Greccio and Bethlehem

Country: Italy
Date of Agreement:24 December 1992
Name of Mayor: Antonio Rosati
Tel: 0039 746 750591
Fax: 0039 746 750587
Address: Commune de Greccio, Provincia Di Rieti, via Limiti Nord 17, 02045 Limite di Greccio

This is a town of Medieval origin. The "Castrum", from which its present name derives through Greece then Grezze, is mentioned since the 11th Cent. The town has an excellent mineral water spring (Fonte Lupetto) as well as good receptive facilities. The Parish Church is dedicated to St. Michael the Archangel, and is at the top of a beautifully planned stairway. Inside the Church a 16th Cent painting (Madonna enthroned with Angels and Saints), over the left hand altar, is worth attention. The Franciscan Convent is built onto the rocky wall of a wooded mountain side, about 2 kilometers from the town. Tradition says that from 1209 St. Francis began to live on the top of Mount Lacerone overlooking Greccio, building himself a shelter between two birch trees. On this spot, a commemorative Chapel rose in 1792. One day St. Francis gave a child a lighted firebrand. He said he would choose his dwelling on the spot where the hurled firebrand fell to earth.

Miraculously, it flew through the air, crossed the valley and struck the rocky where the first retreat was founded and later, during the time of St. Bonaventure, the Convent. The road leads to a clearing, beneath a flourishing oak. Going along a narrow corridor, one reaches the Chapel of St. Luke, built out of the grotto where St. Francis, commemorating the divine mystery of the Nativity before a crowd of faithful from Greccio and the rearby towns on the night of Christmas in 1223, actually instituted what was to become the tradition of the Christmas creche. From that time the name of this locality is known all over the world. The renown of Greccio is increased with visit of Johannes Paul II (2/1/1983). There is a 15th Century fresco in the chapel, attributed to the Master of Narni from 1409, showing, on the right, the Nativity, and on the left, the Crèche of Greccio. Among the people, the rich noble man, Giovanni da Greccio, is recognizable, extremely devoted to the Saint. There are also two 15th Century frescoes painted on the exterior of the Chapel: the Nativity of the Umbro-Marchigian School, and a representation of St. John the Baptist. The first dormitory of the Monks can be visited, as well as the cell where the Saint slept upon bare rock and the pulpit of San Bernardino. From here, it is a short distance to the Chiesina, dating from the first half of the 13th Cent; dedicated to St. Francis, the barrel vault is covered with stars and there is also a representation of Blessed Giovanni da Parma. The rough-hewn choir stalls have been preserved, the lectern and the wooden swivel holder for the lantern used to illuminate the pages of the anthem-book.

A 16 the Century painting is shown on the altar of the Deposition among the Saints; on the lefthand wall is an interesting 14th Cent. fresco of St. Francis to whom the Angel is announcing the remission of sins and, above this, a beautiful 15 th Century painted tondo attributed to the Florentine Biagio di Antonio, showing the Madonna and Child. In a small oratory next door, to the left, is a canvas glued to wood, probably from the late 16th Cent., showing St. Francis drying his tears with a cloth. On the facade of the Chiesina, to the left of the door, had been a fairly ruined fresco from the 15th Cent. (Virgin enthroned with

Child and Angels Chorus, a Deacon Saint, St. Francis, a Bishop Saint, the Blessed Trinity - Father, Holy Spirit and Christ Crucified - St. John the Baptist and another Bishop Saint). The visit ends in going through the ascetic dormitory which dates from the time of St. Bonventure.

The Christmas of Greccio

Francis set out again on the roads of Umbria. Again he went up the rugged path along the woodlands of Fonte Colombo and joyously greeted the little church so dear to him. The days that followed were among the happiest of his life. Christmas was drawing near. Pleasant weather had returned, and in the cloister formed by the wooded hills, a clear light shone in the joyful, pristine mornings. Toward evening, the long slow notes of cornemuses rose from the valley, playing ancient pastorals. Tenderly they dwelled on the miraculous dream of the return of the Son of God to earth as a baby, little and poor, clasped to the breast of the Virgin.

Francis wanted everyone to share in the joy of this "feast of feasts." He wanted the poor and the hungry to sit at the tables of the rich; and oxen and asses, the humble beasts who had warmed the baby Jesus with their breath, to be given more than the usual amount of grain and hay.

