Oh (not so little) Town of Bethlehem

Today was our day to see Bethlehem.  It’s a city under Palestinian rule, so our guide, Halvor, was unable to take us in.  Our driver had connections, so once we got in through the border crossing, a Palestinian Christian guide came aboard our bus and started telling us about his city. 

It’s a walled city, with barbed wire on top.  It’s just like the old days when people built fortified walls around their town to keep it safe, only it wasn’t the Muslims that built the wall to keep the enemy out – it was the Jews that built the wall to keep the enemy in.  Weird.   Our driver told us it costs a million dollars a kilometer to build such a wall, but it’s the only way the Jews feel safe, and there are police with machine guns at each entrance point out of the city.  They have really beefed up security in Bethlehem and Jerusalem, (which is right next door, actually) because after the suicide bombers had their peek in the year 2000, tourism dropped off from two million visitors a year to Israel, down to only 200,000, so many businesses failed during that time.  Now they have recovered from that blow and are doing well again, but with much caution in the wind.  It’s amazing though, how chopped up Israel is with different areas controlled by different factions. 

Some in our group had a hard time understanding our new guide because his accent was pretty strong and he talked fast, but if I clued in enough, I understood him.  He was a funny guy.  He first took us to Shepherd’s Field, which is one of the three big communities inside the walls of Bethlehem.  It’s quite developed now, but right next door is still an undeveloped ex-shepherd field where we were able to see where the shepherds were actually “keeping watch over their flocks by night.”  Of course, the actual place where the Greek Orthodox believe the angels appeared to the shepherds, has a church built right over the top of it.  It is in the general area for sure, and easy to understand the significance, but these “actual spot” places just seem like ancient tourist traps to me.  We got to go down into an excavated shepherd’s cave in order to see how they may have lived and that was cool, literally.  (The photo below is of our group, standing near a shepherd's field in Bethlehem with Jerusalem in the background on that hill. - Double click on any photo to enlarge it.)

All the bus drivers and tour guides get kickbacks from certain stores if they take their busload of tourists there, so we had the obligatory stop at one of those places inside Bethlehem.  The guide swore it was a Christian owned store and we would be helping to support the 20% of Christians left in his town (50 years ago there were 75% Christians there), so we stopped.  I became suspicious of his intentions when I saw the big Muslim “eye” symbol right smack dab over the entrance to that shop.  Any dedicated Christian would have a cross there, but maybe I was wrong.  I didn’t buy much.

We were just killing time anyway because it was Sunday and our real intent in going to Bethlehem was to see the place where supposedly Jesus was born.  How anyone can know the exact spot is beyond me, but for centuries anyway, people have designated this one little hole in the wall to be the birthplace of Jesus.  Churches have created their own form of idol worship in doing so, so it was a bit sad in that regard. 

We had to wait a good hour before they opened up the basement (photo above was taken in line while waiting) where the star lies in the floor  (below) that is supposed to be over the spot where the manger was.  The church, which sits over the top of this place, is now owned by three different denominations, with the Greek Orthodox owning the biggest portion, the Armenians a small piece and the Catholics, one wing.  Each set of monks has to have their little procession in front of that star each Sunday and then “cleanse” it before visitors can come in.  Weird.

Once the line of tourists got going, it went very slowly, as two by two, people descended into the narrow stairwell and fell at their knees to kiss the floor that covers over the place where Jesus was born.  I find it hard to believe they can pinpoint a two foot by two foot square on the earth and say, “this is Holy because He was born right here” and just five feet away “this is where He was placed in the manger,” and the exit stairway was “the place where the wise men came to visit him.”  Yeah, right.  They may not have come for two years after he was born… so all this idolatry was just freaky.  

The worst thing was the “Milk Grotto” which was a place we thankfully didn’t see.  The Catholics found a white rock very near the manger sight and said that Mary spilled some of her milk while she was feeding Jesus there and God turned it into stone.  Now women travel there to receive a blessing for good milk production and healthy babies.  It kinda ruined the whole “Church of the Nativity” thing for me when I found that out.  But the fact is, Jesus was born in Bethlehem and we were in Bethlehem today “and it was good.”

Our guide had his own spin on Jesus being born in a manger, too.  The way we tell the story in America is that it’s a little shameful that Jesus didn’t even have a decent place to be born, being in with the animals and all, but our guide, who is a multi-generational Bethlehem resident, said with great pride, “… and they put him in the stable to be with the animals to protect him and keep him safe from Herod, so he wouldn’t know where he was.”  First time I’ve heard it explained that way.  So he was not ashamed there was “no room at the inn.”  I guess everyone has their side to every story. (Photo above is inside the church built over the "manger.")

