Showing posts with label birth of Christ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birth of Christ. Show all posts

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Chapter 8: Centurion, Part 1

At Caesarea there was a man named Cornelius, a centurion in what was known as the Italian Regiment.


Over the past few chapters we have search for 
faith in the realm of anticipation and expectation. 
Today we move into a new area of our search, 
where frustration and violence are the norm.


Faith doesn’t just happen.  There is a thought, an event or even 
just a casual word from a stranger that just 
seems so out of the ordinary that you can’t ignore it.  Faith invades 
your status quo at that moment and throws fear, 
uncertainty, even doubt into your conventional wisdom.  
You first thought on this invasion:  What’s the catch?.  
One might say that the initial evidence of real faith is ... suspicion.


We are at an outdoor religious service.  
People are flocking to hear an evangelist  in animal skins.  
He is baptisizing them in a muddy, shallow, slow moving river 
flowing through a desert wilderness. 
This is a familiar scene for many of us.  
But we are not concerned with the familiar.  
Over there, on that outcropping of rock above the river, 
is a man in a dull red cloak, huddled in the shadows of the rock.  
He is out of place in this gathering.  
That’s who we are looking for.  


Sir, a moment of your time.


I haven’t got time for you.  Be on your way.


We just have a few questions.  We won’t give you away.


What?  What do you mean?


We mean that we know you aren’t here to listen to the Baptist.


How do you know that?


You seem quite content with what and who you are.  
You are not a seeker of absolution.


And what am I then?


A servant of the status quo.  A Soldier.


That’s is very observant.


It wasn’t hard.  You are clean shaven with cropped hair in a land in 
where beards and long hair are the fashion.  
Also, your short sword was glistening in the sun.


Damn!  I thought I had that covered.


So.  May we talk a bit?  We are not from around here either 
so we have no agenda against you or your mission, whatever it may be.


There seems to be no harm in talking. I am not here in secret.  I’m juist being discrete.  What are your questions?


What are you doing here?


I thought you weren’t interested in my mission?


We have no agenda against it.  That doesn’t mean we have no interest in it.  
You are out of place here.  We are interested in the out of place.


Alright.  That man down there -- the baptist -- is causing quite a stir in both Jerusalem and Ceasaria.  Even though he hasn’t gone to either city.  I was ordered to find out what he is doing and why...and if it poses a threat.  He is, as you put it, out of place in our view of things.


And is he a threat?


Not as I can see.  In fact, he has some benefit to Rome.


How so?


He is insulting the local leaders; impuning their integrity.  And the people listen to him.  That weakens the leaders’ authority.  Makes them less likely to be able to stand up to the Roman authority.


But doesn’t that strengthen subversive movements that might be a threat?


Those kind of movements are poorly equipped, undisciplined and under trained.  They cannot stand up to the army of Rome.  They are merely an annoyance.


So you will be leaving soon?


Not so sure.


Why?


I am a soldier.  I understand authority.   A few minutes ago, a man came forward to be baptized.  The baptist stopped his preaching and talked quietly with him, deferentially. He recognizes this new man’s authority...and he hasn’t recognized any man’s authority.  The baptist has a following but not the desire to lead.  If he has found someone to submit to, his people will turn and follow whoever he tells them to.  Look!  There!  The baptist has sent two of his own after the new man.  That’s where the threat lies.  Not in the baptist.  He is now my mission.  I will follow him and find out what his plan is.


Very interesting.  We’ll catch up with you later.

Thursday, December 31, 2009

Chapter 7: Joseph, Part 3


When they had gone, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream. "Get up," he said, "take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him."


Joseph, back to you.  What was it like for you after the visitors left?


Well, the visitor didn't stop for quite a while, but In the months that passed I set up shop in Bethlehem, right there in the cave.  Did rather well, too.  So did he.  A healthy boy with a good appetite and a strong pair of lungs!  Born to teach to large crowds, he was.  When he was almost three, I had another of those strange dreams.  Again with the light and the smell of incense.  But this time the message was worrisome.  We were told to leave Israel because King Herod wanted to kill Jesus!   We were to move to Egypt and stay there until we were told otherwise. A few years later, Herod died.  My third and final dream told us the good news and we returned...to Nazareth, of all places!  I’m not sure why, it just seemed the right thing to do.  The boy grew up there.


