Chapter 23 – Advent’s Way to the House of Bread: What happened in the Bethlehem Grotto?

In the Bethlehem Grotto - An Advent Journey to the House of Bread

Along an uneven, winding path, past sunken walls, ditches, and the city’s ramparts, they climbed a tree-covered hill. The last houses were far behind them.

They stopped before a shepherds’ grotto. It looked more like the ruins of an old house covered with rubble, overgrown with grass and wild shrubs, forming a hill within a hill. The vault at the entrance was supported by two wooden posts.

Joseph opened the light door woven from branches that shielded the low entrance. The grotto consisted of several misshapen sections at different levels. The floor - called the threshing floor, as it was tamped from clay and limestone stones - was uneven itself and covered with straw, hay, and various kinds of refuse. After all, it was a resting place for shepherds and animals, a shelter from night and rain. In the depths, near the manger, stood only an ox chewing hay. Joseph hung a lit lamp on the wall and stepped outside.

“Careful, Miriam. I’ll help you - the entrance is narrow and the floor uneven. I’ll take care of everything so you can rest. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll find a place in some house. For now, this is better than the open sky.”

Joseph began to tidy the interior. With the children’s help, he gathered the reeds and straw. The donkey stood by the manger next to the ox. The hungry long-eared fellow eagerly began to munch on the hay. Gabi, determined to help, kept handing him bundles of hay. When Miriam approached to stroke the ox and warm her cold hands, Gabi carefully followed her example. The ox merely snorted, then looked at them gently. Even so, the girl jumped back for a moment - she had never seen such an animal before, let alone touched one.

On layers of straw, Joseph spread the mats they had found in the grotto. Marcel continued helping Joseph as best he could, trying to bring some order to the mess.

Joseph quickly went to the nearby stream for water, then ran to the city for fruit and more kindling. He also brought glowing embers in a tin with a handle.

Meanwhile, Marcel gathered the branches left in the grotto and arranged them as Joseph had taught him. He prepared a fire near the entrance. When Joseph returned, they lit the fire together - this time without tinder or flint, using only the glowing coals.

Because it was cold and damp, Joseph threw a sheet they had found in the shed over the branch-made door. Then, together with Marcel, they warmed - or rather dried - bundles of hay over the fire to make bedding for the night.

Joseph also prepared supper for everyone: bread with cheese, dried figs, dates, and winter apples. The children only repeated their prayers; nothing else seemed to want to come from their lips. The evening was unusually quiet, like in a "Silent Night" carol.

Through several openings in the ceiling, the stars peered inside, and the moon rose higher and higher.

Miriam lay down on the bedding in the depths of the grotto, while the children and Joseph slept near the entrance. In this austere simplicity and poverty, far from the noise of the city, they could finally rest a little after the long journey and all the formalities of the census.

Both Miriam and Joseph, each in their own quiet way, hummed Psalm 131—the shortest of all the psalms, gentle and contemplative.

"O Lord, my heart is not proud, my eyes do not seek what is lofty. I do not chase after what is too great for me. Instead, I have calmed my soul, and brought it peace. Like a child resting with its mother, so my soul rests within me. O Israel, place your hope in the Lord, now and forever."

In the silence of the grotto, far from comfort and certainty, the true meaning of waiting begins to unfold. Poverty becomes shelter, and simplicity becomes enough. This is Advent’s Way to the House of Bread, where God chooses closeness over grandeur and presence over protection.

The Psalms have accompanied people for centuries on journeys, escapes, returns, and nights spent “on the outskirts.” They were the prayers of pilgrims, families, exiles, and those who had no temple—only the road.

Prayer on the road with the psalms is about allowing God’s Word to walk with us exactly where we are. Today, in the stillness of the winter night, take a moment to rest and reflect on the meaning of the approaching holidays. Perhaps find a quiet place to hum Psalm 131 a few times—letting it soak into your heart, like batter into a holiday sponge cake.

Chapter 24 – Advent’s Way to the House of Bread: The Miracle of the Night in the Bethlehem Grotto