As we approach the celebration of Christmas I thought I’d do a wee bit of writing on the subject, but from a different perspective. This stretches the bounds of my writing skills but the idea came to me so hopefully it will be at least partially entertaining and hopefully won’t mark me as a heretic.

As Mary adjusted her gown, holding it up and out a little bit from her swollen belly she let out a small groan of pain. The cloth had rubbed her skin sore and she wished that she could have just stayed at home in Nazereth. Other travellers more well to do than a carpenter had various modes of transportation but she and her husband Joseph were on foot making their way to the census destination of Bethlehem. Joseph hadn’t said anything in a while and her young mind, no more than 14 years, was full of thoughts of this little one inside her. His kicking had become more regular and while it was fun, his pushing on her bladder as they walked the road was far from amusing. Her thoughts wandered again to the angel who had shown up in her room and scared her half to death. A messenger from God saying she would carry a child. While it was quite an honor the social pressure the pregnancy put on her was incredible. Eight months ago Mary had been on the road to see her cousin Elizabeth. Barely pregnant… an easier walk.

Joseph, being a young carpenter, not really excited about the prospect of being a father. Being a liberal jew meant he would divorce Mary quietly rather than making a scene like the Pharisees would have done. The anger that he felt over Mary’s pregnancy was replaced by shock when Mary’s story of an angel was confirmed by an angle of his own! Joseph, being smarter than to question God when an messenger of His showed up went along with things. Each time he saw Mary and the gradual development in her abdomen he was reminded of the name he had not picked out for the boy he was not the father of: Jesus.

During this long walk he had had lots of time to think but hadn’t really said a lot to Mary about it because he didn’t want her to be under any more pressure than she was already under. The last thing he needed was a delivery on the road. Mary would need time to rest after the delivery and if there was any complication he would need help. Heaven knew that a carpenter could hew wood, form structures, build things… but they were not so good at medical procedures. Cut wood? Sure. Cut an umbilical chord? No. The walk would be quiet, hopefully with little interaction with robbers who were notoriously setting upon people with death a common side effect.

“What are you thinking, ” Mary asked.
“Nothing.”
“My mother warned me that men said that when they were thinking the most. We haven’t been married long enough for me to read your mind yet!”
“Fine. I’m thinking about Jesus, angels, social pressure and this poorly timed census. Are you doing OK? The last thing we need is a road side delivery. It would fit the ticket given the chaos this pregnancy so far.”
“Joseph, you know I didn’t plan this, but God did. It’s not fair for you to hold this over me. After nine months I figured that you’d ‘get it.’ You don’t even have to carry the baby, get a sore back from walking miles and miles, swollen ankles and other swollen body parts. I’d expect your part to be the easiest: name him Jesus.” A reply, a complaint and a reminder.

Joseph, a little irritated, and being a typical man wanted to quit the conversation hoping that he could think of something else that would be innovative in his labors with the wood. A new way to construct furniture – faster, smarter building – anything but fatherhood. In all honesty he was excited about the prospect because it was something that was a priveledge. Given that no one else knew with any certainty what they were having his knowledge of the boy coming was rather unique. He thought of how he would teach Jesus about the grain of the wood, how to handle the tools, and how to negotiate for higher sale prices with customers – something every business man needed to know how to do. Joseph relished his ability to negotiate – it made him feel good to be able to get the best price on wood and then sell it for a little more so that he could save up for other things he needed, wanted or for Mary’s needs. Soon he’d need to cover the expense of a young boy. An arrow in his quiver as the Psalms said. So much had been foretold in the Psalms about Jesus and so he smiled to himself. The father of the King of Israel and he was only a carpenter.

Mary saw the smile and started to ask the question again, “What are you smiling about?”

It was only a modification of the question of thought, but it was different so Joseph pacified her with a summmary, “I’m going to be the father of a king, The King. I wonder if I’ll get to wear purple, or if we’ll just be dressed in the finest clothes. I hope that we get our own chariots to go about in… and no more censuses to go to!”

“Praise God,” Mary replied with a chuckle of enthusiasm – a break from her chafed skin and the serious pain that throbbed in her legs. Please Lord, let this baby come soon, but not until we reach Bethlehem. And if you don’t mind, can we please have a private room. I praise you for your wisdom and ask your blessings. Amen.

Silence came again as the two paced themselves along the road. Once again the rhythm of their feet was their only contribution to the sounds of the road as they and other travellers made their way to Bethlehem, a consequence of Hared’s rulership over Israel.

[To be continued…]