Holidays - Seasons Greetings!

“Joseph.” It was a soft call, but he heard it. At once, he picked up the second jar of water and hurried inside. The two lamps still shed a soft glow over the stable, even though it seemed years since they had been lighted.

The first thing he noticed was his wife. Mary was sitting tailor-fashion with her back against a manger wall. Her face was clean; her hair had been brushed. There were blue hollows under her eyes. She smiled at her husband and nodded. Then she stood.

She beckoned him to come closer. Joseph, mouth agape, followed her to a little manger. It had been cleaned but, where the animals had nipped the edges of the wood, the boards were worn and splintered. In the manger were the broad bolts of white swaddling she had brought on the trip. They were doubled underneath and over the top of the baby.

Mary smiled at her husband as he bent far over to look.

There, among the cloths, he saw the tiny red face of an infant. This, said Joseph to himself, is the one of whom the angel spoke. He dropped to his knees beside the manger. This was the messiah.

Down in the valley, sheep huddled against the chill. The shepherds sat on little eminences, dozing. The herds wandered by day, up and down the grasslands of Judea, always edging closer to Jerusalem, the big market for sheep. Those without blemish brought a good price as sacrificial animals for the temple. The others were sold for shearing and for food.

The people of the town scorned the shepherds. They were wanderers. They had no roots. They seldom married and, when they did, they stripped the soil from the hillsides, exposing the soft white rock beneath. The men carved apartments in these hills, and raised their families remote from the towns.

Some were dozing, a few were watching, when the deep night sky was split with light. It was brighter than day, more like staring at a noon sun, and the sleeping shepherds awakened and, in fear, hid their eyes in the folds of their garments. After a moment, the intense light faded, and an angel appeared in bodily form, standing in air over the valley.

The herders were terrified and their sheep began to run in tight circles. “Do not fear,” the angel said slowly, and the words seemed to echo off both sides of the valley of Bethlehem. Some of the men took heart and looked up. Some did not. “Listen,” the angel said, “I bring you good news of great joy which is in store for the whole nation.”

Good news? This would make any Jew open his eyes and lift them to the skies. They had been afraid of the justice and vengeance of God for centuries. They had worshiped carefully, with respect for all of the nuances of ritual; for fear that God might be displeased and visit unhappiness upon their people. Now-good news?

They looked up hopefully and the angel spoke again.

The voice seemed to permeate the valley. “A savior,” the angel said, “who is the Lord Messiah, was born to you today in David’s town. And this will serve you as a token: you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and cradled in a manger.”

The shepherds repeated the words. “A savior… Lord Messiah… David’s town… infant in a manger.” There was nothing frightening in that news. The angel had spoken correctly. It was good news. It was better than good news. It was the long-awaited news. It was the thing which had been promised by God a long time ago. It was the advent of him who would save the people of the world.

The dark brown eyes of the shepherds studied the angel and saw the effulgent light on the sheep and the rocky sides of the hills, and they knew that they were not sleeping. This thing was happening; happening to lonely and despised men in a valley beneath Bethlehem.

They were still dwelling on the wonders of God and his works when the angel was joined by hundreds of others, who appeared brightly in the night sky, and began to sing in a heavenly chorus:

“Glory to God in the heavens above, and on earth peace to men of good will.”