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Submitted by Mark Fowler –
This is a story of two people who were at the center of one of history’s most memorable events. A man and his fiancé were two unremarkable people. Neither powerful nor famous, known only in their local community, and even then, known for being quiet, unassuming, ordinary people to their neighbors, although they were noted for their piety and attendance at worship.
He was a laborer, working with his hands, getting things done, skilled at his work, dependable. If he took a job, he finished it and his work was of a superior quality, manifesting the care with which he worked, and his commitment to producing for his customers. This was one of his gifts. He suffered neither from want, nor did he have a surplus, he had enough, and for him enough was as good as a feast. You might say he had his daily bread, and was unburdened by worries over what might happen tomorrow. He was one of those people who had a quiet inner peace. He was solid, reliable, a good friend, a good neighbor, and a good citizen. So reliable, was he that he could be counted on to travel to his hometown, to pay exactly what he owed in taxes and to comply with government regulations about registering for the census.
In contrast to his humble demeanor, he was in fact descended from a king, one of the most admired kings of his culture, making his ancestry rather remarkable, but he himself was –well just ordinary.
His peace had been disturbed lately by an unexpected, almost unbelievable set of circumstances, followed by a dream or vision perhaps. The message was clear enough, but this situation was a radical departure from anything he had ever experienced before. Indeed, his present situation was different from anything he had ever heard of before. He was confused, disappointed, surprised, not quite certain of what to think and just a little apprehensive. He was, in short, a somewhat reluctant participant in history, not unlike many of his culture before him who had initially balked at the enormous responsibilities thrust upon them. Responsibilities they neither sought, nor wanted but which they carried out as best they could given their human frailties, just as he would carry out his own.
He was engaged to a girl. And although the events they were to experience affected them both, it was the girl who bore most of the burden. Like him she was quiet, reverent, dependable, faithful at worship but otherwise, just a common peasant girl. The man was older than she, and settled, while she was young, not particularly worldly but quiet, respectful, and not much different from other girls her age. Like the man she too had had something happen which she found hard to believe. In fact, swirling around her and her soon to be husband were a series of events that astounded all of them. Events not unheard of in their culture, but very exceedingly rare. Her aged cousin Elizabeth and her husband had unexpectedly become pregnant at an age far past that of most first-time mothers. To be honest, her cousin was pregnant not only many years after most first time mothers but past the time most mothers had delivered their last child. It was a miracle, of course, for her cousin’s husband was also aged. Nevertheless, the pregnancy was welcome as their culture valued children, and infertility was seen as an absence of God’s favor.
But God was very much present in the lives of these four ordinary people. This man, this girl, the girl’s cousin, and her husband.
Now, the custom in those days was that a census was required periodically to count the number of people, and to collect taxes.
Counting the population was essential to knowing how many men of military age were available in the event an army was needed. It was an inconvenience to the man and his wife, because it meant travelling on foot to another town about a week away or more depending on how well the young girl could travel. The man did not have a horse, mule, donkey or even an ox, much less a wagon to pull. And the journey was roughly eighty-four miles from their home. At 12 miles a day, it was arduous for her, for she was pregnant in her third trimester.
Her pregnancy had been the cause of some concern to her. It had been explained or rather announced to her soon after her cousin got pregnant, but it was nevertheless a bewildering state of affairs. Her pregnancy had been the quiet topic of discussion among her family. Not officially announced, but whispered, suspected, rumored.
She was engaged to her future husband, but in keeping with the custom of those days they had not consummated their relationship. And yet despite her flowing robes, some suspected what was true. She was with child, and due to deliver, as the time for the census approached. Quietly the girl had been arranging things. Gathering swaddling material for the baby, preparing a bed for him. Tasks that had not gone unnoticed. Since there had been no wedding ceremony, her condition was scandalous for that time. The suspicion that she was not virtuous, being whispered about as she went about her chores was devastating to her. Who would believe her story? Who would accept her if her situation were known? What would her future husband do or say?
This so-called scandal has caused her great distress at first. It is true she had had a dream or vision of what was to come, but the notion of it was frightening, even more so when she realized that her monthly time had not come as expected for six months. She had great trepidation over telling her husband. He was a good man, kind and understanding, and she could tell he loved her. But still, what would he think? How would he react to this development?
