Take a closer look at that holy night

The Emperor Augustus wrote a decree for tax officials to take a head count of the entire Roman Empire. But our story starts, not in a palace, but among the least of the people in the Empire. Mary and Joseph learn that they will be traveling from Nazareth to Joseph’s ancestral town of Bethlehem when Mary is due to give birth. It’s enough to make anyone wonder if God cares at all.

Mary and Joseph joined the throngs of travelers out on the road. All along their journey, Mary had recalled the song God gave her when she was visiting her relative Elizabeth. As she and Joseph left Nazareth she was humming along remembering, “My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my savior.”

The two left the Galilee, crossed Samaria, coming into Judah. Mary entered Jerusalem riding on a donkey with the words of the song ringing in her ears, “He has mercy on those who fear him in every generation.”

Mary knew Joseph was a descendent of Israel’s King David. But when they arrived in Bethlehem, it was clear that much of Israel was also a son of David. The town was jam-packed. Mary didn’t dare tell Joseph that she had begun to feel labor pains as they made their way from inn to inn.

Mary tried to concentrate on the song that had accompanied her journey, “He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. He has….” The labor pains would come. She tried to keep her face straight as her insides twisted with the beginnings of labor. Finally, Joseph came back out with the innkeeper, some distant cousin no doubt. Neither was smiling.

“Mary, we have a place to stay,” he said, but he wasn’t leading her inside the inn.

“A room? Where?” she asked.

“Not exactly a room,” Joseph hesitated. The owner of the inn was looking at the ground. “There’s a stable…. at least we’ll have a place for the donkey and we’ll be there until I find something better.”

The innkeeper directed them down a narrow street to the dark cave that served as a stable. Joseph piled dry straw into a bed for Mary. The pain came again. Mary cried out. It felt like everything inside her was trying to get out. Like a river flooding down a mountainside, God’s plan was in motion and nothing could stop it. Mary was being swept along in God’s plan, something being done both through her and for her. Before she could adjust to the contraction it was gone. 

“Joseph, it’s time,” she said simply.

Mary sent Joseph to find a midwife. Mary lay still, waiting. Another pain came, closer this time. After it subsided, Mary sang again.

“He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty.” Those words had a funny twist of irony now as she gave birth in a stable. But Mary knew this child would change everything.

Joseph came into the cave soon after Mary delivered Jesus. He helped as Mary cleaned and carefully wrapped Jesus. Mary looked down at her Jesus with love. His wrinkled face was so beautiful. His hands and feet were perfect. Lovingly Mary wrapped the strips around Jesus to help him to grow straight. Mary sang to Jesus, “He has remembered his promise of mercy, The promise he made to our fathers, to Abraham and his children forever.”

Mary was tired, beyond sleep. She and Joseph just watched Jesus. A dirty-faced teen ran into the stable and then darted back into the street. “He’s here. The baby is here,” he cried out in the street. Half a dozen shepherds bustled in. They looked dirty and smelled of the fields. When they saw the baby, the shepherds’ faces lit up.

The shepherds began talking all at once. Finally they settled down and one of them began to recount their story. They had been out with their flocks like on a thousand nights before when an angel appeared.

“We were scared half to death,” the shepherd admitted.

“The angel told us the Messiah was born this night. Of all things, he said that we would find him wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger. Then the sky was filled with a crowd of angels singing the most glorious music. We came straight to town and have been peeking in stables ever since. It’s a miracle finding you here.”

“Can you imagine? Angels appearing to the likes of us,” another shepherd added.

“I always thought the Messiah would be born to the rich,” another said.

Mary remembered the words of her song. The lowly shepherds were the first to come praise God’s own child. The shepherds did, at last, leave, and Mary did get in some sleep before the sun rose. First she lay on the hay, pondering in her heart all that happened. Over the many years that followed, Mary would take her memories out—the angel that came to her, Elizabeth and the song she sang to God. And then Mary would come to the night of Jesus’ birth. This was the memory that never ceased to amaze her.

That God would become a human showed how much God cares for his creation. But that God would be born as such a fragile child in such a lowly place was sometimes more than Mary could express. Yet, God was made man in Jesus.

There were the many miracles that followed in his ministry—so many people healed and made whole. But somehow Jesus’ very life was a miracle that meant so much more to Mary. God became man and he came first to the least of the people. By his very birth, Jesus showed how God’s love is for all the world.

(The Rev. Frank Logue is pastor of King of Peace Episcopal Church in Kingsland.)

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