On this Fourth Sunday of Advent, as we draw near to Christmas, let’s become cave people! Not Neanderthals or “Complain About Virtually Everything” (CAVE acronym) people, but people of the cave at Bethlehem, the crèche, the nativity scene! If you visit Bethlehem, the traditional site of the birth of Christ is a cave. Caves are common in the rocky area of Bethlehem, and people used them as we use our barns, to house their animals. So it is quite probable that the nativity scene was indeed a cave.
Rather than get lost in details, my point is to focus on the nativity scene this week, rather than on the tree or presents or all the other things. There is such a beauty and power to looking at the humble scene of Christ’s birth, his poverty, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Joseph, the shepherds and animals adoring, and the angels singing above. The credit of the tradition of the devotion of the nativity scene really should go to St. Francis of Assisi who seems to have begun the practice. Pope Francis wrote about this in a beautiful apostolic letter a couple years ago Admirabile Signum, “On the Meaning and Importance of the Nativity Scene.” It is worth reading. I quote part of it in the paragraphs following:
But let us go back to the origins of the Christmas crèche so familiar to us. We need to imagine ourselves in the little Italian town of Greccio, near Rieti. Saint Francis stopped there, most likely on his way back from Rome where on 29 November 1223 he had received the confirmation of his Rule from Pope Honorius III. Francis had earlier visited the Holy Land, and the caves in Greccio reminded him of the countryside of Bethlehem. It may also be that the “Poor Man of Assisi” had been struck by the mosaics in the Roman Basilica of Saint Mary Major depicting the birth of Jesus, close to the place where, according to an ancient tradition, the wooden panels of the manger are preserved.
The Franciscan Sources describe in detail what then took place in Greccio. Fifteen days before Christmas, Francis asked a local man named John to help him realize his desire “to bring to life the memory of that babe born in Bethlehem, to see as much as possible with my own bodily eyes the discomfort of his infant needs, how he lay in a manger, and how, with an ox and an ass standing by, he was laid upon a bed of hay”. At this, his faithful friend went immediately to prepare all that the Saint had asked. On 25 December, friars came to Greccio from various parts, together with people from the farmsteads in the area, who brought flowers and torches to light up that holy night. When Francis arrived, he found a manger full of hay, an ox and a donkey. All those present experienced a new and indescribable joy in the presence of the Christmas scene. The priest then solemnly celebrated the Eucharist over the manger, showing the bond between the Incarnation of the Son of God and the Eucharist. At Greccio there were no statues; the nativity scene was enacted and experienced by all who were present.
This is how our tradition began: with everyone gathered in joy around the cave, with no distance between the original event and those sharing in its mystery.
Thomas of Celano, the first biographer of Saint Francis, notes that this simple and moving scene was accompanied by the gift of a marvellous vision: one of those present saw the Baby Jesus himself lying in the manger. From the nativity scene of that Christmas in 1223, “everyone went home with joy”.
With the simplicity of that sign, Saint Francis carried out a great work of evangelization. His teaching touched the hearts of Christians and continues today to offer a simple yet authentic means of portraying the beauty of our faith.
End quote. If the nativity so moved St. Francis and those around him, it also can be so for us today. Let’s be cave people—nativity people—as we come to adore the newborn king!
Peace,
Fr. Greg