The Prophecy of the City

But you, Bethlehem-Ephrathah too small to be among the clans of Judah, From you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel; Whose origin is from of old, from ancient times.

God chose Bethlehem. God chose a small town--a very small town, in fact, small enough to be noted as small in a small nation like Israel.

Not Rome, the capital of the western world at the time. Not even Jerusalem or Athens or Cairo. Not Paris or London or Shanghai or New York. We don't have to go there to find God.

God chose a town, where people live, not some lofty mountain retreat or exclusive private island. Christ doesn't count waterfalls and beaches and canyons as his birthplace. He's from a town. Like most of us, really. Just a town.

There is meaning there, not just random chance. Small communities are important. Big cities are, too, and beautiful vistas and mountaintops as well. But as humans, we need small communities. Big enough, fertile enough, to sustain us, but not so big as to lose our humanity. Yes, I live in a big city, especially compared to Bethlehem at the time of Christ's birth, but within this big city I live in a small neighborhood. I have smaller communities around me that sustain my family and myself. Small is good. Small keeps you honest because everyone knows your story. Small keeps you human because the shopkeeper you berate today sits behind you at church tomorrow.

Monasteries are not small towns, but at one point in history they were the sustaining force in many places. St. Benedict writes that it is the monk that lives in a community that is choosing the right path--wanderers and vagrants don't have what it takes to live a true Christian life, and hermits are only successful after a lifetime of living in community.

God wants us to be together. Connections with those around us, both with close friends and acquaintances and that same face in the check out lane at Schnucks, are key to the human experience. Christ didn't descend from a mountaintop fully grown and ready to convert sinners. He grew up in small towns. Everybody knew who he was. There is a holiness in that (and yes, sometimes a stifling nature to it too). He did go away by himself again and again. But his roots were in a small place.

A small place, but a populated one.