dividing it from the sanctuary. In consequence of this, the whole church looks desolate, empty, and cold. There are some cheap and mean glass lamps, a few ostrich eggs, and other trifling objects in the way of decoration, but the whole of this once beautiful and magnificent interior is desolate and neglected. Being common property of the Latins, Greeks, and Armenians, it receives care from none; or, rather, the jealousies of the Christians prevent any attempt at restoration. The stone pavement is broken and irregular. The main door of entrance from the village has been partly walled up, so that one can only enter by stooping low. This was done a long time since, to hinder the Turks from riding in on horses, mules, or camels; and the barrier against this sort of desecration is effectual enough.
The sanctuary of the church is directly over the spot where our Lord was born; and was once, as it should be, rich and gorgeous as loving devotion could make it—a brave sight in the day of its perfection. Raised six steps above the level of the floor of the body of the church, it is nearly square, and is large enough to accommodate the congregations who gather there. This sanctuary is in the possession of the Greeks and Armenians; for they, being richer than the Latins, have bought from the Turks the largest share in all the holy places in Bethlehem and Jerusalem.
The church, with its sanctuary described above, is over the crypt or grotto, which is the glory of Bethlehem, the place where Christ was born. Let us now go down to this most holy and blessed spot. It is reached by a flight of steps on each side of the great sanctuary, about thirteen in number, much worn by the thousands of feet which have pressed them. Language fails to convey the sentiments and emotions of the pilgrim as he descends these old steps. In a moment more he is to be there—there, where his Redeemer was born—there, where his heart has yearned to be thousands of times, through many long years, in the far distant land which is his home. Carefully he descends, and, when nearly at the bottom, he sees, at the right hand, a silver star fastened in the marble floor; over it a number of small lamps burning; three steps more—he kneels and flings himself prostrate—he is there! Blessed is the pilgrim to whom God has given this joy, the holiest and sweetest ever known on earth!
Doubtless we have all known, at some time or other, a gladness of heart whose power and intensity have caused it to be remembered in after-years, as marking the brightest day in our lives. With many it is that of the first communion; with others, something else has caused it. But the pilgrim to the holy places has a peculiar joy in addition to that shared with his brethren at home. And he will be forgiven if he say, as he feels, that there is no joy like that he has when he kneels where Christ was born. The superior of the convent at Jerusalem told me, on my first interview with him, "Jerusalem est locus crucis et spinarum." The superior of the convent at Bethlehem said, "Bethlehem est domus laetitiae." Both these excellent fathers spoke truly, and justly described the character of their respective cities. I subsequently found that Jerusalem was indeed the place of the cross and of thorns; but it needed only this day—only this hour—to prove to me, with all fulness of absolute certainty, that Bethlehem is indeed the house of joy. Think you that there is on earth another place so blessed and joyful as this? I know of none. Whoever has prayed at Bethlehem will say the same. The good tidings of great joy to all people from this place have been spread over the world.
Let us now look around and observe with carefulness the objects about us. We are in a grotto, apparently hewn in the rock, thirty-eight feet long, eleven feet wide, and nine feet high. The floor and walls are of large slabs of marble, once white, but grown dark by age and lamp-smoke and droppings of olive oil, for hundreds of years. The hangings are old, and in some places (especially the ceiling, which is covered with a blue stuff) dropping to pieces. Twenty-nine lamps, suspended from the roof, burn continually. The Holy Place is at the east end of the grotto; the two flights of stairs mentioned above land very near it. Imagine a semi-circular recess or apse, some four or five feet across, raised four inches above the floor. A marble slab, six inches in diameter, marks the spot where our Lord was born. Around this stone is a large silver star, which lies flat, as would a plate laid on the floor. The body of the star is cut out, so that it makes a rim around the stone in its centre. The star has fourteen rays or points, each about seven inches long, so that it is about twenty inches across the stone from one point to the opposite one. On the star is the inscription—the letters forming a circle around the marble centre—"Hic de Virgine Maria Jesus Christus natus est." Over the star hang sixteen silver lamps which ever burn; they are carefully tended day and night. There are eleven small and rude Greek pictures around the recess behind the lamps. Immediately over the star is an altar, used by the Greeks and Armenians, but not by the Latins; for the reason that Greek and Armenian gold has been largely given to the Turkish rulers for the privilege they possess. The Catholics are comparatively few in numbers and poor in money throughout the Holy Land; and to this circumstance is owing the melancholy fact that what ought to be our exclusive possession, is enjoyed by schismatics, or grudgingly shared with us by them. This altar is quite without decoration during the day. When the Greeks say their mass, they dress it up, removing the things immediately afterward. The Armenians do the same.
