Last weekend saw the final two productions this season of Fort Assiniboine’s Journey to Bethlehem, an outdoor pageant celebrating the Nativity. More than 100 volunteers contributed to the drama, from actors to stagehands, along with live animals. Visitors became part of the production as they were guided past several stops. Last Saturday, the Barrhead Leader joined one of the tour parties, which set off from the Catholic Church after being entertained by the Joyful Melody Trio. Here is an account of the journey:
It has been a challenging two-day journey, trudging through the snow. Feet are cold, limbs weary, nerves frayed.
All we want to do is rest, we being the Benhadad family. There are 16 of us, spanning two or three generations, from little ones to grandparents.
Thank God for our guide, Rachel. Without her, I don’t know where we would be. Wandering aimlessly, I imagine, prey to gangs of robbers, or split up by the Romans, the children sold as slaves.
Now we are entering Bethlehem beneath a starry sky and our spirits are lifting. There are hopeful lights flickering ahead. Surely our ordeal is nearly over.
Yet as we go through the gates some menacing Roman guards emerge from the shadows, clad in red tunics, helmets, shields and mail breastplates.
They brandish javelins as if they would think nothing about spearing us for entertainment.
We tell them we have come to pay taxes.
“Aren’t you a bit late?” they scoff.
Reluctantly they let us pass and I am shocked when Rachel mocks their bravado. Why goad these power-crazed brutes? Let’s get out of here without any trouble.
They hear her scorn, but let us continue with a warning. Phew, another close call.
Barely a minute later some strange man accosts us out of the dark, claiming to be a prophet, uttering bewildering words.
“Old man, leave them alone,” one of the soldier calls.
Ahead is a fire and beside it stand three young shepherds watching over their flock. They are friendly and chatty, saying they have heard about the miraculous birth of the Messiah. Is that what the old man was talking about?
We try to process the news as we blunder on through the bitter cold.
A lighted inn looms out of the dark. Ah, warmth at last, a chance to lie down.
Rachel knocks and a woman’s face appears, framed by a pink and white headdress. She is bundled up more fully than any of us. Won’t she take pity? Inside I hear a man’s complaining voice.
There is no room, the woman tells us abruptly. Rachel, bless her, is persistent.
We are freezing cold, she appeals, we are desperately tired, we are hungry, we need to lay our heads.
But the woman is unyielding and slams the door shut.
“Thanks,” says Rachel. “Thanks for nothing.”
And so on we tread, fighting past beggars before coming to the tax office. It may be warm inside, but the reception is anything but.
The tax collector is cold. He is mean, grumpy, pesky – all those sorts of things. He counts the shekels that Rachel hands him and explodes with rage, accusing us of short-changing him.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demands.
He threatens to send the children into slavery.
Rachel pleads our case, saying we have nothing left to give, but I fear the worst. Roman guards roam the room, issuing threats, seemingly eager to do the tax collector’s bidding. We are done for, I think.
There is a terrible pause … and then the taxman waves us away, as if suddenly bored with us. It must have been a long night for him as well.
Another close call. Perhaps the closest of them all, but now we are free to investigate the shepherds’ reports.
Soon we see angels glowing in the dark like harbingers of a miracle, suggesting this is a starry night like none other.
Rachel leads us to the inn where we are welcomed by radiant smiles. Before us in a haze of light are a man, a woman and a baby; next to them is a donkey.
It is warm and we linger a while, silently watching mother and child, taking in the wondrous scene. Surely, this is the real reason we came.
With hearts overflowing, we return to the snow and the icy dark. We pass through a market and encounter three wise kings who came from afar, bearing gifts for the newborn child.
A few minutes later Rachel bids farewell and disappears into the night. Another guide takes over … and we pass through two millennia until the present day.
Our journey to Bethlehem was over.
