Innocence – A Christmas Story – part 3

As time passed the events of those few days faded in my memory. For the first few days I would take them out, polish them up and play them over again in my head, hoping to hear again the words that had been told to me, and picture the glories of what I had seen. But then came the soldiers. They asked us for the baby born to be king, and when we did not tell them, because we did not know, they carried out their terrible task to pull from each screaming mother any baby boy aged two years or under, and kill him. That included my baby brother. He was torn from my mother’s grasp while soldiers held her and father to stop them from interfering, while one man took his sword, and with a look for confirmation from the centurion killed my brother. When they let mother go she ran screaming to his lifeless body and threw herself over him as if she could give him life again. Father would have fought with the soldiers, but one held a sword at my older brother’s throat and promised that if he saw him try anything funny, he would come back and kill him as well. Father looked into his eyes and saw the truth of what he said, and with difficulty held himself in check. I ran to him and put my arms around him. The family tableau, mother, father and children, alive and dead holding each other up watched the soldiers march away watched by the rest of the guests in the caravansery.

As time passed the birth and the death became more dream like, a tangled dream in which I joined the Messiah’s army, poor woman that I am, and fought the hated Romans at the gates of Jerusalem. I heard about the prophet Jesus of Nazareth, and waited eagerly to see if he was the man. To see whether the word of the prophets was going to be fulfilled in him. The name was certainly right, but there were many men called Jesus. But this one was a healer and preacher of the word of Yahweh, he was not a king coming with a mighty army. I didn’t see him when he briefly came to Nazareth. I was busy running the caravanserai then with my husband and children. Not that I would have recognised the baby in the man. As it was I didn’t see my baby Jesus again until the day he died. But that is another story.

Innocence – A Christmas Story – part 2

But that wasn’t the only strange thing that happened in those few days. As is our custom Mary and Joseph went on the eighth day to Jerusalem to have Jesus circumcised, according to the law. After Mary’s purification they took him to the Temple to present him, before returning back to us. It is only a half day’s walk to Jerusalem from Bethlehem. I think they were going to stay just another two or thee days to make sure Jesus was still well enough to travel, then they were to return home. Then star appeared that night over the stable again. Father noticed it on his final round of the walls. By this time most people had set off to return to their own homes, so the caravanserai felt very empty. Mary and Joseph had remained in the stable as it was quieter for the baby. But the star reappearing had father worried that the shepherds would appear again, so he set an extra watchman on the walls that night. What trotted past our walls was not a whole lot of drunken shepherds, but some rich travellers on camels. Like the shepherds they seemed to know where they were going. Straight to see the baby in the stable under the star. This time I went with father and mother and a few of our men, well armed with knives. The sight that met our eyes was extraordinary. Outside our little stable were three exotic men obviously from the East, keeping watch over six camels. They pulled out great knives as we approached, and I thought that there was going to be a battle, but at a call from one of the men, Joseph came out with a richly dressed man, and thanked father and the men for coming again, but everything was alright. These men had seen the star in the east and had followed it here, to come and worship at the feet of a new powerful king. They had not expected to find a baby, but this baby was what they had come all this way to see. Father sent the men back to watch the caravanserai, and he, mother, I and my older brother entered and sat, at the request of the eastern travellers. At the feet of the baby lying in his cradle were ornate carved wooden boxes, open to show their contents, gold, more than I had seen before or since, frankincense and myrrh, which we saw a lot of being carried by passing traders, and fabulously expensive, here overflowing on to the floor.