Just at the foot of the stairs, as we came down to the shrine, at our left hand—the star being at our right—is a little recess two feet below the floor of the grotto, perhaps seven feet square, a spot of great interest, which happily belongs to the Catholics or Latins. A stone raised eight inches high above the floor of this little chapel marks the spot where the crib stood. Over and behind the stone is an excellent painting in a frame of silver. A screen of silver wire is in front of the painting and of the five silver lamps which hang over the stone. Opposite this, and in the same little chapel, is an altar standing in the spot where the wise men from the East offered their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh to the newborn King. It was my happiness to have said Mass three times on this altar. The painting over this altar is very good; and a screen of wire is put up at the end of Mass, to protect the painting and the top of the altar during the day. In this little sunken chapel there is only just room for the celebrant and for the brother who serves the Mass; but, as it opens into the grotto on two sides, many persons can assist at the divine mysteries. Of all the shrines in Bethlehem this is the most favorable to devotion. Only a very little daylight comes down the stairs. The grotto is dimly lighted by the lamps, which are all like sanctuary lamps, with a small flame. The eye is attracted to the place of the nativity. All is silent, disposing to recollection and meditation. There are no crowds as in Jerusalem, and no Turks are seen here.
Beside these objects of chief interest, there are several others adjoining the sacred grotto. A passage leads from the rear of the grotto, at the opposite end from the shrine, past the tombs of St. Eusebius, the tombs and altar of Santa Paula and Santa Eustachium, her daughter. Opposite is the tomb of St. Jerome, with a painting representing him resting on a lion. A short distance from this is a square vault, about twenty feet in length and breadth, and nine feet high, lighted from above by a window. A stone seat or dais is around the apartment. This was the study of the great St. Jerome. It is now a chapel, and over the altar is a painting representing the saint with a lion at his feet. For more than thirty years did this great Father live in this cell. Here he made the translation of the Holy Scriptures into Latin, which we yet use—the Latin Vulgate, as it is called. Here, also, he wrote his treatises, letters, and commentaries, which are of such value and estimation in the church. Here, also, he wrote those remarkable words concerning the day of judgment, which are sometimes appended to his picture: "Quoties diem illum considero, toto corpore contremisco; sive enim comedo, sive bibo, sive aliquid aliud facio, semper videtur illa tuba terribilis sonare in auribus meis: Surgite mortui, venite ad judicium." This is the reason why he is sometimes painted with a trumpet, illa tuba terribilis, blown by an angel over his head. He was one of the earliest and certainly the most illustrious of pilgrims from Europe to Bethlehem, and is justly honored as a doctor and father of the church. He died A.D. 420, and was buried here in his monastery; but his remains were subsequently removed to Rome, where they now are in the magnificent church of St. Mary Major.
In another place, some forty feet from the study of St. Jerome, is the tomb of the Holy Innocents, where were buried many of those so cruelly murdered by order of the wicked Herod, who hoped that in their number would be the new-born King of the Jews. With a single exception, the slaughter of the Holy Innocents is the only sad memory associated with Bethlehem. That exception is the poverty, fearful and extreme, in which some of the Catholics at this time live. Their desolation is great, and their appeals for assistance are urgent and painful to the traveller.