I imagine the townspeople had some lingering questions,


Yes, there was a lot of talk about him and his mother, but he became a fine carpenter, a valued member of the community...a righteous man. And one more thing.  He is my son and I love him.  Any man who has anything against him, he should come through me first! “Listen to me, such a terror! Ah, well.  There's not much more I can tell you.  Did you get what you needed?


 I believe you answered all my questions.  Thank you, Joseph.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Chapter 6: The Shepherd

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night.   An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.  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. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told. 


Faith is not the sole possession of society’s cream.  In fact, it bubbles out most profusely from the lower levels.  And even though that is where it resides in abundance, it always seems surprising to those it comes to.  
Sir,  may we speak to you for a moment.


I didn’t do it.


Didn’t do what?


Whatever  you think I did.  I’ve been out here all year.  I have witnesses.


That’s what I'd like to talk to you about: your life, 
as a shepherd, and what you’ve seen out here.


Oh.  You know about that.


A bit.  Tell us about your life, first.  I’ve always thought
being a shepherd would be a great way of life.


Not really, the life of a shepherd is quite boring.  Sheep don’t do much more than eat, sleep, stink and run into stationary objects. Looking after these stupid animals is not really mentally stimulating.


So why do you do it?


Keeps us out of trouble, mostly.  You see, when the job gets to us... like when we start bleating along with the sheep.  We revert to our regular lifestyles.  We go to town for a little excitement.  A little drinking, some singing, some fighting ... and a Iittle thievery to pay for it all.  Needless to say, the townspeopIe don't like to see shepherds come in from the fields.  Most of us have been run out of town one or more times in our lives and shepherding is a good thing to do while one lets things cool down a bit.


Nobody's perfect.


...and some of us are considerably less than.  That’s why this whole thing is confusing to me.


What thing?


That night was so clear.. so beautiful...so bright. The star hung in the sky and lit up everything. None of us could say anything. We just stared at the star.  The sheep were caIm, too. In fact, they ceased bleating altogether.  Then he... she...it appeared!  So bright.  So powerful. We wanted to run but we were to terrified.
“Don't be afraid," it said. 


Were you?


Petrified.  That’s why we didn’t run away.  Then it said, “I bring you tidings of great joy.  Today your savior has come, born in the City of David: Christ the Lord. You will find him in a manger, wrapped in his father's burial cloth."


Then what happened?


Well, the sky exploded.  There were thousands of...angels ... I think that’s what they they were... a singing the most beautiful and powerful psalms I had ever heard. Then...they were gone.  Just gone.  


What did you do?


We went. I mean, after a command like that, are you going to stay home? And we found him, just like the angel said. He was - a really nice baby. Real healthy. And his parents were real nice too. They welcomed us and treated us like members of their family. You know, we never doubted that this was the Messiah. Even though he was in such a nasty, dirty place. I mean, you don't get an army of angels telling you about this sort of thing unless it's true or you’re crazy. And we're not crazy.  We're just not trustworthy.


And that's where it ended for you?


No, not really.  About a year later, this caravan came by and we were called in to see these noblemen..or were they priests? I don't know. They were really rich. They asked us a lot of questions about the baby. All kinds of questions.  It turned out that they were only guessing that he existed. They never saw any angels. They just followed the star. They weren't sure what they were looking for. After we told them what we could, they left the next day.


What did you think about that?


Actually, that's what really confuses me. I mean, I'm a Jew, one of God's chosen people, and I should have some idea as far as what he has in mind. But I just don't understand.  Why does he make intelligent, honest noblemen guess about the most important event in the history of mankind, but he sends an army of angels to tell sinners exactly what is going on. What kind of God chooses scoundrels over holy men?


Thursday, December 24, 2009

Chapter 5: Joseph, Part 2 -- Birthday

But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.


