From the Manger to the Table

When I was a child, we often spent our vacations in my mother’s village, Sevkar, in the Tavush region. My mother’s aunt would bake bread in a wooden oven, the old, ancient way. We, children, would be outside playing, running around without a care, and suddenly the air would change. The smell of fresh bread would reach us, and without anyone calling us, we would all run to the oven, excited to get our share.

Today, as we entered Bethlehem, I felt that same stirring within me. It was not the scent of physical bread, but the aroma of the Bread of Life, and like those children long ago, we came running to receive what truly satisfies.

In Scripture, when something is repeated, it matters. When it is repeated three times, it carries weight and purpose. In the second chapter of the Gospel of Luke, the word manger appears three times. The Gospel relates that shortly after His birth, the infant Jesus was wrapped in swaddling cloths and placed in a manger.

The manger was a wooden or stone food container full of straw for the animals. And yet, this is where the Son of God was laid. The King of Kings chose not a palace, not a throne, but a feeding place. Why? Because Jesus did not come to impress the world. He came to feed it.

Bethlehem means “House of Bread,” and the Bread of Life was born there. Later, Jesus said, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry” (John 6:35). On the night before His crucifixion, He took bread, blessed it, broke it, and said, “This is my body, given for you.” From the manger to the table, Christ gives Himself as food for the world.

So many people today are hungry, not physically, but spiritually. Hungry for peace. Hungry for meaning. Hungry for love, justice, kindness, and hope. We try to fill that hunger with success, recognition, possessions, even good intentions, but nothing satisfies for long. The soul knows what it needs. The heart recognizes its true bread.

That’s why the manger matters. It invites us to be honest about our hunger, to stop pretending we are full when we are empty, to stop surviving on crumbs when God is offering us the bread that satisfies, the Love that nourishes our souls beyond all measure.