between the nature of the two lands — between the green land of Galilee and the barren waste of Judah!

In Palestine the ancient memorial

scenes may captivate you and move you, yet your admiration is bound to receive a shock if you pause over certain details:

For the Grotto of the Nativity is ringed with a halo of gold and marble, so that in this atmosphere of luxury it is hard for you to picture that dark retreat to which two lost wayfarers fled on one of the cold nights.

But if you wish to dream of that tremendous event, you have nothing for it but the scene of one of Palestine's nights, with its star-strewn sky. Anything there — the faintest sound or stir, or a scent — will set the atmosphere for you better than the finest paintings can, to recall the simple figures of that divine night: the shepherds and their lambs, the farmers with their rough hands, the three Magi and their gifts...

While the child Jesus was seeing the light, thousands of kilometers away from Bethlehem, three Magi in the heart of Asia Minor were consulting the stars about the future.

The Magi Follow the Star

That night a strange portent caught their eyes: they saw in the sky a star of which they had not the slightest knowledge. What could it be, this fiery flame moving toward the East? Let them follow it — it might lead them to the discovery of a great secret. Nor did they forget, before setting out, to furnish themselves with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, such as might turn aside from them the assaults of highwaymen.

They journeyed long until they came to Jerusalem, across pale mountains where the scenery scarcely changes, with no guide but this wondrous star.

And Jerusalem remains to this

day, despite all the horrors it has endured, one of the first six cities of the world, together with New York, London, Paris, Rome, and Peking.

And when you catch sight of it, pale, crouched upon its rocky base, you grasp the essence of this hidden, secluded town.

In the days of the Magi this city, folded in upon itself, was under the rule of Herod: an aged king who refused to admit the wasting of his powers, and lived in constant fear of death.

And fate would have it that the Magi should pass by him and disclose to him the purpose of their journey; for they had seen in a dream that this star would guide them to a child who would after-ward become king of the world.

Herod listened to them with attention, but hid from them the alarm and fear that had come over him, and contented himself with pressing them to call upon him on their return and inform him of the child's whereabouts.

Herod Slays the Innocents

The three Magi promised him this and continued their march to Bethlehem, which lay but ten kilometers from Jerusalem. And behold, the star stands still above the stable; they enter the lowly place, and there, amid heaps of straw upon the ground and the tools of tillage, they fall prostrate at the child's feet and spread out their gifts before him...

As for Herod, his waiting grew long, for the Magi changed their road on the way back — an inner intuition had prompted them to it. Herod thought ill of the Magi's failure to return, and issued an order to slay all the children still in swaddling clothes. But!... this time too the angel proved a faithful guardian: he appears to Joseph and commands him to take Mary and the child and flee with them to Egypt.

Under other circumstances the family crosses this desert a second

time, in the direction of Galilee, but with a tranquil heart, for Herod had departed this life.

If Judah is the land of the Old Testament, Galilee is the land of the Gospels. It is not that pretty spot of gay colors, as certain artists have imagined it — no! Rather it draws its magic from the harmony of its muted colors and their variety, and from that singular sweetness which reigns over it, so that at every turn of the road you feel the murmurings of divine mercy.

In Nazareth, Jesus lived thirty whole years apart from fame.

And here again we return to the old popular texts to learn something of the tidings of his childhood: they picture him for us as a child frolicking among his playfellows, showing himself in the guise of the son of God only rarely — when he would knead sparrows out of clay and then grant them life with a breath from his mouth, in full view of his companions. The time had not yet come for him to address his words to the multitudes — words for which immortality was written... Walk today along the shores of the Lake of Tiberias, and you fancy you hear the whisperings of those exquisite verses.

Nothing has changed since then. The waters of the lake are the waters of the miraculous catch, and the boats dancing upon its surface are the boats of Saints Peter, Mark, and Luke — and should the winds blow up from the deserts of Jordan and stir the deeps of Tiberias, then take your fill of delight in one of the storms of the Gospels.

And above your head rises a hill of gentle slope... upon its quiet grass the fates contended over the destiny of the world.

From this world of beatitude Jesus uttered his sayings, which opened wide, to the wretched, the needy, and the afflicted, the doors of hope...