OK, Joseph, back to you.  
So you had decided to marry her 
regardless of the consequences 
and you decided to send Mary off to live  
with relatives for the pregnancy term.  
Did that resolve the problems?


Hardly, Mary went to live with Elisabeth, but the gossip began almost the day she left.  Once she was the darling of the village and now she was a harlot.  Some of my so-called friends said they were positive the father was a Roman centurion.  Job had such friends.  I resolved to leave this den of vipers and join her in Jerusalem, showing my belief in her innocence.  I would leave before they could ruin her life--or take it from her. Then, I had my own visitation.


You saw an angel?


No.  I had a dream.  Listen, I’m a simple man.  I understand wood and nails.  I have scars and callouses.  God does not speak to men like me.  Or so I thought.  The night before I left for Jerusalem I had a dream.  I dreamt I was in my home, but it was very bright.  There were no shadows.  And there was an odor, sweet, musty.  It smelled like the Temple on the high holy days.  And there was a voice calling my name.
“Joseph, son of David,” the voice said.  “Do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife.  Her child is conceived of the Holy Spirit and you will name him Jesus for he will save his people from their sins.”
Well, so much for my plans.  I am wary of dreams.  But I knew what I knew.  I loved Mary and she loved me.  Her pregnancy was something mysterious and wonderful.  And the Lord was with us.  As I said, I am a simple man.  I know there was a great purpose in all of this.


So, what did you do then?


I started packing up my family to move out of Nazareth; to start a new life where we would be free of accusations and the child would have a chance for a normal life.  I would teach him my trade and make him into a fine carpenter ... if nothing else. And I would be his father.


And now you were certain of God’s plan and what you had to do.


Of course not. God doesn’t tell you the whole story.  He tells you what you need to know.  Some things you accept as they come and some you have to figure out on your own.  We had to leave town, but I had no idea where to go.  Setting up shop in a new village would be difficult.  Most already had the necessary tradesmen and competition is rarely welcome.    But God gave us Ceasar to solve that problem.


Wait,  Ceasar solved your problem?


Yes. In his “infinite” wisdom, Ceasar chose that moment to show how he had the world under his thumb.  He required everyone to return to their ancestral home to be counted and taxed.  As a descendent of David, I was to go to Bethlehem.  It took a few months to complete my business in Nazareth.  I sent my sons to live with relatives until I had established our home.  Then I set out to get Mary.


And how was that reunion?


I was not quite prepared for what I was to see.  My little Mary was quite round.  I laughed at the sight, half for the sheer joy of seeing her again.  She was a little cross with me for laughing, but I couldn’t help myself.  Then I told her of the dream and my plans to take her to Bethlehem with me.  She acted overjoyed.  But I could see in her eyes she was not surprised.  She knew I would not abandon her.  She trusted me completely.
Elisabeth’s husband performed the marriage ceremony in private and we left for Bethlehem a few days later. 

I understand that it was a long and difficult trip.


Actually it  was relatively short--just 10 miles which is basically a half day’s journey.  But moving a women ready to give birth at any time, along with all your worldly goods on the back of a donkey is not an easy task.  We had many rest stops.  It took two days.


Like I said... So what was it like going home


Shocking.  Little Bethlehem Ephratha was not so little now.  The streets and alleys were choked with humanity.  
King David was a prolific father.


Apparently.  


There were Roman soldiers, town officials, profiteers, normal residents and hundreds, no, thousands of pilgrims milling about.  It was like a human ant nest.  The pilgrim encampment reached half a mile beyond the village border.  


But you didn’t plan on staying in the encampment?


Not with a woman about to give birth.  But all forms of lodging were packed.  I pleaded with everyone who had a building to let my wife stay with them while I looked for permanent lodging, but no one had any room.  I had almost given up hope as I talked -- argued really -- with the owner of the last inn in town, when Mary cried out.  She said it was time!


And how did you respond?