"If I could speak to the emperor," he said, "I would ask that a general law be made requiring all who can to scatter corn and other grains along the roads so that the birds might have an abundance of food on such a great and solemn day, especially our sisters the larks."

A few days before Christmas, Francis sent for a noble of Greccio, a castello nearby, a man Giovanni for whom Francis had a very. special love because of his goodness. To him Francis disclosed the plans he had made.

It would be, he said, so good, so edifying, to call to mind the birth of the Christ Child on the night of Christmas, to have "set before our bodily eyes in some way the inconveniences of his infant needs, how he lay in a manger, how, with an ox and an ass standing by, he lay upon the hay where he had been placed." His poetic gifts enabled him to give vivid life to the scene. Giovanni was enthralled.

Brothers from nearby Franciscan places were invited. Many torches and candles were needed to make a great light in that night that has lighted up all the days and years with its gleaming star." Men and women worked unceasingly to prepare them. All had been made ready in the forest by Christmas Eve, the Vigil of Christmas: the manger, the hay, the ox and ass. Francis inspected it and was pleased. At last he had found a way to make a living presentation of the concept in which he passionately believed, in a drama that could not fail to stir even the most stolid. The lowly manger would show forth God - small, poor, humble. Greccio would become a new Bethlehem.

Night fell and obscured the dark beech trees, the steep cliffs, the hermitage, the valley. A profound waiting silence lay over the great stage. Then it began to snow, and there was nothing but an immense whiteness in the calm and peaceful night. It seemed that unseen bells were ringing out the ancient invocation: "Peace on earth to men of good will" In the great, white quiet atmosphere, every petty, malicious, and unworthy feeling died away.

As the hours passed, far-away lights appeared in the valley and began to move up to the hermitage. Again, as once before, shepherds were walking in the night to "come and adore Him."

In reading over the description written by Thomas of Celano, who certainly got his information from someone who was there, we ourselves can see the marvelous scenes.

A thousand torches blaze up in the darkness, joyous moving lights, like the enchanted lights in a festival of fantasy in legends arising from the depth of a magic forest. And still it is snowing. A whirlwind of flakes dances in the flickering flames of the torches. Great crackling bonfires add their light and voice to the jubilation of flames that shine out on the harsh and lonely mountain. The night, writes Thomas, is "lighted up like the day."

A great throng crowds around the manger, where the ox and the ass bring the ancient miracle to life again. The people, writes Thomas, are "filled with new joy over the mystery."

From the group of kneeling friars arises the mighty chorus: "Let the heavens be glad and the earth rejoice; let the sea and what fills it resound..." The song rises to the tops of the white oaks on which reflections of the red fires dance; it expands into the invisible sky. It travels to the distant mountains.

Everything proclaims solemnity, beauty, and joy: the priest with the gold chasuble who celebrates the Mass, the altar shining with lights, the brothers in their pure white surplices, the forest ringing with the joyous hymn, the rocks that "make answer to their jubilation." A single harmony unites all things and all creatures - perhaps even the angels who sang on the night that Christ was born are singing again, too, beyond the intense light.

Francis vested as a deacon, sings the beautiful lesson: "She gave birth to her first-born son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger..."

His voice rings out like heavenly music that none of those present could ever forget: "a strong voice, a sweet voice, a clear voice, a sonorous voice." The nobleman Giovanni is so overwhelmed by it that as Francis reads, he sees the baby Jesus "lying in the manger lifeless, and ... the holy man of God go up to it and rouse the child as from a deep sleep."

"This vision was not unfitting," writes the friar, "for the Child Jesus had been forgotten in the hearts of many; but, by the working of his grace, he was brought to life again through His servant Saint Francis and stamped upon their fervent memory.

Then Francis preaches to the people, and "he spoke charming words concerning the nativity of the poor King and the little town of Bethlehem." Speaking the word "Bethlehem" (Betlemme) says Thomas, his voice seems to resemble the sound of a lamb.

And the light that shines in the darkness is truly the light of the dawn, the beginning of a new day for all who were there - that light that touches the faces, envelops the motionless plants, reaches into the snow-covered valley and up to the icy heights that still echo the sound of silvery voices: Rejoice! Rejoice!