Christmas in Palestine
Dear All,
Several years ago, for one of my masters thesis I travelled to Israel/ Palestine in December. Now, I know there is significant debate among my readers (those I know personally anyway) on the veracity of the story that has shaped how we celebrate Christmas today in the UK; but given the season I hoped you would indulge me in some early Palestinian architectural musings.
Bethlehem looks a little different to how this Norfolk born and raised girl imagined it- far fewer sheep and flat green fields, much more desert, tight stone streets and stony ground. The warfare and disquiet is still there though- even 2,000 years after the story of Roman conquest and dominance that led to the nativity plays we still suffer through, I mean, enjoy today.
But this is a little besides the point. The sites that are marked with great solemnity around the West Bank as the sites of Jesus’ life stories were largely discovered by Constantine the Great’s mother in about 300CE. I don’t doubt that Jesus was born/ crucified in roughly these areas but whether the exact location should really be marked with a brass star…
There is so much emotion and hope and conflict around these stories and these places. Never have I know architecture more emotionally charged, the walls of these cities practically throb with it.
In our rather stripped back and isolated Christmas in 2020 I thought we all needed a little bit more hope though, so I will save you any more musings on the designation of sacred space or conflict in the West Bank and instead turn to a wonderful hypothesis I read in Dr Kenneth Bailey’s book ‘Jesus through Middle Eastern eyes’ (which is on my shelf because I aspire to be the sort of person that finishes books like this).
The story we all know and have seen acted out so many times is of Joseph and Mary arriving in Bethlehem only to be told there is no room in the inn, so they shelter in a stable with the animals and Jesus is born there and placed in a manger. Dr Bailey hypothesises that actually this part of the story is less bleak and lonely than this sounds- largely due to a western misinterpretation of first century Palestinian architecture. (Which is why I love this book despite having not made it past the first chapter!)
According to Dr Bailey (and a couple of articles on J Stor), first century Palestinian village housing (such as that probably owned by Joseph’s family in Bethlehem) were usually comprised of one or two rooms: there was always a split level room for the family to live in with the lower half of the room for the livestock; and in those houses large enough to have a second room it was entered separately and used for guests.
The split level single room not only helped you to keep an eye on your most precious, usually four legged, possessions but also allowed you to benefit from their heat in the cold December nights. This lower space was then cleaned out and used by the family during the day when the animals were outside. Mangers for animal feed were often dug out at the edge of the top platform- at cow/ donkey head height. Houses were usually constructed from readily available materials such as hammered fieldstones or built out from caves in the rocky hills.
The Greek word in the text that is usually translated into English as ‘inn’ (and therefore forced far too many 5 year olds to act as inn-keepers) is katalyma- meaning ‘a place to stay’ or ‘guest room’. The word for a commercial lodging house would apparently more likely be pandocheion.
Given this understanding of the Greek it seems that whilst Jesus was still placed in a manger and among animals he was not alone and friendless, his teenage mother was not without support. In a culture where a two roomed house gives one room entirely over to guests it must surely be unthinkable that a woman would be left to give birth alone? Instead, Bailey’s reading of the Greek paints a picture of Jesus being born into a room filled with family, at the heart of a community and in the centre of daily life. Personally this idea fills me with more hope and genuine feeling than the thought of a town that banished a young woman to a distant stable block to suffer birth alone- no matter how profound a theological point that may or may not make.
For a much lighter and infinitely more fun interpretation of the nativity do watch The Goes Wrong Show's nativity which had me cackling at the TV last night.
I hope your Christmas (or winter break however you celebrate it) is as wonderful, restful and restorative as possible and that you keep safe.
Until next time!
Eleanor