‘Twas the day before Christmas and all through the historic center of Bethlehem, many creatures were stirring–and making their way to the 200-year-old Central Moravian Church for the annual Children’s Lovefeast, an hourlong musical service that is one of contemporary Bethlehem’s (that’s Bethlehem, Pennsylvania., of course) most popular holiday events.
Hoping to beat the crowd, my wife and I and our 4-year-old twins arrive 40 minutes early, and are lucky to still find seats downstairs in the capacious white brick church whose interior resembles the Congregational churches of our native Connecticut, save for the world’s largest 26-pointed Moravian star suspended overhead. Befitting the event, it is indeed packed with children. My wife, a Catholic, and I, an Episcopalian, are instantly struck by the unpretentious sincerity of it all, a sincerity subsequently epitomized by the 7- year-old boy in the balcony singing the solo on “Morning Star,” his voice cracking on the high notes like Alfalfa.
Midway through the service, husband and wife teams of sacristans make their way up the aisles to serve the “feast.” The husband holds the tray while his wife, clad in solid white and her hair adorned with a linen doily, doles out the sugar cookies and mugs of chocolate milk which are dutifully passed down the pew. When the entire congregation has been served, the pastor says grace, and we are invited to partake. Needless-to-say, the girls are amazed to be eating cookies in church. Their parents are equally amazed when we all hold aloft lit hand-dipped beeswax candles while singing “Hark the Herald Angels/” in the darkened church. It is truly a moving sight.
But then, so, too, had been the sight the night before of all the windows of historic Bethlehem’s massive 18th Century stone edifices, each illuminated by a single electric white candle. And so, too, had been the community putz, an elaborate, home-made Nativity scene that we had viewed earlier that afternoon.
Come to think of it, just about everything we had seen or done in our 36 hours here had proven to be a refreshingly spiritual breath of frosty, minimally commercialized air. Even good old Charlie Brown himself would have approved.
Alas, I knew that wisdom had had nothing to do with our coming to this Bethlehem. Like many other latter-day pilgrims I suspect, I had been pleasantly surprised to discover that there are actually two Bethlehems in Pennsylvania: the gritty, industrial city that grew up around Bethlehem Steel, only to wither along with it as well; and the 250-year-old Moravian hilltop community on the other (north) side of the Lehigh River. Despite the local Chamber of Commerce’s attempts to gift wrap them together as “Christmas City, USA”–a campaign that began during the Depression primarily to lure shoppers–it is the latter “Historic Bethlehem” that most of the roughly 200,000 annual visitors come to see. Like us, most of them come during this five-week holiday season. And like us, they come not so much to buy (a little shopping is unavoidable), but to experience something that–thanks to the Moravian emphasis on community and simplicity–is much more akin to the true spirit of Christmas.
To keep them coming in a steady stream, the gamut of family-focused events is spread out fairly evenly. The downside of this, of course, is that there isn’t a single two- or three-day stretch when omnivorous out-of-town spectators can see it all. Priorities must be established, and in choosing the Children’s Lovefeast on Christmas Eve, we had had to forsake the Christkindlmarkt, the Old World outdoor market that had taken down its heated tents the week before.
Knowing precious little about the Moravians, we had decided it was best to start at the beginning–inside the Gemeinhaus, Historic Bethlehem’s oldest building. Originally an enormous five-story log cabin that had served as the sect’s one all-purpose building–hence the name, which means “together” house–it now houses the Moravian Museum. Our guide, a cultural anthropologist named Jenny, begins by explaining that the Moravians were founded by John Hus, one of the very first–100 years before Martin Luther–protesting reformers of the Catholic Church. For his troubles, Hus was burned at the stake in 1415, and his followers–officially known as the Unitas Fratrum (Unity of the Brethren), but colloquially as Moravians for the part of Germany (now the Czech Republic) where they lived–were persecuted for the next two centuries.
In 1722 they fled north, finding refuge on the estate of Count Nicholas Ludwig von Zinzendorf, a Saxon noble and spiritual sympathizer. It was Zinzendorf who revived the sect along utopian, non-wage lines, the hallmark of which was the “choir” system in which the congregation was divided into separate groups (known as “choirs”) according to gender and marital status (single, married, widowed). Each choir lived in its own communal quarters, and it is these impressive former choir houses–along with the church–that make up the heart of Historic Bethlehem.
It was Zinzendorf who also spurred the Moravians to go out into the world and preach the gospel to indigenous peoples. Bethlehem was one of those frontier outposts, founded in 1741 by 14 pacifist Moravian missionaries who had emigrated northward from Savannah, Ga., when they were required to perform military service. And it was Zinzendorf himself who gave the community its name on Christmas Eve of that year during his tour of the American missions. At the Moravian Christmas Traditions exhibit, we learn that it is the Moravians who are responsible for both the first candle-lit “trees,” in this case, freshly cut boughs wrapped around a wooden frame, and the trombone choir. Interestingly, however, several of today’s most beloved holiday traditions were appropriated from other functions. The Moravian star, for example, started out as a prop for teaching geometry, while the Lovefeast originated back in 1727 when Count von Zinzendorf had food brought in so that the congregation could continue worshipping on into the evening.
