A TOURIST VISITING Bethlehem's Church of the Nativity some years ago was surprised to find herself overcome with emotion. Her first view of the tiny grotto with its 14-point star marking the historical birthplace of Jesus sent tears rolling down her cheeks.
It wasn't a moment of religious revelation exactly, she explained in recounting the tale. She was a religious woman, but not at all sure whether the fourth-century Romans got it right when they built the church. Local legend was their only source for the location of the cave being used as a stable where the Gospels say Mary and Joseph took shelter as her child was about to be born. Maybe the actual site was five miles away. Maybe the whole story was apocryphal.
What deeply touched the tourist's heart was the sudden awareness of the huge longing for a spiritual connection that has sent millions of pilgrims thronging to the ancient stone and wooden edifice for more than 1,600 years.
Perhaps something similar is true for our celebration of the holiday commemorating that long-ago birth in Bethlehem.
Perhaps it is our yearning rather than anything we actually receive that gives the day its meaning.
Christmas suffers mightily from the expectations game. We want so much from it. We expect to feel joyful and triumphant. To be surrounded by loved ones, roasting chestnuts on an open fire. A light snowfall should blanket the ground or we feel shortchanged.
And that's just the little stuff. The most common prayer is for the day to deliver peace on Earth, goodwill toward men.
A tall order - in these times particularly.
And yet, as Robert Browning advised: "A man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?"
Gifts are such a big part of the season. But typically we are more focused on what we give than what we get: What we want most is not presents, but to please the people for whom we have chosen presents. This desire to please drives a financial engine so powerful that merchants rely on it to rescue end-of-the-year balance sheets and boost the entire economy.
The impulse to give and share also fuels charities and soup kitchens and homeless shelters too often ignored at other times of the year.
All the commercialism often masks, but doesn't replace, a powerful quest for the spiritual side of the Christmas that's not confined to Christians.
People of all faiths - and even non-believers - can cherish the story of a child born among barn animals, recognized by shepherds and wise men as the son of God.
We're drawn by the humility, the simplicity, the equality. The notion of something that binds us together as human beings and renders meaningless whatever petty issues trouble us day to day.
Sadly, there aren't many pilgrims in Bethlehem today. The ongoing conflict between Israelis and Palestinians has made travel to the old church too dangerous. And elsewhere in the region, U.S. service personnel are spending Christmas readying for possible military action in Iraq.
Accommodating to war won't stop us, though, from wishing, and hoping, and praying today that somehow it can be avoided. As long as we truly yearn for peace on Earth and goodwill toward men, perhaps there is a chance we can achieve it.