Bethlehem

A Meditation on the Nativity from the perspective of St. Joseph:

We have traveled many miles to Bethlehem.  Mary and I are hungry, thirsty, and exhausted. So often she looks at me and smiles her gentle smile and I know that she is praying as I am praying. Yes, we are weary but at peace.  The journey will soon be over.  We will find an inn and rest.  Then we can report for the census tomorrow and return home to Nazareth.

Then Mary says very softly, “It is time.”  It is too soon.  We don’t have a place to stay. The sun has set and it is bitter cold.  I have given Mary my cloak and she is still shivering. I go from inn to inn and get more worried as time and again they say there is no room.  I search their faces for some shred of compassion – a baby is going to be born.  Mary and Jesus need shelter.  I can’t let them down.

Why is this happening? My dear Mary can’t give birth in the street.  I even plead with one man, but Mary says “It is okay. Don’t insist, Joseph.”  She is so calm.  I meet her gaze and see only love, compassion, and trust; I know that somehow it will be okay. I keep knocking on doors.  Finally, I am offered a place in the stables, a cave really.  The animals are there, but it is warm and dry.

I don’t understand why this is happening, but I trust that Our Father has His reasons.  I prepare a place for Mary.  I look for a place to prepare for Jesus and I remember the crib I made him – it’s back in Nazareth.  The hours I spent lovingly carving it, putting my whole self into that crib.  I wanted it to be perfect for Him. All that is in front of me is a manger – a feeding trough.  There is clean hay to put in it and use it as a bed.  I am thankful for the clean hay.

Mary settles in and I sit and pray.  Suddenly there is a brilliant flash of light and I hear baby Jesus crying.  He is here.  I wait until Mary has wrapped him in cloth and I go and kneel before Him.  Mary smiles and says, “Here Joseph, hold Him.”  Hold Him? Hold God?  I am about to say no, but He looks at me and smiles and then gives a little shiver from the cold.  I go to Him and hold Him close to my heart.  I will keep you warm, My Lord.

After a while I hear noises outside.  “Who’s there?”  “It is only us. We are shepherds.  The angels told us the King of kings is here.  We want to worship Him.”  I pull aside the curtain and they file in.  They tell me how thousands of angels filled the sky and sang so sweetly that they would never forget that music, that love, that joy they felt.  They came at once.  As they see Him they kneel down in homage.  I see their grubby faces transform into radiant joy.

I begin to contemplate all of this.  Shepherds.  The poorest and humblest of our people, yet the angels came to them.  And they, they believed.  No questions, no doubts.  God is born and lying in a manger, go worship Him. And they did. Such reverence, such love, such faith. 

And now I understand why God chose a stable; the innkeepers would have never let them in.  The dynasty of kings came from a shepherd such as these – David, a man after God’s own heart.  The humble and pure of heart draw God’s loving glance.  These shepherds are the faithful ones who have waited in joyful hope.  And He has come to them.  He has met them where they are. He chose this stable so that he could come to them, the faithful ones.  And the last shall be first. Praise God.

Pope Francis has declared the Year of St. Joseph from December 8, 2020 to December 8, 2021 and granted Plenary Indulgences. For more information, go to: Vatican News