We sneak a peak inside the Old Chapel (1751), which is being readied for a service, on our way to the Central Moravian Putz (pronounced “pootz” and derived from the German verb putzen–meaning “to decorate”) at the church’s Christian Education Building. After the choir system was abolished, each family had its own small putz, and putzing about town during the holidays was considered a social obligation, with a red light on the porch signifying that the family putz was available for viewing.
Today there are only three large community putzes, of which this is the oldest and largest. Begun in early November with the gathering of moss, bark and stones from the nearby Poconos, it occupies the entire stage of the basement function room. We sit in the front row and listen to the 20-minute, tape-narrated story of the Nativity, from Isaiah’s prophecy to the flight into Egypt, while a roving spotlight illuminates the corresponding scene.
Back outside in the fading light we survey God’s Acre Cemetery, where the Moravian principles of equality and separation in life were maintained in death. Before us stretch rows of flat headstones, arranged by choir, with each identifying its occupant only by name, hometown and place of death.
Not surprisingly considering that everything else is now closed, the Moravian Book Shop, founded in 1745 and now the country’s oldest continuously operating bookstore, is positively buzzing. Dinner that night is at the Bethlehem Brew Works, a boisterous brewhouse cum restaurant that commemorates the enormous steel mill that finally went dark in 1995 after 140 years.
By now, Historic Bethlehem is aglow with white lights, the Moravian symbol of purity, and stars–the 26-pointed ones. With temperatures stuck in the low 20s, however, both the horse-drawn carriage and walking tours have been canceled, so we opt for the only option–the heated bus tour–led by a Moravian-costumed local grade-school teacher, Kathleen. What the bus might lack in intimacy and historical accuracy is amply compensated for by taking us across the river into industrial Bethlehem and then up South Mountain, home of the 81-by-53-foot multi-colored, electric star that had been the centerpiece of the original Christmas City, USA, campaign.
From our vantage point beside the gimmicky star, we gaze down upon the little 18th Century Moravian town, twinkling in the silent, pre-Christmas night. Anywhere else–or any other time of year–the prospect would have been merely picturesque. Tonight, however, it is positively moving.
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IF YOU GO
GETTING THERE
Bethlehem, Pa., is 62 miles north of Philadelphia near the intersection of Interstate Highways 78 and 476 (the Northeast Extension of the Pennsylvania Turnpike). Bethlehem-Allentown has its own airport with non-stop airfares from Chicago recently beginning at $314 (non-stop service to Philadelphia was lower, at $164).
LODGING
Bethlehem and nearby Allentown are well served by the usual chain hotels, but if you want to stay within walking distance of the historic center, the choices are limited. For hotels, it’s either the vintage 1922 and recently refurbished Hotel Bethlehem (437 Main St.; 800-607-BETH; www.hotelbethlehem.com; $132-$400) or the Comfort Suites (120 W. 3rd St.; 610-882-9700; www.comfortsuitesbethlehem.com; $94-$130).
For all-the-frills bed-and-breakfasts, it’s either the 17-room Sayre Mansion Inn, a sprawling Gothic-Revival urban manor from the 1850s (250 Wyandotte; 877-345-9019; $120-$200), or the five-room Morning Star Inn (72 E. Market; 610-867-2300; www.morningstarinn.com; $130-$175).
DINING
Historic Bethlehem’s one authentic culinary experience is served up at the 1758 Sun Inn (564 Main St.; 610-867-2628). For a later–and more casual–slice of historical ambience, head to the Bethlehem Brew Works (569 Main St.; 610-882-1300), which commemorates the city’s recently deceased steel industry. For something quick while you shop, the deli inside the Moravian Book Shop (428 Main St.; 610-866-5481) serves up nutritious soups, sandwiches, and sweets.
EVENTS
Historic Bethlehem’s holiday season runs from the day after Thanksgiving through Christmas Day with basic tours–walking, carriage and coach–offered on a daily basis; $7 adults, $4 ages 6-12. The Moravian Christmas Traditions exhibit at the Moravian Museum costs $3 adults, $1 ages 6-12. The Community Putz is free. In addition, there are literally dozens of special seasonal events to choose from, ranging from Christmas With the Von Trapp Children to Skating With Santa, most of which require tickets ($3-$34). Lovefeast and carol services at the Moravian Central Church are free, but require advance tickets, which can be obtained by calling 610-866-5661.
INFORMATION
For general information on Historic Bethlehem, including instructions on how to secure tickets: 800-360-TOUR; www.historicbethlehem.org.
For a comprehensive listing of all holiday season events in the Bethlehem area: www.bethlehem.info.
— M.S.B.