We were told the reason they know this place is authentic is because in the 300s (AD) the mother of Constantine converted to Christianity and wanted to find the three most important places in the life of Jesus.  She traveled to Israel and found pagan temples built over the sight where Jesus was born, where he died and where he taught his disciples.  She was told the pagans didn’t want people coming to worship Jesus at these important sights so they tried to convert people back to pagan worship, by building temples at these exact locations.  She tore them down and had proper Christian churches built there.  And at one point her church was torn down at Bethlehem but later rebuilt. When invading Arab armies came to tear it down again, as they did with all churches in the area, they found a mural painted on the outside of the church of the three wise men, and they were dressed in the same kind of clothes they were wearing so they thought it was a holy sight for Muslims and left it standing.  Ok, then.

Because of the long wait to go in and see the “Star” in the floor of the church, our guide told us that he often takes tours to the church, but they have no time to wait to see the star.  Not that long ago he had a group from America come on tour with him and it was clearly written in their itinerary they had no time to see the star, but just the church.  They were of the “ugly American” type and they began to yell at him and make a big scene as they wanted to see that star.  He couldn’t do anything about it and finally lost his temper and yelled back.  It wasn’t a good day for him, especially since that same afternoon he had another group from America with the exact same restrictions.  So, he got clever and took them to the church, but only the part that’s owned by the Catholics so they didn’t see the Greek Orthodox side and all those standing in line.  He told them this was the spot where Jesus was born.  They asked to see the star.  He told them it was out getting repaired.  They believed him and were satisfied.  He then told us not to repeat that story because he was a certified tour guide and they aren’t supposed to do such things.  Oops.  We all had a good laugh over that one.

We had to have our passports at the ready when we exited Bethlehem and reentered Jerusalem.  Soldiers came on board our bus and gave us the once over.  I was glad for that and also glad to have gotten into Bethlehem in the first place because it was closed when I was here last so I didn’t get to see a thing.  But surely, it needs only to be a once in a lifetime experience.

Gillie, our driver, took us back to Jerusalem to see the Old City.  I didn’t realize it’s only six miles between the two cities.  Everything is really close here and every little hill and valley has its own name so it may seem like it’s a different place far away when reading it in the Bible, when really, it might be just a block or two down the street.

Halvor met back up with us and gave us the low-down on the Western Wall of the temple in Jerusalem and then we all got to go say our prayers there or tuck our list into the cracks of the wall.  God promises his eyes and heart will always be there so it’s sacred ground and those requests are thought to be powerful ones.  Kaleb sat on Kory’s shoulders, trying to find a crack that wasn’t already full in order to hold his prayer requests, which included the names of all his unsaved friends, and that “I will become more Christ-like.”  It made me teary-eyed.

We then got a tour of the old market place in Jerusalem and a few other history lessons from Halvor before we got on the bus again and headed out to the campus of his training center on the backside of Jerusalem.  We passed by the “road to Emmaus” on the way.

Halvor and his wife got a “call” from God to set up this Hebrew language school to teach translators “the language of the Bible in the land of the Bible.”  As we have seen this past week, actually being in the Holy Land makes the scriptures more alive.  The majority of Bible translators have never even visited Israel, let alone lived here, so he offers a six month course to help bridge that gap.  Their goal is to get the Old Testament translated too, since most other translators just work on the New Testament.  His wife is a language professor and they operate under the Dept. of Education at the local University.  Halvor does the Biblical geography part of the learning and knows everything there is to know about archeology. He only does a few tours for tourists like us each year.  What a treat that we got him.  Kory and I decided to support his ministry after this, as it’s definitely a much-needed work of the world-wide church.  They get most of their funding from Finland, since his wife is from there (but grew up in Tiberias).   Two years ago a group from Finland shipped them a two-story log cabin kit, then came and assembled it, so now they have a fabulous Scandinavian “hytte” (cabin) as a central meeting place.

Sadly, though, one of their students from Scotland, who has been living in Africa over twenty years and learning a very difficult language there, was killed by the only bomb that’s gone off in Jerusalem in a long while.  It was just two months ago.  She was passing by a bus stop at precisely the wrong moment.  Halvor presided at her memorial service and they haven’t really gotten over the shock of that whole episode yet.  But God had a plan and the fact she was a Bible translator was in the news a lot when she died, so they are hoping some good will come from it.

