“O Little Town of Bethlehem” has always been a must-be-sung Xmas Carol, ever since it was written in 1868 by Phillips Brooks, an Episcopal Priest from Philadelphia. However, the sweet, lilting melody and the serenity of the town as painted by the lyrics are in harsh contradict to the history of Bethlehem. Going back some 1300 years before Christ, up to the very present, Bethlehem has been the center of war and destruction. Now administered by the Palestinian Authority it is caught in the middle of a myriad destructive forces.
Perhaps that is the very reason Jesus chose to be born there.
What of the little town of Bethlehem
birthplace of the boy-not-to-be-king
Little town broken
like the boy-became-man broken on a cross
Little town divided
like clothing divided among soldiers
Little town empty
but not empty like the empty tomb
empty as lifeless-empty, lonely-empty
Have your shepherds fled to Saudi, the Sudan or the valleys above Peshawar
are your poets buying shares in the smart weapons, tanks, missiles, ‘copters
did your prophets become collateral damage and leave their blood
in the dry desert sand
where are the angels if not become specters of death
in the land of old and new crusades
the star of Bethlehem rises now from the west
grimy and blackened from myriad Kuwaiti oil fires
The manger filled, but with stones for the throwing against
armour-plated jeeps firing canisters of gas from the US of A
Tell me of the songs of ancient Bethlehem sung now in
desecrated streets of Beirut and Baghdad
Do they speak of hope and glory, quiet and peace or
are they the marching songs of retribution and revenge
Little One of Bethlehem
what have we done to you
how have you offended us
that we should so crucify you again
When will you rise again
When will the lamb sit down with the lion
The shepherd with the arms trader
the Arab with the Jew, the Christian with the Muslim
When will the dividing wall come down and
Little town of Bethlehem be whole
songs of peace in glad streets
star rising in the east
prophets, poets and kings telling of joy
as yet not imagined
When will the tomb be empty … again?
Your powerful, poignant, but most of all, true and evidenced-based poem
Hit me where it really hurt. Because it blew wide open the lid of what ‘we the people’
Want so much to remain unseen unheard : what has happened to this Little Town of Bethlehem,
And just how many of us bother to visit it now, even just in Our imagination.
‘Leave the song as it is, as it was in the beginning, is now and ever will be.’
Every one will be at peace, undisturbed, happy to sing it…….
Thank you Tony for another thought provoking (did I say ‘soul—wrenching’) reflection .
I feel a bit guilty for no having had enough to find/read it before or during the Holy Season.
For not having had the opportunity to digest it, and shared it with friends and fellow searchers.
But I will , it is not too late, it is never too late to catch up with oneself, if and we/ I dare.
Your powerful, poignant, but most of all, true and evidenced-based poem
Hit me where it really hurt. Because it blew wide open the lid of what ‘we the people’
Want so much to remain unseen unheard : what has happened to this Little Town of Bethlehem,
And just how many of us bother to visit it now, even just in Our imagination.
‘Leave the song as it is, as it was in the beginning, is now and ever will be.’
Every one will be at peace, undisturbed, happy to sing it…….
Thank you Tony for another thought provoking (did I say ‘soul—wrenching’) reflection .
I feel a bit guilty for no having had enough to find/read it before or during the Holy Season.
For not having had the opportunity to digest it, and shared it with friends and fellow searchers.
But I will , it is not too late, it is never too late to catch up with oneself, if and we/ I dare.
There is reference in the poem to the Kuwaiti oil fires; this is the pointer to the verse being written in 1991. It is only now that I am sharing it.
Every year at Christmas I reflect on this verse, every year I shun that Christmas Carol! Every year I ponder on the Innocents slaughtered by Herod.
Every year I ponder on the disaster of humanity that exists in Lebanon and the Gaza and Syria and … so on.
Every year at Christmas I re-visit the first poem I wrote upon moving from Legazpi to Cubao/Mariposa in 1983: “Christmas Song of the Slum Dweller”, published in my book “From Both Sides Now”.
I sought this Christmas to write about creative endeavors and positive movements amid the world of COVID 19, for I have hope and refuse dominant ground to the negatives in the world.
Yet, there is this struggle within and the good words refuse to flow easily at this time!
Rather it was time for Bethlehem to be recognized and its reality clearly revealed. Hopeful we may well be, but there is another type of darkness in choosing to dress out illusions with holly and tinsel.
At the same time, evidence of an internal struggle, I was determined to follow the wisdom of Monty Python and “Look on the bright side of life”.
What resulted was a photo essay type-of-thing about seagulls.
You can read/see this in the article Winged Freedom.
Let us salute a New Year!