Christmas Every Week: Bethlehem Pilgrimage
Arnold Kellett wrote this poem following a visit to the Church of the Holy Nativity in Bethlehem after noticing Arab Christian children walking through the very low doorway.
To see the place where Christ was born
You have to stoop so low!
Through tiny door and gloomy cave
The humbled pilgrims go,
Then crouch to touch the silver star
That marks the very place
Where Mary bore the unique flesh,
The fount of truth and grace ...
The children freely enter in,
No need have they to bend;
But we are old in years and sin,
And need to comprehend
That Bethlehem leaves no place for pride:
The God of starry skies
Has touched the earth in tender love -
And cut us down to size!
How vain the Christmas spending-spree,
The over-lavish table!
God works through simple souls who see
A baby in a stable.
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