My, it is different this year, isn't it? Many of those things that make Christmas are gone. Was it “Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer?” Was it kids waiting in line to be hoisted onto Santa’s lap? Maybe a classic holiday movie like “It’s a Wonderful Life” or “A Christmas Story” or “Miracle on 34^th Street?” Perhaps it was that great old classic “A Charlie Brown Christmas.” Songs trigger memories. “Silver Bells,” “White Christmas,” I’ll Be Home for Christmas” or, for the sheer magic of the holiday, “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.” Our ladies play Christmas music starting at 9:15 every morning during Advent and this is my fifth Christmas here, but I have never heard "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer." But this year, because we cannot gather, because people we know are sick, because the world has been turned over, nothing seems like Christmas. But, lest we lose our perspective…….

          It couldn’t have happened at a worse time. Really, it was bad. Joseph was beside himself. Mary had gotten pregnant. Joseph knew it wasn’t his doing. He had spent years working toward that moment he would be able to marry Mary. The marriage had been arranged years before, when Mary was a tiny little girl. It was the way things were done. There was not supposed to be much, if any, contact between the betrothed couple. Joseph, learning his trade and making his way in life, preparing for that day when they would wed. Mary, growing up and learning all the things she would need to know as a young wife. But, there was still some contact. Joseph was able to see her grow up. She was with her family at synagogue, she was with her mother at the market, she would be at play with the other children. Joseph had seen her. Occasionally, in rare moments, they would even share a few words. It was just such an occasion that had set Joseph’s life into a turmoil. Mary had come to him and told him that she was pregnant, that she was pregnant with the Messiah. She said she was the virgin Isaiah had spoken of, the one who was to give birth to the Promised One. Joseph let his mind drift back to that moment. He had stared at the girl. Was she joking? No, there was a fear in her eyes. Well, if she wasn’t joking it could only mean that she had been unfaithful, that she had violated the oath her father had made with Joseph all those years before. If she was pregnant people would find out. They would blame Joseph. Perhaps both would be stoned to death. Even if they weren’t stoned, Joseph’s reputation would be ruined. There was only one thing to do. He had to turn her in and let the village elders deal with her. It would be horrible for her, but she had done something unspeakable.

          However, Joseph did care for the girl. He certainly wasn’t wealthy, but perhaps he could arrange for her to leave town. There were those who took care, quietly, of such people. There were ways. It would cost, but Joseph couldn’t bear to see young Mary harmed, perhaps even killed.

         And then came that fateful night. As Joseph slept that night he was visited by an angel. This creature verified all that Mary had said. After all of these centuries, Messiah was coming. And Joseph now had a special job. He was to raise the child. Joseph woke from the dream and did as he was instructed, but it was a hard thing. Mary was fixed on the idea of having the Messiah. Joseph, on the other hand, had to give consideration to other things. For one, how do you keep a pregnancy secret? People were going to know! How was this to be handled? That seemed to be working out when Mary went off to her cousin Elizabeth’s home. They would have lots to talk about, anyway. The word was that Elizabeth, an old woman, was also pregnant. She was supposed to bear the forerunner, the one prophecy said would show the way for Messiah. Joseph hadn’t really believed that when he had heard the news, but she was a woman well past the age of giving birth, yet she was going to give birth. That deserved some consideration, a miracle in itself. Now Joseph knew that Mary would bear the Messiah, so it did make a kind of weird sense. Mary going to live with Elizabeth for a time, helping her with the birth of the forerunner, all was a good thing. Maybe Mary would be there for her own birthing. It seemed the perfect solution. Eventually, Joseph would go there, take Mary and the Child and move to a place where no one knew them and start their family life.

          Then, the horrible news. Word came directly from Rome. A census was to be taken. Everyone had to go back to their family’s town of origin. This was a nightmare. Mary was already in the area, since Zechariah, Elizabeth’s husband, who was a priest at the Temple and had to live near Jerusalem. But this changed everything. Mary would have to return to Nazareth so that she could travel with Joseph, her betrothed husband, to his town, which was Bethlehem, but she was very pregnant. Not only that, but Joseph’s whole family would be there. They would figure it out, someone would do the math. They would know. Worse, because Mary had been living with Elizabeth, Zechariah would be implicated in the crime of concealing a woman of low morals. This was bad, very bad.