Like any mature adult.  I panicked, grabbed the innkeeper by his cloak, lifted him off the ground and demanded a place for the mother to have the child.  One look in my eyes apparently opened his memory.  He said there were a group of caves just behind the inn that were used to house livestock.  He said they were not much, but they were dry and warm and there was plenty of fresh straw for bedding.  
I let him down and apologized for my reaction, but he just smiled and said he would have done the same.  He called for his wife and servants to assist us and spoke a blessing over us.  I returned the favor over his household and we went to the cave.
It was true.  The accommodations weren’t much.  I’m not a tall man, yet I had to stoop over once inside.  And the smell was almost overwhelming.  The innkeeper’s wife said she would return shortly to assist Mary and then left us alone.  Mary went into hard labor almost immediately.
I had no idea what to do.  I called out for help, but no one responded.  Mary said I would have to help, but no man in Israel is a midwife.  I was not prepared for this.  I cleared an area, piled some straw on the ground and covered it with my cloak to make a bed.  She collapsed on it as she convulsed and cried out.  I began yelling for help again, but Mary stopped me and took my hands.
“Joseph, I know you are frightened,” she said, “but God is with us and there is no one I trust more than you.  I know what must be done.  All you need to do is know that I love you, pray and help when I ask...in that order.”  Then she smiled at me.  Then she screamed.


Were you still in a panic?


Amazingly enough, no  I was nervous as a cat, but God was with us.  Then, it began.
I had never seen so much blood in my life and everything seemed to happen so fast.  I was the first to see him.  The first to hold him.  The first to comfort him.  I placed him in Mary’s arms and severed the umbilical, just as she told me.  I took fresh water and washed him and then looked for a blanket.   All I could find was the burial cloth I had packed for myself, as we are taught to do.  I wrapped him in the cloth and he went to sleep in my arms.  I had never seen anything more wonderful in my life.


Sounds like a very special moment.


And a moment only.  The innkeeper’s wife came in about that time with water and towels to assist in the birth.  She looked at the blood and afterbirth covering our clothes and her eyes just about popped out of her head.  She chased me out of the cave and said I was not to return for at least one hour.


Sounds like a fairly common experience for most fathers.  How did you pass the time?


I went to the well to wash, and put on clean clothes.  I took a deep breath and started to shake.  ‘What do I do now, Lord?’ I asked out loud.  I got my tools out, converted a wooden manger into a a cradle.  It was very crude, but it would be needed and, well, I needed to do something useful.


Most men are usually out bragging at that moment.  Why were you so introspective?


Because I wasn’t sure how necessary I was in all of this.  This child was not my son and I wasn’t really sure who this woman I married was. Not anymore.  I knew the Lord had something in mind, but I was in the dark about it.  I wondered if I had missed something wonderful.  I just felt ... useless.
Well, I returned to the cave and presented by gift.  The innkeeper’s wife left us alone again and Mary looked up at me, smiling.  Then, well, I guess she read my mind.  “She said, ‘Oh, Joseph!  This is the most precious night in the history of the world.  The promise of our Lord has been fulfilled.  And you, my wonderful husband, are the most magnificent of all possible husbands.”
I dropped my head and started to turn away.   I held up the crib and said that what I had given was so little.  I said I was not worthy of the honor of having her as my wife.  Then she got angry.
”Joseph, look at me!  You have sacrificed your pride for me and for this child when you had every right to put me away.  You believed in my love for you even in the face of evidence the proved otherwise.  and you have stayed faithful to God when other men would have turned from Him.  Because of all this, He is with you now and He is in my words.  You have given so much, asked nothing in return, and yet you continue to give.”


Sounds like quite a statement of worth.


The words were too lofty for me, but still I hold them dear to this day.  She said my work would be to protect this child, to provide for him and raise him as my own.  She said that because I am a common man, because I am nothing in the eyes of the world, I would provide the means to fulfill prophesy.  “Remember, Joseph?  The prophet said he would would be common, too.  And you will teach him the glory of humility.”
She said I would teach him a common trade, raise him as a common man, lowly in heart.  “Your simplicity is your greatest gift, husband.”
Then, she began to weep as she said the most wonderful and terrifying thing.  “Joseph, my heart aches for you, for your task is so hard.  Few people will understand your sacrifice, but I know, more than ever, that you are the only man who could accomplish this task.  You, too, are chosen by Jehovah!”
I dropped my knees beside her and we both cried for a long time in each others arms.  She finally fell asleep in my arms and the child in hers, but i could not sleep.  I stayed awake the whole night, staring at them and pondering the future... and worshipping God.


