The writer, a native of Sullivan's Island, SC, is a Bible scholar and
translator who lives in Bethlehem.

Around Christmas time, the Judean Hills surrounding Bethlehem suddenly turn
cold and grey. Towards evening, as the sun begins to set over the church
towers and minarets, smoke from the olive wood cooking-fires in the nearby
Palestinian refugee camps and villages circles above the flat stone roofs of
the little town. By dusk, the swirling smoke has turned into a golden mist
as it catches the last reflected light from the Herodion, a man-made
mountain a few miles east of Bethlehem, designed by Herod the Great to serve
as his palace, fortress, and tomb.

Almost thirty years ago, on a cold wintry Christmas morning, I listened half
in disbelief as Israel Radio forecast snow, as if to prove the Christmas
cards somehow got it right all along. It is fashionable to debunk Christmas,
and the date of Christmas, including the snow, makes an easy target.
However, the recent completion of the publication of the Dead Sea Scrolls
has revealed some surprises. Included in the printed volumes of the scrolls
produced by the Essene community at Qumran, discovered in 1947 and declared
to be the greatest archaeological find of the century, is their calendar. In
it is the schedule of the priests serving the Temple at the time of Jesus'
birth. According to the calendar, the priestly division of Abijah, to which
John the Baptist's father Zechariah belonged (Lk 1:5), served twice a year:
from the 8th to the 14th of the third month, and from the 24th to the 30th
of the eighth month. This last date came at the end of September and
coincides with the Byzantine feast of the Conception of John the Baptist on
the 23rd of September, nine months before his birth on June the 24th. The
"sixth month" (Lk 1:26) after John's conception falls on March the 25th, the
Feast of the Annunciation when Mary conceived Jesus, exactly nine months
before December the 25th, the time-honored traditional date of Christmas.
 

After listening to the early morning news, I made my way through the
Bethlehem market, where once a week the Arab fellahin bring their village
produce, to the church of Nativity. At the eastern end of the church, below the
main altar, I paused as I descended the short flight of steps leading into
the cave marking what Jerome, who translated the Bible in the cave next
door, called "the holiest spot on earth". I remembered Chesterton's quip
that this was the only infant in the history of the world who chose his own
mother. Here in this dark humble abode was the heart of Christianity. For if
Jerusalem was its theological capitol, Bethlehem was its spiritual capitol.
 

It was Christmas morning, I kept thinking, but not only was there no
Christmas decoration inside the basilica, there was no one to be seen - or
so I thought. For when I reached the bottom step that led into the cave - I
witnessed something that puzzled me even further. Here was perhaps the
oldest church in Christendom, marking the birth of Jesus, but apart from
seeing one or two Christian worshipers, I was amazed to discover three
Muslim Palestinian peasants prostrating themselves before the silver star
bearing the Latin inscription HIC DE VIRGINE MARIA JESUS CHRISTUS NATUS EST
(Here of the Virgin Mary Jesus Christ was born).
 

The discovery was doubly surprising: not only were these Palestinian
peasants in a Christian holy place, but they were veiled Muslim women. Why
would Muslims want to pray in this ancient church? Weren’t Christians the
enemy and rival of Muslims - and vice versa? This was the impression I was
given in my world history class at Porter Military Academy, and even later
on during my undergraduate years at The Citadel, I only came across Islam in
the bloody wars of the Crusades.

After I had lived and traveled in the Middle East for several years, I began
to find answers to some of these questions. First of all, I learned that
Islam, unlike Judaism, recognizes Jesus as the Virgin-born Messiah. This
perhaps explains why in Beit Ommar, a Palestinian village a few miles south
of Bethlehem on the road to Hebron, the mosque is named after Matthew, one
of the two evangelists who narrates the Christmas story. Even more
surprising was Pope John Paul II's recent Middle Eastern pilgrimage to
Damascus to visit the tomb of John the Baptist, venerated by both Christians
and Muslims, inside what is called the Jesus Mosque.
 

The links that bind Christianity and Islam are so deep and so intertwined,
that the more I learned about them, the more the occasional conflicts began
to seem like a family squabble rather than an irreconcilable clash between
two civilizations. In the seventh century, when Eastern Christians were
first confronted by Muslim armies, they assumed that Islam was merely a
Semitic form of Christianity. Islam accepts much of the Old and New
Testaments, obeys the Law of Moses about circumcision and ablutions, and
venerates Jesus. The Koran calls him the Word of God and Messiah. It shares
too the Orthodox and Catholic doctrine of the perpetual virginity of Mary
and accepts all the ancient Jewish prophets.
 

In Bethlehem, Christians and Muslims have lived side by side in harmony for
centuries. There is no Muslim Quarter or Christian Quarter as in Jerusalem.
In fact, Bethlehem is probably the only place in the world where Christians
and Muslims share Christmas celebrations together, and this year with the
overlapping of Eid Al Fitr at the end of the Ramadan fast, the Muslim feasts
as well.
 

As one young Bethlehem tour guide commented, "We know how to celebrate
together, because we know how to weep together. We have suffered as one
people under 35 years of Occupation. The same week that Mary, a Muslim
mother of seven, was killed in Beit Jala, Johnny, a 17-year old, died in
Manger Square as he was coming out of the Church of the Nativity, both shot
by Israeli snipers. We're all inmates together, Muslims and Christians, in
the same miserable prison called Palestine. We have no freedom, no peace, no
jobs, no money for winter heating, no travel to Jerusalem or between towns
and villages, no future. Sharon thinks he's a cowboy, and we are the
Indians!"
 

When Muhammad entered Mecca in triumph and ordered the destruction of all
idols and images, he came upon a picture of the Virgin and Child inside the
Ka’ba, the shrine Muslims believe Abraham built. Reverently covering the
icon with his cloak, he ordered all other images to be destroyed, but
carefully preserved the icon of Mary and the Infant Jesus, which one of my
former students assures me he himself saw inside the Ka'ba while on
pilgrimage to Mecca.
 

As I was leaving the Grotto of the Nativity that cold Christmas day so many
years ago, I noticed on the right side at a lower level the place where the
manger once lay. I could not leave without first offering a prayer for my
family back on Sullivan's Island and for all the families here in the Holy
Land who have suffered so much for so long, whether Christian, Muslim, or
Jewish. For none can approach God here below except by kneeling before the
manger at Bethlehem and adoring him in the mystery and weakness of a little
child.
From Joe Sobran, Washington, DC