          More than once, as the couple traveled south from Nazareth toward Jerusalem, Joseph had wondered how this would all work out. Out of necessity, they stayed away from other travelers. Mary was obviously in distress. If they could have stopped along the way, but that couldn’t happen. Joseph had to be in Bethlehem. And Mary would have to give birth in Bethlehem. That was what the prophecy had said, so it had to happen that way. When she gave birth, it would all be over. Mary’s premarital pregnancy would be discovered. There would have to be a mid-wife, after all. Questions would be asked. Somehow, Joseph would wind up with the baby. The angel said he would name the child and if he named Him, that meant he would be raising Him. But, what of Mary. No one would believe her. Joseph couldn’t see the end being good.

          Mary was very close to giving birth. They had to hurry. The trip was dragging on and for Mary it was excruciating. They arrived as evening fell, going to a boarding house for a place to stay. Bethlehem was a very small town and there were not many such places. As it happened, the boarding house was full. The keeper of the house offered a stable, which Joseph accepted. What choice did he have?

          And this is where Joseph found himself. Mary was suffering. The only place he could put her was in this smelly stable. Not knowing what else to do, he lined a manger with straw to place the Baby when He came. And how on earth was that to happen? Give him a saw or a hammer or a planer and Joseph was in his element. Given time and materials, Joseph could build a bed for Mary to be laying in and build a proper crib to lay the child in. But all this was rushing on so fast. He didn’t know how to deliver a baby! How did this all fit into God’s plan? It was out of control, or at least that was what Joseph saw.

          Mary called out. It was time! Joseph pulled himself together. He had to handle this. The Baby was coming…….there He was! Joseph lifted the Baby and quickly wrapped Him in some scraps of clothing. His heart was pounding, sweat ran down his face. He looked over at Mary and lay the Baby down in the manger to see to her. What was he supposed to do now?

          And then, the door flew open. Men, apparently shepherds based on their clothing, rushed into the room. There was praise on their lips as they ran. Sizing up the situation, they went into action. Joseph stepped aside. These men, giving praise and practically shouting, knew all about giving birth and taking care of all the needs. Now, here as the promised Lamb was born, who better to tend to the situation that these shepherds?

          God had seen to it all.

          At the beginning of this blog, I asked what it was that made Christmas special to you. I named off some things that are made up, pretend things. They have little, if anything, to do with the truth. For me as I grew up, even the religious story seemed wrong somehow. It seems in the telling of it, that Mary and Joseph were as cool as cucumbers throughout. Everything was under control. I always thought that if I was Joseph, I would be going crazy. Mary and Joseph always seem to be portrayed as the same age, but they weren’t. According to the practice of the Jews, Mary would have been much younger. Then there is the whole thing about travel. In the narrative we are used to, Mary rides a donkey to Bethlehem. I have ridden a donkey. I cannot imagine a woman, nine months pregnant, riding a donkey the 110 miles from Nazareth. With mountains between the two places, Mary would have been lucky to have done 20 miles a day. So, a trip of six days on a donkey. These people were walkers. More likely they walked. Maybe she rode in a cart. But I doubt it was a donkey.

And I have always wondered about a carpenter delivering a baby. Joseph was one of the finest men we see in the Bible. God chose Him to raise His Son. But, he was a carpenter. The shepherds, I believe, were there to do more than give praise. They were experts and God used them.

The Roman Catholic Church created a long, drawn out narrative about the birth of Jesus from just three New Testament chapters. We have the name of the inn keeper, multiple animals, a drummer boy, wise men attending the birth, a star in the sky, snow in Bethlehem, calm and collected people and a sweet infant Baby who does not cry. I prefer to think God used real people doing the things real people do and having the fears and hopes real people have. It is a mighty story, a wonderful story. Take away the make-believe and it gets better and better.

        Here is a challenge for you. If you are reading this, you can read the Bible. For me, the real Christmas story is something I treasure. Please, read Matthew 1 and Luke 1 and 2 the first part of 3 and e-mail me back with your thoughts. Forget what you have ‘known’ all your lives, and tell me what you see when you actually read the chapters. Blessings to all as you search His Word. My e-mail is oldirishguy51@yahoo.com