Not A Silent Night
In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world.(This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to their own town to register.
(Luke 2:1-3)
The innkeeper had been swamped for the last few days. More than once he had turned away guests, and a couple of times he had nearly evicted others for their loud revelry. His own house was crowded with his in-laws. To tell the truth, he was just looking forward to the completion of the census so he could go back to his usual clientele of merchants passing through.
It wasn't just his inn; the whole town was crowded. The decree required that everyone return to their ancestral homes, which for many had meant long days of travel and a reception by family they hadn't seen in years. Sounds of family feasts and happy homecomings had been echoing down the city streets for the last few nights, a second harvest party for the year.
When a carpenter from Nazareth and his wife came from the direction of the only other inn in town, though, his hands were tied. They were different -- young, traveling alone, and she was very pregnant. The carpenter's family must have been long gone if they didn't have relatives with whom to stay, and the stress of the day was starting to show on the soon-to-be-father's face. His wife was still calm, but he knew the man would be hard-pressed to maintain his own calm if his wife went into labor before they were settled.
He did what he could -- there was no way he could turn away a couple in such need, if only because his wife would have his hide. A couple of cots in the garage wasn't much, but it was warm and dry and more than they were likely to find in the home of a stranger. Besides, the animals were quieter company than his other guests and the stable was close to his own house.
His wife brought them blankets and bedding. When she came back to the house, her mouth was set in a thin line -- the woman had just gone into labor, and she already knew for a fact that the town midwife had gone to her husband's village to register. She sent her husband scurrying for fresh hay while she gathered the clothes and blankets left over from their own last child and went back to the stable.
No first birth has ever been truly easy, but this young mother dealt well with the pain. Her husband was far more frantic until the moment the child arrived.
For the first time that night as the young mother held her baby, true calm settled over the stable. He was a beautiful child and surprisingly quiet. The innkeeper's wife would say for years that she was sure she saw the baby smile at her as she set him in his mother's arms.
As she slipped back the house to allow the little family some time to themselves, she was happier than she had been in months.
But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."
(Luke 2:10-12)
It was calmer among the herds. From their perches on the hillsides, the shepherds had watched the parties in town slowly die down as the night progressed. Their own herds were quiet, hunkering down for the night. A couple of the shepherds had dozed off, vowing to take the second or third watches if they could just get some sleep right now.
One young shepherd was in his own little world. His older brothers had moved on from the herds; one of them was managing another man's lands while the other was married and settled in town as a blacksmith. On the other hand, as a shepherd, he was just getting started. He was at the bottom of the social chain and knew that if he wandered into town that evening to join the family party, he'd smell of livestock. It didn't matter -- he had work to do here -- but he couldn't shake the feeling that he really didn't have a place with those people.
When a dazzling figure in white appeared in the field, he thought for a moment that he was hallucinating.
Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
“Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”
(Luke 2: 13-14)
They broke a cardinal rule: they all left the fields.
But when a chorus of heavenly angels tells you to go, you go, and you don't waste time. Following the directions the first angel had given they headed for the inn's stables. Sure enough, there amongst the animals were two adults and one tiny newborn.
The shepherds were quieted by the sight but the child's mother welcomed them warmly. She was calm with an air that she Knew Something, a fact the shepherds would discuss amongst themselves later. Under her watchful eyes, they knelt next to the tiny baby, taking him in and wondering what exactly this child would become, why it was that they were the first to know of his existence.
As they left, they couldn't contain their excitement over the night's events. They shouted the news, adding to the noise in town with a very different kind of joy.
When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.
(Luke 2: 17-19)
The shepherds had been right: the baby's mother did, in fact, Know Something. She wasn't yet sure of where these things were going, but she knew her baby was special. He had been chosen for a specific purpose, and for some reason she had been chosen as well.
She watched her husband as he held the baby and knew he had been carefully chosen as well. He was a godly man, but it wasn't every godly man that would have still married her after finding out she was pregnant, nor was it every man that would have accepted her explanation. During their long trek from Nazareth, he told her of a visit from an angel, much like her own story, and of his decision to stay with her. He had even talked of training the boy in his own profession, a sign to her that he was accepting him. Now, as she watched them together, she knew her husband had accepted this beautiful baby as his own.
She found herself wondering how much of this her own son knew. Was he too gifted with an explanation from birth? Would he grow up knowing his purpose? Would it gradually come to him as he aged?
After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”
(Matthew 2:1-2)
Their journey began as a star appeared. These scholars -- like the others around them -- believed that such heavenly events marked the birth of royalty. As was their custom, they set out to find this royalty, following the star as it led them to Judea.
When they asked the king himself who his heir would be, his confusion in turn confused them. True, they hadn't yet reached where they thought the star was resting, but surely a royal birth would be known to the current ruler.
They had read the ancient texts and were thrilled when those and the star led directly to Bethlehem. There, they found a boy born when the star appeared and were overjoyed and puzzled. This peasant boy was to be a great ruler? He was the son of a carpenter. A carpenter from a long line of rulers, perhaps, but that was ancient history. This was an average family in an average town, certainly nothing that would make you look twice.
Yet they knew what they had seen and followed and they had no doubt this was where they were to stop.
