We visited the Church of the Annunciation in Nazareth.  The basilica is where the Roman Catholic church believes that Mary was visited by the angel Gabriel.  It was built in 1969 on the site of older Crusader era and even older Byzantine churches, the ruins of which are still visible, where originally a shrine had been erected in the 4th century in the cave where Mary had supposedly lived.  The basilica features depictions of Mary from many different cultures and nations that celebrate the mother of the Son of God.

“And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favour with God. And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name JESUS.” Luke 1:30-31

Photos from the Church of the Annunciation in Nazareth

We also visited the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem which is one of the oldest continuously operating Christian churches in the world.  It is built over the cave that is traditionally held to be the stable where Jesus was born.  We descended into the cave itself where there is a shrine marking the supposed spot.

“And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.” - Luke 2:7

Photos from Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem

After the Church of the Nativity, we headed out to the Shepherds field east of Bethlehem in Beit Sahour, believed by many Christians to be the very fields where the shepherds beheld the heavenly hosts announcing and praising the birth of the Christ nearby in Bethlehem. The fields are still riddled with ancient caves, and there were still shepherds with their sheep visible on the surrounding slopes and in the valley below.

“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.” – Luke 2:8-11

Photos from the Shepherds Field in Beit Sahour near Bethlehem

A very, very merry Christmas to all of you from the Wilson family!

The Savior’s Lemonade
Originally written August 8th, 2005

I am not a big fan of hot weather. In fact, I spend a good deal of summertime wishing it were springtime or fall-time. However, there is one thing that happens only in summer that makes the heat worth it to me: I love to see children sitting out on street corners, under umbrellas conscripted to parasol service and makeshift signs, selling lemonade, soda, cookies, or whatever.

While I have no specific memories of selling snacks on corners, I vaguely remember that I did so. But it is not the connection to my own childhood I love as much as it is a joy in the simple, honest, hope that shines in the beautiful faces of the relatively innocent as they peddle their wares–and the pained look of frustration at every single vehicle that passes without stopping to buy–and the renewed enthusiasm a single waylaid traveler brings.

I feel bad every time I pass them by without contributing to their cause. But whether I buy or not, the mere sight of child or two at the roadside, jumping up and down with a sign scribbled in magic marker on an awkwardly cut out piece of cardboard saves my soul: “Lemonade 25¢”

I see a shadow of my adult self in that little boy or girl with the scribbled advertisement. Like those children, my Father, provides me with everything; I live at his mercy though I do so ignorantly much of the time.

The cookies and lemonade I sell to make money are in reality His, not mine. He created them; he paid the price for them. And yet, I feel no compunction at keeping the money I make by selling what rightly belongs to Him. Often I naively believe that I somehow deserve it–that my almost insignificant efforts entitle me to it. Yet he lets me keep the fruits of my labor–so called–except for a tithe, to hopefully remind me of my indebtedness. He accepts my puny efforts as sufficient payment.

He could simply skip the lemonade stand step and give me the money He spent on cookies, but he doesn’t. He is wise. He knows that what I can learn through the struggle is far more valuable than the money he might bequeath.

We have been bought at a price–a terrible price. Like the child selling lemonade at the street corner, work we must, but our material success, and our eternal salvation, is by Grace alone, after an absurdly disproportionate “all” we can do.