We left Halvor’s place with a prayer and a song.  Kaleb was thrilled it was his favorite Norwegian song, “Uten deg”, lead by Adrian, the guy that baptized him.  The words, when translated mean, “Without you, I am without hope, but with you I have everything.”  Isn’t that the truth!  And Kaleb was also thrilled that today he got the silver necklace we ordered for him for a baptismal gift – it’s his name in Hebrew – inside the Christian fish symbol.  He is wearing that with much pride, along with the t-shirt he got the other day that he refuses to take off.  He seems genuinely pleased to be here and we are all a bit sad that tomorrow is our last day.

Back Home Again

We visited a little too long this morning for Kaleb’s liking with Kory’s mom’s cousin and his wife, but we managed to make it back to our condo right at noon. Kaleb had already lined up a sleepover at Andre’s and an afternoon playdate with Toban, so he had no patience for our second cup of coffee and the relaxed atmosphere spending time in a mountainside cabin requires. Soon enough we hit the road and drove home through probably the prettiest road I’ve been on in Norway. It’s impossible to take a photo of its grandeur because the mountains just jet up from both sides of the car and no camera has that kind of peripheral vision.




Something happens to my soul when I drive through the Norwegian countryside. I do think the Norwegian half of me has beaten out the Ozark Mountain Hillbilly other half because I feel so at home here and never stop appreciating the beauty of the mountains, the fjords, or the small little farms that dot the coastline. Inland in Norway the farms are huge, the barns are huge, the houses are huge. Years ago, those farms had to support the families year round, but the farms along the coast are much smaller since the sea provided most of the food for the families. It’s such a contrast. (I took this photo today out the car window while going fairly fast… it’s of a little village at the edge of the fjord about an hour away from home.)



It was good to be home. We weren’t in the door two minutes before Tante Kari came up to check on us and find out how our trip was. Kory spent some time with both Tante Aslaug and Kari, telling them all that we did. I unpacked and started the washing machine before driving Kaleb over to his friend’s house. This afternoon, the time was filled up with grocery shopping and household projects. Kory spent more time than he cared to, getting the dishwasher to work, and the pressure was on to finish it before the stores closed and he might need an extra part. I have been blessed this day, for THIS is the day I no longer have to wash dishes by hand. Hallelujah! I shouted out, “Thank you, Jesus!” after the first load got going. Kory replied, “No, my name’s Kory. You can thank Jesus, but I’m the one that installed it.” Ha ha.



Kory also began to assemble the closet we bought for Kaleb’s room last week. I’m hoping to unpack Kaleb’s boxes and thin out his inventory before he comes home tomorrow and starts to remember all that he has here. When Kory unwrapped the closet, he saw one of the pieces was broken so we had to rush it back to the store for a new piece before they closed. While we were there we bought a living room rug and happened to run into one of my old classmates, so I invited her and her family over for dinner Monday, when My Pal Vestina will also be here. We’ll have a little reunion of some of my favorite people from my Norsk class. Woo hoo.



A bigger WOO HOO was when Kaleb called this evening to tell me that he started talking to two of his friends about the “point system” I invented to help him with a little behavioral modification back home. They questioned him on why he needed to do that and he told them it was because it was easier for him to see if he was being “Christ like,” because he’s a Christian. They asked what it meant to be a Christian and he told them that he’d asked Jesus in his heart and he tries to follow Jesus’ example, even though it’s nearly impossible for him. Both of his friends, Toban and Karl-Andreas, kept asking questions that he answered the best he could, until they finally told him that they wanted to have Jesus in their hearts, too. Kaleb said he was a bit surprised and didn’t really know what to do, but he prayed with them and told them to ask for forgiveness and to just invite Jesus into their lives. He said while he was praying for them, he got a “really warm tingling feeling” going from his arms all the way through his body. He was pretty excited to tell me about it, and I couldn’t have been more surprised myself. Our little missionary in Norway – who knew?



Kory and I enjoyed a very typical Norwegian dinner tonight – boiled potatoes, boiled carrots and salmon (baked though, not boiled.) It’s as fast as food can get on the dinner table because he was hungry. Most foods here are boiled or steamed. I was surprised when we cleaned out Aunt Ruth’s things and found that she owned, not one, but five steamers. At first I couldn’t believe it, then I realized you can cook an entire dinner, something different in every pot, just by steaming – steamed lamb, steamed potatoes, steamed broccoli, etc. It made me laugh, but also thankful I’m not THAT Norwegian – we only kept two of them. The other funny thing about her personal effects is that there wasn’t a single coffee mug in the entire house. Mugs are considered rather crass and a bit rude and no one really uses them. Even Norwegians, sitting home alone, will drink a cup of coffee out of a fine china coffee cup (with saucer) that holds less than four ounces. I think they love the process of refilling the cup after nearly every sip. Me, I’ll take a twenty ounce mug of steamin’ joe any ol’ day and drink it until it’s cold. OK, that may be the Ozark Mountain Hillbilly finally rearing its head. Kory will agree, I am a bit crass and rude sometimes, and not just while drinking coffee. But my son, he’s a class act all the way.