The boy's mother once again found herself watching. This child -- normal in appearance and upbringing, if not always in demeanor -- was receiving visits from distant men with expensive gifts. While she certainly had a mother's bias, this just proved further that he was special.
She could only wonder what might follow such a visit.
(Luke 2:1-3)
It wasn't just his inn; the whole town was crowded. The decree required that everyone return to their ancestral homes, which for many had meant long days of travel and a reception by family they hadn't seen in years. Sounds of family feasts and happy homecomings had been echoing down the city streets for the last few nights, a second harvest party for the year.
When a carpenter from Nazareth and his wife came from the direction of the only other inn in town, though, his hands were tied. They were different -- young, traveling alone, and she was very pregnant. The carpenter's family must have been long gone if they didn't have relatives with whom to stay, and the stress of the day was starting to show on the soon-to-be-father's face. His wife was still calm, but he knew the man would be hard-pressed to maintain his own calm if his wife went into labor before they were settled.
He did what he could -- there was no way he could turn away a couple in such need, if only because his wife would have his hide. A couple of cots in the garage wasn't much, but it was warm and dry and more than they were likely to find in the home of a stranger. Besides, the animals were quieter company than his other guests and the stable was close to his own house.
His wife brought them blankets and bedding. When she came back to the house, her mouth was set in a thin line -- the woman had just gone into labor, and she already knew for a fact that the town midwife had gone to her husband's village to register. She sent her husband scurrying for fresh hay while she gathered the clothes and blankets left over from their own last child and went back to the stable.
No first birth has ever been truly easy, but this young mother dealt well with the pain. Her husband was far more frantic until the moment the child arrived.
For the first time that night as the young mother held her baby, true calm settled over the stable. He was a beautiful child and surprisingly quiet. The innkeeper's wife would say for years that she was sure she saw the baby smile at her as she set him in his mother's arms.
As she slipped back the house to allow the little family some time to themselves, she was happier than she had been in months.
But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."
(Luke 2:10-12)
It was calmer among the herds. From their perches on the hillsides, the shepherds had watched the parties in town slowly die down as the night progressed. Their own herds were quiet, hunkering down for the night. A couple of the shepherds had dozed off, vowing to take the second or third watches if they could just get some sleep right now.
One young shepherd was in his own little world. His older brothers had moved on from the herds; one of them was managing another man's lands while the other was married and settled in town as a blacksmith. On the other hand, as a shepherd, he was just getting started. He was at the bottom of the social chain and knew that if he wandered into town that evening to join the family party, he'd smell of livestock. It didn't matter -- he had work to do here -- but he couldn't shake the feeling that he really didn't have a place with those people.
When a dazzling figure in white appeared in the field, he thought for a moment that he was hallucinating.
Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
“Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”
(Luke 2: 13-14)
They broke a cardinal rule: they all left the fields.
But when a chorus of heavenly angels tells you to go, you go, and you don't waste time. Following the directions the first angel had given they headed for the inn's stables. Sure enough, there amongst the animals were two adults and one tiny newborn.
The shepherds were quieted by the sight but the child's mother welcomed them warmly. She was calm with an air that she Knew Something, a fact the shepherds would discuss amongst themselves later. Under her watchful eyes, they knelt next to the tiny baby, taking him in and wondering what exactly this child would become, why it was that they were the first to know of his existence.
As they left, they couldn't contain their excitement over the night's events. They shouted the news, adding to the noise in town with a very different kind of joy.
When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.
(Luke 2: 17-19)
The shepherds had been right: the baby's mother did, in fact, Know Something. She wasn't yet sure of where these things were going, but she knew her baby was special. He had been chosen for a specific purpose, and for some reason she had been chosen as well.
She watched her husband as he held the baby and knew he had been carefully chosen as well. He was a godly man, but it wasn't every godly man that would have still married her after finding out she was pregnant, nor was it every man that would have accepted her explanation. During their long trek from Nazareth, he told her of a visit from an angel, much like her own story, and of his decision to stay with her. He had even talked of training the boy in his own profession, a sign to her that he was accepting him. Now, as she watched them together, she knew her husband had accepted this beautiful baby as his own.
She found herself wondering how much of this her own son knew. Was he too gifted with an explanation from birth? Would he grow up knowing his purpose? Would it gradually come to him as he aged?
After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”
(Matthew 2:1-2)
Their journey began as a star appeared. These scholars -- like the others around them -- believed that such heavenly events marked the birth of royalty. As was their custom, they set out to find this royalty, following the star as it led them to Judea.
When they asked the king himself who his heir would be, his confusion in turn confused them. True, they hadn't yet reached where they thought the star was resting, but surely a royal birth would be known to the current ruler.
They had read the ancient texts and were thrilled when those and the star led directly to Bethlehem. There, they found a boy born when the star appeared and were overjoyed and puzzled. This peasant boy was to be a great ruler? He was the son of a carpenter. A carpenter from a long line of rulers, perhaps, but that was ancient history. This was an average family in an average town, certainly nothing that would make you look twice.
Yet they knew what they had seen and followed and they had no doubt this was where they were to stop.
The boy's mother once again found herself watching. This child -- normal in appearance and upbringing, if not always in demeanor -- was receiving visits from distant men with expensive gifts. While she certainly had a mother's bias, this just proved further that he was special.
She could only wonder what might follow such a visit.
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