Another special moment.  Did this one last?


Of course not.  That’s when the visitors started showing up.


Visitors?


Yes, all kinds of people. At first, there were common people.  VERY common.  The types that proper people might avoid.  Them came the prophets, scholars, rich men from foreign lands.  All of them had the same story.  They had been “sent” to worship the boy.  Strange people.


It must have been quite the honor to entertain such guests.


You would think so, wouldn’t you?  For the most part, it was annoying.


Annoying?


Yes, you see, all these learned accomplished men had all sorts of ideas about what and who the boy was and what he was going to do and how he was going to do it.  But only a few of these visitors who actually seemed to really understand the truth.  And these few were the most unlikely to demonstrate wisdom.


And who were they?


Ah, now that is a very good question.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Chapter 4: Elizabeth

After this his wife Elizabeth became pregnant and for five months remained in seclusion.  "The Lord has done this for me," she said. "In these days he has shown his favor and taken away my disgrace among the people." 


Elizabeth,  your husband seems to think that your experience 
in faith was significantly different  than your his.  
Did you find patience to be a path to building your faith?


My patience was a fact of life.  I had no choice but to be patient.  What I discovered was that faith generally comes only after significant humiliation.


How in the world does humiliation build faith?


I had no lack of advice or condemnation about how I should live my life and what I was doing wrong.  The only thing I had to hold onto was the knowledge that, for the most part, I lived my life honoring God.  That he had not chosen to honor me, for the most part, was not an issue.


You live a good life and get nothing for it?  
That hardly seems fair.


Fair? What is fair?  Many people are disappointed by what life hands them, but few realize that what God had in mind originally is not what he gets from us.  I suppose that’s what you get when you turn the course of destiny over to a lot of free-willed individuals who don’t recognize God’s sovereignty.  


Point taken.


Likewise what we ask of God generally is not what he ends up giving us, even if the end result is what we want.   So God has honored me with this child, even if it wasn’t when or how that I wanted it.  You call that faith.  I call it realism


So you’re saying that real faith is enjoying the outcome, no matter how the trip differs from the plan.


Works for me.


Monday, December 21, 2009

Chapter 3: Zechariah

  In the time of Herod king of Judea there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly division of Abijah; his wife Elizabeth was also a descendant of Aaron. Both of them were upright in the sight of God, observing all the Lord's commandments and regulations blamelessly.  But they had no children, because Elizabeth was barren; and they were both well along in years. 
But the angel said to him: "Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to give him the name John. 
Zechariah asked the angel, "How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years."   The angel answered, "I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to tell you this good news. And now you will be silent and not able to speak until the day this happens, because you did not believe my words, which will come true at their proper time." 


Rabbi, you have one of the stranger 
stories in this quest for faith.


Yes, it has been strange... and wonderful ...and painful.  


How is it painful?


Because sometimes faith must be forced upon us.”


OK.  I’ll bite.  How is faith forced on you?


The activity of faithfulness is sometimes detrimental to the having of faith.  You can be so busy with the process of your calling that you forget that the process is meant to draw you closer to God.  


So, you’re saying that being a man of God, a minister, 
makes it difficult for you to have faith.


No, no.  It’s not the being that’s the problem. It’s the doing.  Doing the things of God is supposed to show us God in us, and with us.  But you can sometimes concentrate on doing everything just so; be so adamant and keeping the traditions, that it makes it difficult for God to break through to us with something new.


Difficult but not impossible.
Exactly, with God nothing is impossible. He is always faithful to us, even when we are unfaithful in the activity of our faithfulness .  He never forgets the reason He calls us.  And he will remind us whatever way is most expedient.  


And how did he remind you?


For me, it was a club to the head.  For my wife it was a kiss.”