Moving On

Saturday night we had the opportunity to experience something like a Nativity Walk, except it was much more extensive and it didn’t just focus on the nativity scene. We went with quite a big group from our church to a nearby church that transforms its building for the purpose of taking you through the true meaning of Christmas story. Our smaller group of sixteen was given the tribal name Benjamin, meaning raucous wolf, and we met our tour guide – a Roman centurion. He brought us to hear the prophet Isaiah foretell the coming of a Savior, then to see Mary when she learned that she would be the mother of the Messiah. We went with her to visit her cousin Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist and we eavesdropped on their conversation.

As we continued our journey we met a cranky old Census Taker who complained about the crowded streets of Bethlehem and a much nicer Innkeeper who spoke of having no room in his inn.

We stopped at his inn for a meal of pita bread, cheese, and grape juice before patronizing the Marketplace. We were given eight gold coins to spend in the marketplace which had a bakery (we sampled barley, the poor man’s food, with honey on top), a candy shop (where Dave spent most of his coins on their fudge), a carpentry shop where kids could make dreidels, a candle shop where I made this candle, and a potter’s shop where I made a stand for my candle (yes, the candle is in a sad state, I know, and that's with about 40 dips and a sore elbow). You could also choose to do weaving, repair fish nets, weights and measures, or visit the scribe to write your name in Hebrew. Background music was being played on the santour. There was a spice and herb shop where we got to see, touch, and smell frankincense and myrrh (among many other herbs and spices). Both of us were hit up by the tax collector and D said he lost a few coins to some beggars. Figures. No beggars came up to me… Dave was enjoying the music (and interrogating the musicians about their instruments) so much so that he didn’t hear our tribe being called and missed meeting the shepherds out in the field who were told by an angel that a Savior had been born.

David was still enjoying the music in the marketplace when the rest of our group found the baby in a manger with Mary and Joseph. The poor baby had been there for hours already and was a bit cranky, but exceptionally adorable all wrapped up in swaddling clothes like baby Jesus would have been. This was when D finally made an appearance and wanted to stay so he could experience what he had missed with another tribe. He couldn’t though because we carpooled with other people. This church did a phenomenal job making everything as real-life as possible and everyone who went thoroughly enjoyed the experience. I’m even debating whether or not to get D a santour for his birthday.