[Note: At St. John the Baptist Episcopal Church in Lodi, for the fourth Sunday of Advent, we were asked to create a nativity scene (also known as a creche). My nativity scene came out as a poem, drawing on experiences we had 10 years ago when we made pilgrimage to the Holy Land.]
Nativity, native, natal, nature, natural, nascence.
There is so much to this story we simply do not know.
We know at least that there was a birth.
1. Journey
Teen-aged girl and thoughtful craftsman,
Holy couple, travelling by foot
Through poky province of Roman Empire.
Raised in country honey-combed
With limestone grottos, cave dwellers
From small town in hill country of Galilee.
Walked ninety miles until they reached Bethlehem,
Fifteen thousand paces per day
(About distance from Lodi to Santa Cruz).
Bethlehem, that’s where they ended up:
Ancient, fertile place of bread,
Home of ancestors, back to David and beyond.
2 Manger
As a destination, Bethlehem has its disadvantages.
No vacancies: Instead, they are stuck with the animals,
Staying in cave behind house.
We don’t know how the labor went,
But when baby came they improvised,
Like new parents must do:
Manger, feeding trough for farm animals.
Clean enough: Off the damp cave floor
Away from rodents and rot.
3 Star
We don’t know how long they stayed there underground
Or where they were when the star found them,
I like to imagine: supernova out of Andromeda.
Luke says local sheep herders, working nightshift,
Keeping their flocks safe, saw it first, heard angelsong,
Came down from hills to learn what it announced.
Music of cosmos in their ears, astronomers,
Ancient and modern, still search for it.
They give gifts they have, still seek its meaning.
-Robert Elliott, Lodi, December 2025
Mary's Cave, Nazareth
