Rev Bill

Here’s a portion of it:

In 1973 my Dad and I went on a trip with some other members of my Church to Israel. Early one morning our tour bus left Jerusalem early. I was a cloudy November day but our spirits were high – we were going to Bethlehem – the town of Jesus’ birth. As we rode through the hills of Judea that surrounded Bethlehem we were filled with excitement and anticipation. As we made a steep turn, the town of Bethlehem lay below us – and everyone on the bus began singing:
O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee lie.
It did not take us long, though, to realize that Bethlehem was anything but still.
Our bus passed people rushing to market – merchants selling their wares — young children running along the side of bus – ready for the doors to open so they could rush on the bus and sell us “souvenirs”. The bus finally stopped in front of the Church of the Nativity – and when we finally made our way through the crowds into the Church we enjoyed the quiet we found. We sat in pews – waiting our turn to walk down the narrow steps to view the replica of the manger where Christ was born. When it came our turn to walk down the steps, Dad and I stood in awe at the place that must have been just like it was when Christ was born – a cold, damp, cave, far away from the crowded streets. As we walked back through the crowded and confusing streets of Bethlehem to our bus, we still had a feeling of peace – and joy. We had taken a few moments to remember the purpose of our trip.
We had taken a few moments to remember the purpose of our lives.

You can read the sermon here.