It is really in a good way that I wake up this morning still feeling the smoke in my eyes from the Christmas In Bethlehem Drive Thru. Each year the churches in Bethlehem, NC work together to produce a dynamic living drama of the story of the birth of our Savior. There is no formal script. There is an unlimited number of cast members. The flow is dynamic and spontaneous, all except for the focus of the evening.
As you wander through the village you see families portraying a variety of jobs and businesses. None of the businesses are really what any of us do the other 362 days of the year. I sit in the Census Takers Booth counting all who have come to be registered by a decree from Caesar. I spend my time near Roman Soldiers who guard a jail. Just through the gate to the city I hear the blacksmith pounding out a new horseshoe for the horses that ride by.
Over to my right I see shepherds out in the field and a multitude (ok 2 at most) of Angels stand over them proclaiming the good news that a Savior has been born. The story is familiar to many of us. The story of the true meaning of Christmas. What a wonderful focus for 3 cold nights in December.
The biggest blessing of the Drive Thru Weekend doesn’t come from the costumes or the people who have built the make-shift village in a field. It isn’t the CD’s that the people have to listen to in their cars. No, the biggest blessing for me is the sense of community and belonging that tears down walls. You see, in Bethlehem, we are all dressed in a make shift “authentic” Bible Times costume. (Ok, maybe it is a piece of upholstery fabric with a head hole cut and tied with a string about your waist. On our heads we wear what could pass as a cover for the arm of your sofa, secured with head squeezers of various colors.) But when I walked into the “Village” for singing, devotions and prayer, on Friday night after a harried day and week I felt relaxed. I felt at home. I felt that I am part of something bigger than me. Something bigger than our church. Something bigger than we could really ever know.
Families began streaming into the village shortly after 6:30. Some drove through – and there were times that when I looked into their eyes, that I wondered if what they were driving was there home. Some just came to be fed in the Fellowship Hall. Some visitors didn’t speak much English – but the story translates itself. A babe, a savior, born unto us this day… came as a tiny baby … laid in a manger.
As you leave the Village of Bethlehem, you see the Manger, the Cross, and the Empty Tomb. You see, the story doesn’t stop there with a baby being born and people dressed with sofa arm covers on their head. The story is really about the greatest gift we could ever receive. One not tied up in pretty paper and bows. One who came to be the Savior of the World.
There is so much that happened over the 7 1/2 hours of Christmas in Bethlehem. So many stories to tell. So many faces of wonder and delight from the youngest to the oldest, from the skeptic to the softest of hearts. We may never know what a difference the Christmas Drive Thru made in the roughly 2000 people who participated, but I know that for me and my family we will never be the same. 