When the time came, she could no longer conceal the changes in her body, she was in tears when she had to tell him. He took it calmly, said nothing, but in his heart decided that the best thing was to end the relationship, quietly and with dignity. But he too had had a dream, and, in that dream, it had been revealed that his fiancé was pregnant via a miracle, and that he should not divorce her. And so, in obedience to what he understood as a command, he did not divorce her, continuing his relationship with her for better or worse, uncertain of what the future held, just as many of the heroes in his culture had done when faced with similar challenges.
The man and his fiancé dutifully went to the home of the man’s ancestry in obedience to the government requirements at the time. The trip was difficult for her and at bet they could only travel about twelve miles a day on foot. The man did all he could to ensure her comfort but that was difficult given his limited circumstances. Water and food and shelter were not readily available, and often they did without one or the other for what seemed like a long time. Finally, they arrived at the small town which was his ancestral home only to find that others had arrived before them and there was no place for them to stay. A kindly inn owner offered them space in the stable, a modest meal and water, which they graciously accepted, as though it was equivalent to a palace, for that is the kind of people they were.
The journey had been arduous, physical difficult and the time for her delivery arrived late in the night there in that stable. Whereas at home she would have been attended by the women of the community, here she had to deliver alone with only the support of her betrothed.
We do not know the exact day this young girl delivered. It has been lost in the mists of time. The calendar has been changed and renown scholars at the time including Hippolytus and Chrysostom have tried to determine that day. Using historical records, it appears likely to have been 6 BC as we commonly measure time, but no one knows for sure. So strange that this historical event went largely unnoticed and unheralded at the time.
That special day. That day that the Divine became Human. The day that the Divine gave up his position as Lord to enter this world virtually unheralded except to a few shepherds tending their flock who had also experienced a vision from angels. And to three men who studied the scriptures and the stars and who may have seen an astronomical event that led them to Bethlehem to see what they had suspected from their devout attention to the scriptures.
And these men, humble shepherds and devout wise men were the first to witness the appearance of the God Incarnate. The Messiah, whose name is Immanuel meaning God with us. Who’s coming had been predicted by a prophet 700 years before.
Coming not as a conqueror, not as a warrior, but as an infant, born to simple devout people, in a stable because there was no room for them and laid in a stone feeding trough.
This was the Word, one who had been present at creation, who was God, Who had come to live like men lived, to live as a Man, and to experience hunger, thirst, temptation and discomfort as Men did.
This obscure event, this humble child born to a humble family in the most humble of circumstances, marks the beginning of the life of one who forever changed history and God’s relationship to mankind.
There is a Coda to this story. One often overlooked because it is tragic. Nevertheless, this tragedy had been foretold in the scriptures as well. Herod, somehow having learned of the birth of the Messiah, desired to know more about this child. Not to worship him, not to protect him, but to kill him. So troubled was he by the news of this birth, so fearful was he of this small child that he lied to the wise men to get them to reveal where this child was. But they too received a word from the Lord and did not report to Herod.
So, the king of Kings, and Lord of lords born as a child and his extraordinary and yet most ordinary parents were forced to flee to Egypt until Herod died.
Throughout the scriptures is the commandment to be kind to the foreigner, for the King of Kings was once himself a political refugee.
Herod, driven insane by his own insecurity, by his desire to hold on to power at any cost, unable to conceive of any competitor decreed that all the male children under two years of age in Israel be killed, and this was foretold in Jeremiah.
A voice is herd in Ramah,
Weeping and great mourning,
Rachel weeping for her children
And refusing to be comforted
Because they are no more.
Remember these little ones, who are often overlooked. Who died in their innocence, for they too are a part of the story. So cruel is the heart of man, that the entry of God into the world was not met with rejoicing, but with tragedy. A tragedy of significance recorded in the Scriptures and emphasizing how far men can stray from God, underscoring the need for His coming and His sacrifice.
For another 12 years not, much is known about this young man, his family retreated to Nazareth in Gallilee, and at age 12 he appeared in the Temple demonstrating great understanding of the Scriptures. We have no reliable record of him until He reappears in History at age 33.
And this is the story of the Divine coming to Earth as a man. Born in a stable laid in a manger, raised to work as a carpenter, owned no land, commanded no armies, wrote no great books, held no position of authority other than that arising from his teaching, died tragically, but changed the world forever.
The man was Joseph, the girl, Mary, and the child Jesus.
