Bishop Benedict of Sălaj has proposed in his first Christmas Pastoral Letter a reflection on what he calls the “theology of the cave,” drawing a parallel between the humility of the manger in Bethlehem and the “cave” of suffering experienced in communist prisons. He stresses that no human suffering is too dark to be illumined by the Nativity of the Lord.
The bishop has cautioned that, although the Nativity is often perceived through warm and idyllic imagery, the reality of the event is marked above all by humility.
“We must not forget that the feast of Christmas introduces us into the ‘history’ of the divine Child, who humbled Himself to the point of being born in a dark and poor cave, a stable for animals, since His own did not receive Him in their comfort,” Bishop Benedict wrote.
This “theology of the cave,” he explained, reveals a God who deliberately chooses “what is despised by human standards” to manifest the power of His love. The cave thus becomes a symbol of how divine grace is at work.
Bethlehem behind bars
The bishop went on to draw a connection between the Nativity of the Lord and the sacrifice of the saintly confessors of the communist period, canonised by the Romanian Orthodox Church in 2024. Figures such as Saint Dumitru Stăniloae, Saint Hilarion Felea, Saint Cleopas of Sihăstria and Saint Arsenius of Prislop are evoked as models of spiritual resistance.
There is, Bishop Benedict noted, a profound correspondence between the poverty of the manger and the “cave” of the prisons—places where Christ chose to descend to be close to “His least brethren.”
He explains that the Saviour was born mystically in the souls of those imprisoned, even amid the misery of incarceration. Through His presence, God transformed spaces of suffering into places of communion.
“That the Lord came to dwell in prison was not merely an exaggerated poetic metaphor, but a living truth deeply experienced by those who were incarcerated,” Bishop Benedict noted.
“They lived unearthly experiences, intense moments of communion with the One who was being born and who, at the same time, was mysteriously giving birth to them into a new life of inner freedom. Those who carried Christ in their hearts transformed the prison into a church and suffering into victory. Though defeated by the world’s standards, they found in Christ an inner triumph.”
Carols as acts of spiritual resistance
Despite conditions intended to crush them, the feast of the Nativity became for prisoners an act of spiritual resistance. The bishop recalled how inmates composed carols and poems that circulated from cell to cell, memorised as messages of hope.
“For a time, some composed carols, others wrote poems, which circulated through the cells and were learned by heart,” he noted.
“Together, these creations became messages of suffering—hunger, cold, torture, isolation and loneliness—contexts in which prisoners welcomed the Nativity of the Lord, weaving the pain of immediate life together with the hope born of faith. Bethlehem moved into the prison, and the heart became a living manger where Jesus could be born.”
One moment of particular intensity recalled by Bishop Benedict is the repose of Saint Gerasimus of Tismana on Christmas night in 1951. On the threshold of death, the saint blessed not only his fellow sufferers but also one of his former torturers, offering forgiveness to both.
“In a manner that inspires deep admiration, we are told that shortly before his death he blessed his companions in suffering, including one of his former tormentors, who was also dying, and offered them Holy Communion,” the bishop writes.
This scene, he adds, confirms that “the love shown was stronger than horrific terror, even stronger than death,” with the holiness of these confessors revealed in “the hidden miracle of perseverance and forgiveness.”
The reality of our own hearts
Bishop Benedict underlined that the image of the cave-prison is not merely a historical lesson, but a present inner reality. Even today, amid freedom and comfort, “our inner space can resemble an untended, cold and hostile cave, inhabited by the ‘animals’ of the passions.”
“Christ comes to dwell in our hidden inner prisons, where we are bound by invisible chains—sadness, loneliness, suffering, addictions, fears and injustices,” he writes.
The message concludes with an appeal to hope: “Let no one despair, thinking that they are ‘too sinful’ or ‘too unworthy’ for God. Precisely for this reason, Christ comes into the ‘cave’ of the heart, into the ‘stable’ of the soul, to raise those who have fallen and are lost. Let us therefore open our hearts to Him and allow Him to heal and illumine them with His grace.”






