Have you listened to the radio at all lately? On some stations it’s all Christmas, all the time – a veritable cacophony of Christmas carols; a musical bedlam. If some of our contemporary Christmas music had played in Bethlehem on that first Christmas night, I’m pretty there would have been room in the inn for the holy family.

Did you know that there is a historical connection between Bethlehem and Bedlam? In the year 1247, a London bishop opened a monastery known as the Priory of St. Mary of Bethlehem. Among other things, the priory provided a place to stay for the homeless poor, and its friars collected alms to be used for their care. For many years, perhaps more than a century, the people living and working at the Priory wore a star of Bethlehem for identification.

Then in 1370, the British government took control of the priory and eventually turned it into the first hospital in the western world to care for the mentally insane. Most of the people committed to Bethlehem Hospital had either murdered or tried to murder someone, and many were uncontrollably violent. All the hospital’s inmates were chained to iron rings in the walls. If they weren’t mentally ill when they entered the hospital, they were before they left.

By the late fourteenth century, it was increasingly common for people to spell the name of the hospital differently, as Bethlem rather than Bethlehem. Sometime after that, hospital officials began charging an admittance fee for people who wanted to tour the hospital to see the inmates, the way people go to zoos to see the animals. By that time, Bethlem had been further slurred into bedlam, which came to stand for a scene of madness, uproar and confusion.

Isn’t it strange that a place built for hospitality and peace, a place named Bethlehem after the birthplace of the Prince of Peace, should become a byword for a place of madness, uproar and confusion?

Or is it strange? Christmas, the celebration of the birth of the Prince of Peace is now for many people a time of madness, uproar and confusion. On Black Friday (talk about a name!) the stores play carols announcing “peace on earth, good will to men” while crazed shoppers push and shove and step on one another in a frenzy to spend money they don’t have for things they don’t need to give to people they don’t love. It’s bedlam all over again.

Indeed, the world always sits on a razor’s edge between Bethlehem and Bedlam, heaven and hell, peace and uproar. Whatever your Christmas season has been like so far, tonight I want to invite you to leave Bedlam and come to Bethlehem. Step out of the chaos of covetousness and into the composure of faith. Come to Bethlehem and see him whose birth the angels sing. Come, adore on bended knee Christ the Lord, the newborn king.

Ancient peoples (as well as some moderns) believed that there are “thin places” on earth where the natural and supernatural meet, where heaven and earth intersect. They imagined that the otherwise impenetrable barrier between the physical and spiritual worlds is permeable in these places. Tianmen Mountain in China is one, so is the Lempuyang Temple in Bali, and the Drombeg Stone Circle in Ireland.

I don’t know if thin places really exist, but if they do, Bethlehem may be one of them. This place where the mother of the patriarchs was buried (going on 4,000 years ago), where David the King of Israel was born (3,000 years ago), and to which wise men from the East traveled (2,000 years ago) has been the site of remarkable things, but none so important as the birth of Jesus.

Karen and I were in Bethlehem for one afternoon about ten years ago. To get there, we had to pass through a security wall, and it was not at all permeable. The barrier between heaven and earth may be thin at Bethlehem, but the barrier between Israel and Palestine is not. Once we got through the checkpoint and onto the Palestinian side, we saw signs and graffiti, even novelty t-shirts, threatening Israel and demanding liberation. 2,000 years after the birth of Jesus, Bethlehem is not a place of peace.

But do you know what? Things were not very different 2,000 years ago. When Jesus was born in Bethlehem, people there cursed the government and dreamed of liberation. In fact, the reason (on strictly human grounds) that Jesus was born in Bethlehem rather than somewhere else was an imperial decree that sent nationals back to their ancestral homes for the purpose of conducting a census.

Why did the emperor want a census? Because the data collected would guide his people in imposing the taxes that would fund the military government’s occupation of Israel and pay foreign troops to patrol her cities. You can imagine the resentment that inspired. When a census was taken in the next decade, that resentment boiled over into a major revolt that launched the Zealot resistance movement. The Bethlehem into which Jesus was born was not a place of “deep and dreamless sleep,” despite the carol’s lyrics. It was Bedlam. 

Bethlehem’s location did not make it a place of peace, nor did the supposedly permeable nature of spiritual reality there. What made Bethlehem a place of peace was the presence of the Prince of Peace. Jesus turns Bedlam into Bethlehem, chaos into peace. Or say rather that we can experience peace in the midst of chaos, and calm even at the crossroads of Bedlam if he is with us.

And that’s a message we need to hear today. Many of us reside in a Bedlam zip-code. Our homes have a Bedlam address. Our lives are busy, noisy, hurried, and confused. You may remember that when the Son of God arrived in Bedlam, there was no room in the inn. When he comes to us now, he finds things haven’t changed much. There is no room in our hearts. We are too busy, especially – ironically – at Christmas. Our minds are occupied. Our doors are closed. There is no vacancy.

And so, there is no peace. But the Son of God has never gone looking for a place of peace to enter—if that were the case, he would not have gone to Bethlehem. (And for that matter, he would never have come to this rebellious planet at all.) No, he looks for a person who will trust him, a person to whom and through whom he can bring peace. Personal peace and trust in God go together.

It’s striking how often the biblical writers connect the two. For example: “Your faith has saved you; go in peace” (Luke 7:50). Or how about this: “…since we have been justified through faith, we have peace…” (Romans 5:1). Or this, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him…” (Romans 15:13). Or this, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me” (John 14:1). Or this, “When I am afraid, I will trust in you” (Psalm 56:3).  Or better yet: “…in God I trust; I will not be afraid” (Psalm 56:11). Or this, “Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid” (Isaiah 12:2). Or this, “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.” (Isaiah 26:3).

You see, the Prince of Peace entered a world of bedlam to free its inhabitants and bring them peace. But he cannot lead us there unless we trust him. Trust him: in his life and his death, in his wisdom and his word. You can say, “Peace! Peace!” but there will be no peace without the Prince of Peace.

Jesus once grieved over the city of Jerusalem and its people with these words: “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes” (Luke 19:42). What would have brought them peace? The same thing that can bring us peace: the Prince of Peace.

On the night of his birth, in the hills outside Bethlehem, the angel said to the shepherds, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

Then all of heaven seemed to burst into song. The angel was joined by a host (the word means “army”) of angel peace-keepers who said, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among people with whom he is pleased!” And with whom is he pleased? He is pleased with those who love the One he loves: his Son Jesus Christ; and to them he gives his peace.

Jesus is the Peace-maker between God and us, and between us and one another. He is the one who unites Jews and Gentiles, whites and blacks, rich and poor, for he is our peace. He is the one who gives peace in chaos: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled” (John 14:27). He is the one who brings us peace in our anxiety: “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7).

When our lives are in chaos, we often make the mistake of looking for peace when we ought to be calling to Jesus. We try to escape the chaos in distraction, but when the distraction ends, the chaos remains. Don’t look for peace; that leads to addiction. Look for the Peace-maker. Don’t simply try to get control of your life; try to give control of your life to him. Christmas will come and go, but give your life to Christ, and he will come and stay.

I started by speaking of “thin places,” where heaven and earth meet, but the barrier between heaven and earth is not permeable in a place; it is permeable in a person: Jesus. It is in a manger that heaven and earth meet and kiss. And it is at a cross that the gate of heaven opens.