I was curious as to what I was going to write about for my next entry, especially since I know a few people get worried if I don't post something for a few days. But the last few days have been filled with only endless hours of computer work, donor letter writing, etc. Then this afternoon I needed to get out of the center and purchase a few things (both computer related of course.) I grabbed Areej from her office since she always needs to get out of the building as well and hopped in Khaled's car, driven by his son Iman, for Bethlehem.

After making our purchases we strolled up the hill, past the crazy mass of yellow six-door and mini-van taxi's and up a wide set of stone steps that took us between two buildings and up into the main square. We were headed here to go to the best falafel place in Bethlehem for lunch, a small basement establishment where you buy the falafel first from a man standing outside the door.   But we took a slight detour. I realized that I had been here in the Bethlehem area for 6 weeks and had yet to set foot in the nativity church.

Having grown up Christian, I know the stories of Jesus' birth but it didn't quite settle in to my brain that I was going there when we ducked through the low stone hole-like entrance. I had actually just learned yesterday that the Nativity Church was where his birthplace is. Putting aside all my issues and moral conundrums with religion over the past quarter of a century, its still kind of mind-boggling to step into this church. I had a friend send me a question the other day about being in the "holy land". Before today I answered that question as the "holy land" much differently in looking out over the refugee camps and up into the hills where the settlements sit.

No matter my own feelings about religion and Christianity that have been a part of my life, no matter how I now feel more connection to the word spirituality than religion and especially relate to the Mayan spirituality that celebrates a connection to nature, there was something different in the air when I entered that sacred space. I cant deny my upbringing, I cant overlook that my father was a minister, I cant undo the thousands of times that I have heard the Christmas story, no matter where I am now in my journey or what I believe.

There were a few other people walking, staring, sitting, and taking pictures around the first large sanctuary that we had just ducked into. After walking through the sanctuary, sparsely adorned with large stone columns on either side and getting a little bit different of a tour guide history from Areej than I am sure many people get since she pointed out the first of many bullet holes that we would see near the ceiling from when the Palestinian fighters were driven into the church in 2002 for forty days surrounded by Israeli tanks and soldiers, we neared the entrance to the place of Jesus' birth. A man in flowing black robes with a healthy long black beard was selling fabrics and candles near the entrance. There also was a spot to pick up simple brown wax candles like the ones I was used to seeing in the ceremonies in Guatemala though we never had brown ones. I slid two shekels into the donation box and grabbed two candles. Handing one to Areej, I contemplated the rough hewn stone door. We lit the candles and put them into a bowl on water and sand that already had several candles buried in it. As Areej lit her candle, she whispered, "For Palestine." Her words, barely audible, reached deep down into my heart. What did it mean for Areej (who has professed many times to me and others her non-religious stance) to whisper those words in a church with so much history? Then we walked down the circular arc of stairs and through the entry.

I never had any expectations of what that place would look like and I'm sure that it has changed significantly as the church has sprung up around it. My footsteps echoed down the curving stairs. Several others were sitting quietly in the space around the one little fireplace-esque marble altar in the small cave. I still can't really describe the place or the feelings in this sacred space.

We walked around to other parts of the church and finally made our way out to finally get lunch while discussing faith, religion, the soldiers firing bullets into the walls of the church, Allah, God, Dios, holy wars and a slew of other topics...

Where to go from here?