written record, and is well-developed in the earliest literature. As for Bethlehem versus Nazareth, that conundrum isnât really so difficult. We all understand that a birthplace and a hometown can be different places.
Stephen presents scholar Raymond Brownâs suggestion that Christology developed retrospectively, beginning with the cross, and moving back toward the birth. âThe idea of objective historyis a Western Enlightenment idea that we often mistakenly apply to Scripture.â I glance at Shane and notice that heâs scowling. My heart softens. Stephenâs lecture is not new material to me, but I remember when I learned all this and found it threatening. Biblical criticism is a lot to absorb, especially if youâre already overloaded by the sights and smells and people of the Holy Land.
âThe upshot?â Stephen says. âAfter you balance faith and history â the Gospels, the Epistles, and the tradition â Bethlehem is a reasonable answer to the question of where was Jesus born.â
Then come some easy facts. Beth-lehem means âhouse of breadâ in Hebrew. The fourteen-point star is a symbol of Bethlehem because Jesusâ genealogy is recounted in three groups of fourteen generations in Matthew 1:17. It is a pleasure to write down these undisputed facts.
We board the bus for the five-mile trip to Bethlehem. As usual, we documentary folk sit in the back of the bus. âSo, what did you think of the lecture?â JoAnne asks Shane.
âWhy do you ask?â he responds.
âBecause it reminded me of seminary, I guess. Itâs not every day you hear a lecture like that. So I wondered what that was like for you.â
âWhy? Because I havenât been to seminary?â Shane says. âIâll tell you what. I donât think any of this is as hard as people make it out to be.â
âThe Bible is compli â â JoAnne begins, but Shane cuts her off.
âMaybe Iâll never go to seminary. I donât have to. Iâm already doing ministry.â Shaneâs voice has an edge.
âGood for you,â says JoAnne. âYouâre doing what you want to do.â
Thereâs a little lull as people let go of the conversation and turn back to their seatmates. âWhen you went to seminary,â I ask Michael, âdid they dismantle everything you thought you believed?â
He grins. âThey sure did.â
âItâs good to know the Lutherans do that, too,â I say.
Stephen gets on the busâs loudspeaker to alert us to the factthat weâre passing through Gehenna Valley, which was the cityâs original garbage dump. In the Bible itâs referred to as a place thatâs constantly burning, a place where the outcasts scavenged a living. Itâs significant because it gave birth to Scriptureâs Gehenna/hell imagery. The bus windows are open, but I donât notice any overpowering odors, which is disappointing. I have a good nose and had hoped to catch the stench of hell itself. But Iâve smelled much worse in New York City during garbage workersâ strikes.
The bus winds through city streets and then suburbs, never leaving greater Jerusalem before we arrive at the Wall of Separation between Israel and the West Bank. We are armed with our passports. A teenager in a dark green uniform and black beret boards the bus carrying a rifle in both hands. He strides down the aisle, swinging his head from side to side for a cursory glance at our papers. He doesnât stop to examine anything. When he passes me, I notice that his cheeks are peach-fuzzed.
The bus gets the go-ahead and begins to move. Camera Michael scrambles in front of me to film out my window. We both strain and crane as we roll past the barrier. The Wall stretches twice as high as our bus and casts a long shadow, both literally and figuratively. It is an obstruction that demarcates inside from outside, Israeli from
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