In Bethlehem, as in Jerusalem, there is a procession daily made to the sacred places in the church. The plan and idea of the office is the same in both places, that is, a hymn with antiphon and prayer at each station. There is a difference in the subject, of course. It was touching, when we came to the place where is the silver star, to listen to the words in the prayer, "Here Jesus Christ was born." Also, when we next went to the place where the wise men made their offerings, one of the acolytes stood at the corner of the altar and, pointing with his finger, chanted "Hic magi offerabant munera." Few things in life can equal in impressiveness this daily visit to the holy places.
At night I went up on the convent roof to see the stars shining on Bethlehem; to be in Bethlehem and see the stars look down on the spot where I stood. The sky was clear and pure. Countless thousands of the heavenly bodies were there, each in its brilliancy. Starlight is always beautiful; especially is it grateful to the eye which has been pained with the dazzling and blinding power of the Eastern sun. How often, at home, had I thought of Bethlehem and the stars, not alone that one which is so memorable in the gospel history, but also of those which may now be seen; for, ever in the future, Bethlehem and the starlight are intimately associated. I looked up with a thankful heart. Countless as these lights had been God's mercies to myself. Another was added in its being granted me to come to Bethlehem to see it, to pray there, to look up to the sky and recall the sacred events belonging to the place. That night I went to rest in joy.
The next morning, Monday, February 5th, I said mass at the altar of the Magi or Three Kings. In the afternoon, Father Wadhams, Father Luigi, and myself went out to visit a place of great interest, a mile or so from the convent. We passed through the village of the shepherds—yet retaining that name—where dwelt those who kept their flocks. Beyond this we walked over the plain and fields of Boaz and Ruth to the place where the shepherds were abiding, keeping watch over their flocks by night, and where the angel came upon them in glory, saying, "Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Saviour who is Christ the Lord." And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of good will."
We recalled this history with joy, and, taking off our hats, chanted the Gloria in Excelsis on the spot where those holy words were first heard by men. How often has not that grand and touching chant been sung throughout the world, melting the hardest hearts into penitence, and subduing the roughest natures into gentleness and love!
The place where the shepherds rested while watching their flocks was a grotto, of which there are very many throughout the Holy Land, and in it they would be sheltered from the night air, needing less protection in the day time, as the winter is not very cold. The grotto had long ago been converted into a chapel by the Greeks, and we went into it and prayed. The neighborhood—especially the place were the shepherds heard the angel's message—is planted with olive trees; and I broke a few leaves from the tree under which we stood while singing the Gloria to keep as a memorial of the place. A Catholic priest is now building a church in the village of the shepherds. Returning, we saw the place where Santa Paula lived and died; it is a mile or less from the Church of the Nativity toward Jerusalem. We came home in time to join the procession which is daily made.
Later in the evening, and when there was no one present but ourselves, we went into the sacred grotto. Perfect silence reigned. Prostrate on the marble floor, I passed an hour close to the very spot where our Lord was born. Over and over again did I pray for the good people of Nativity Church at home, and for all who were commended to my prayers. Then, in this unbroken silence, which not even our breathing disturbed, I meditated on all that had taken place here, and on the mercy from God of which the birth of the Divine Infant was the seal. Repeatedly I kissed the stone which marks the spot, and the silver star by which it is surrounded. God has often in time past been gracious to me; but I say it with a thankful heart, that this one hour was the most blessed and happy of my whole life.
I have thus attempted to describe the holy city of David, and the objects of interest within and near it. My fourth and last visit was made on the return from Hebron; and I had more difficulty in tearing myself away from Bethlehem than in leaving any other place in the Holy Land. At the Greek convent of Elijah, of which mention has been made, I turned to take my last look at the city where Christ was born. Gazing long and earnestly, the whole scene was stamped indelibly on memory, and I said "Good-bye, Bethlehem, dearest city of holy mercy, house of joy, good-bye. Peace be with thee, and peace with them who love thee!"