It's FRIDAY!

The sunshine came back today! Like Seattle, this weekend is supposed to be incredibly warm and sunny. Woo hoo. It’s a three day weekend here because Sunday is Pentecost Sunday so for some reason, Monday is a holiday, too. Tomorrow all the stores are only open for a few hours and like Easter, everyone goes away for this weekend up to their mountain cabins – except us. It might be pretty boring if we don’t plan something soon. I have been battling a sore throat for the past few days and today it’s taken a turn for the worse, so I hope I’m well enough to enjoy whatever may come our way the next few days.

Usually Fridays are pretty boring in school because The Good Teacher Inga teaches English on Fridays to another class, so we have Lena. Lena is nice enough, but pretty boring. She just gives us our assignments and sits back while we do them. Today however, the assignment was to talk amongst ourselves on whether Norway should tighten their regulations on who they let into this country. Two women in our class nearly got into a fist fight over that discussion. One woman from Brazil said the place where her husband works employs many people from Poland and they do random breathalyzer tests on the employees at 7am and when they do, all of the Polish employees are sent home because they are drunk (at 7am!). She felt people from Poland shouldn’t be allowed here because they don’t respect the laws and they drive drunk, when a Norwegian would NEVER do that. She’s afraid one day she may be killed by a drunk driver from Poland because, she said, “Everyone from Poland is drunk all the time.” Well, those were fightin’ words to the woman in our class that is actually from Poland. I think she would have been OK if it was said that MANY people from Poland are drunk MOST of the time, but the fact the woman from Brazil wouldn’t back down on that absolute statement she made really created a ruckus. I couldn’t believe that Lena let the fight go on so long as they began to call each other names and it was getting ugly. But the fact is, the polish people come here to do the work no one else wants to do. Norway has open borders with all countries in the EU and all are welcome here if they can find a job. Kory works with a lot of guys from Poland and he said they rarely show up to work or they show up late. One guy he works with just got arrested and put in jail for drug possession, so they don’t exactly have a good reputation, but the blanket generalizations made today were a bit much. Then we got on the discussion about the difference between refugees who come from war torn lands with nothing but the clothes on their backs and the asylum seekers who SAY they are being persecuted in their own land, but sometimes that is not the case, and they come here just to live off the system. There are huge groups of immigrants now in Norway, all here for different reasons, and all of them have changed the culture drastically in many way - unfortunately, mostly for the worse. But there’s no going back now. The floodgates have opened and they even let in folks like us! (There was a funny episode of The Simpsons a friend sent to me that was about the influx of all the immigrants to Mexico and the idea of building a wall to keep them out, except they used mid-western Norwegian farmers as a substitute for the Mexicans in conveying their message. I guess they felt that was the only group of people who wouldn’t take offense to being poked fun at in that way, as Norwegians do like to make fun of themselves.)

Kory spent his day over at Odd’s working on the remodel and then tonight he went to Filadelfia Church to see a big YWAM year end drama production. (I wanted to go but didn’t want to give others my germs.) Kaleb spent the afternoon over at his friend Henrik’s house, who lives down by his school. Ironically, Henrik used to live in The Sinking Houses, but had to move. Henrik and several other boys from school got the new Nintendo Pokemon game that was released this week, so Kaleb has been chomping at the bit to buy it himself, but in the meantime, he’s taken up with playing his friend’s version. He only came home to eat dinner and was right back over at Henrik’s house, then called at 9pm asking if he could sleep over. I’m sure he won’t sleep a wink, but it is a three day weekend, so it’s fine with me. I’m so thankful he has friends. And I noticed yesterday when we were at school watching him sing with the other fourth graders that he stood with all his friends, and they were the only boys standing still. All the boys in his class that he told me he avoids were all standing in a group together with about three teachers standing guard, constantly pointing fingers at them, separating them and once even putting one behind the bleachers because he wouldn’t behave. I am so proud that Kaleb has chosen friends that don’t get into trouble and that do well in school.

My computer died a second death today. I think it’s God way of breaking my addiction to it. I need to work on more self-control so these lessons aren’t so painful.