And then in my innocence I asked those questions no adult can ask.
‘Why have these men come to see this baby? My baby brother looks better than he does, and he has one tooth.’
There was a silence in the stable, then the mother, Mary, spoke up.
‘Do you listen when you go to Synagogue to the readings from Torah and the Prophets? Well, if you do, you will know that every so often the prophets tell us that a Messiah is coming. The prophets are people who have come close to Yahweh. They didn’t know exactly what was going to happen, and neither do I. I do know that an angel called Gabriel came to me and asked me to be the mother of Yahweh’s son.’ (At this point all the adults took a deep breath in, apart from Mary’s husband who was nodding his head gently as she told her story) ‘I didn’t have much time to think about my answer.’ she continued ‘I was only betrothed to Joseph then, so I didn’t know how Yahweh would accomplish it. I thought about the shame I would bring to my parents, (Lots of adult nodding of heads here) about how much I would hurt Joseph (Here he held out his hand and caught hers in his large calloused one) and whether I would be stoned to death for adultery.’
‘What is adultery?’ I asked
But my mother shushed me. I opened my mouth to ask why they wouldn’t answer my question, but mother gave me one of her looks which promised a smack if I kept on about it, so I turned to listen to the story again.
‘I thought about what the angel said. Thought about how much I love Yahweh, so then I said ‘Yes’ to him. I would have Yahweh’s baby. I had heard, as you have heard, that the prophets tell us that the Messiah is going to be born in Bethlehem. The angel never said that we had to go to Bethlehem. Neither did Yahweh say that to Joseph when he met him in a dream when he assured him that I was carrying his baby and had not committed adultery.’
I opened my mouth again, but mother fixed her steely eye on me and I shut it. I would have to ask later when nobody was around.
Mary continued
‘I had no idea that this baby might be Yahweh’s promised Messiah, just his son. Then came the news of the census, and Joseph told me that we would have to go from Nazareth to Bethlehem. So I began to wonder. It is not a good thing to have to make a long journey when you are pregnant. You remember how big your mother was when she was expecting your baby brother? So I walked until my feet ached and my ankles swelled up, then I sat on the donkey until I couldn’t cope with being kicked by the baby and jogged by the donkey, so I would walk again. I walked and rode, and rode and walked for five days to get here. We didn’t think we would get here in time, as it was we only just made it to Bethlehem before it was dark. You remember that by the time we knocked on your father’s gate, it was very late indeed, and this was because we could find nowhere else in the whole of the town to stay. You have heard the story of the shepherds and the story of these wise men. The rest you know, because you have been here, you have seen with your own eyes.’
‘What is going to happen now?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know’ Mary replied. ‘Yahweh is only gradually revealing his plans to us all, as the days pass. I expect I shall find out soon enough what he wants next. I am slowly learning what it is that Yahweh wants from me. I am sure that it will take a lifetime to learn. I think it is time now for you to go to bed. I need to clean up baby Jesus, he has got rather smelly while we have been talking.’
‘You mean he has shit himself,’ I said ‘My brother does that as well’.
At which point my mother leapt up, grabbed my arm and began to pull me out of the stable all the time hissing at me in a loud whisper
‘You shouldn’t say things like that’
‘Why not?’ I said ‘It is true!’
‘Yes, but you don’t talk about it.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I said so’.
And as this was the final answer to any argument between us, I had to let it go. I would go back in the morning and talk to Mary. Maybe she would give me a straight answer. She had so far. But when I went back in the morning, Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus and the Kings, their camels and servants had all gone, slipped away in the night, leaving just a small pile of gold in payment, which I took to my father.

Innocence – A Christmas Story – part 1

I have often talked about it with my friends. For them also, that baby’s birth made a big impression on all of us. The birth itself would have left a mark on us, but the aftermath left a scar which has never really healed. Because of that baby I lost my brother, because of that baby, just about every family in the town, and we were all mostly closely related, we all lost a baby boy, and for why?

The story begins with a journey. It is not one that I had to make. I am an Inn Keepers daughter, so travellers came to me and my family’s caravansery. My parents knew that at that time we were going to be busy. They had seen the notices hammered up around the town. There was to be a census, and everyone was to be registered at the family town. Our Bethlehem was the family town of the great King David, so kin from around the country were going to descend on us. The town planned. The elders discussed. My mother and the other women got on with doing what needed to be done. Food, water and shelter for an unknown number of people and animals, for several days.

I might only have been six years old, but I had my jobs around the caravansery, and I got on with them as the place steadily filled up with more men, women children, horses, donkeys and camels than I had ever seen before. I don’t know why our outer stone walls did not bow out with everyone walking, talking, sleeping and cooking together inside, waiting for the appointed day and appointed hour of the census. As well as those coming for the census we had our regular guests, travelling from the south to Jerusalem, from the North down to Egypt, or west to the coast of the great sea. We tried to keep everyone happy, but even my father with all his store of tact and patience became rather short tempered.

So it was as night was falling, with the cock was letting us know, as if we didn’t know already, that it was time to damp down the fires and try to sleep, that there came a knock at the gate. Father charged past.
‘Not one more person can I fit in here, no matter what story they have to tell or how much money they offer me.’ he puffed.
He flung open the door, and before the man could say a thing he said
‘Sorry, there is no room at the Inn’.
Father bent and deftly fielded a small child who was trying to toddle out of the door, and handed him back to his mother. Just as the door was almost shut the man outside said desperately,
‘My wife is having a baby. We have tried everywhere else, there is no place for us to go. She can’t have the baby out here surrounded by the wild animals. We will never survive.’
Father opened to door a bit more and peered around. I peered around him, having come to see what was going on. There on the ground was a young woman with a very large bump, which she was rubbing, obviously in pain. Father took one look and yelled for mother. They had a quick conversation, then mother stepped outside the door to help lift the woman to her feet. She turned to me and told me to bring some hot water and rags to the stable cave, out in the field where we kept our own sheep and oxen, then she led the woman away crooning to her all the while,
‘It will be alright’.
The man followed silently, leading their donkey.

I didn’t see the baby actually being born. Mother kept sending me back for things she had forgotten. At last when I returned there was a blue faced naked baby bawling away. There was nothing wrong with his lungs. As I watched, mother expertly showed the new mother how to cut the cord, and then rub baby over with salt and oil, just as I had seen her do with my baby brother when he was born, then she wrapped him in the swaddling clothes that the woman, whose name I gathered was Mary, had brought with her. Mother held out the baby to Mary, and showed her how to latch him on to her breast. He started to suck hard, and Mary screwed up her face in pain. Mother laughed,
‘Don’t worry’ she said. ‘He needs to do that to bring down the milk. Your body will get used to it, and he will get more expert as well. It will become a pleasant experience for you both, but probably not tonight. What are you going to call him? Joseph after his father? No, Jesus? That is a nice name. Welcome to the world Jesus ben Joseph.’

Mother and I returned to the caravansery and I headed straight to bed. I was so tired. Mother headed to give my brother his last feed, before she too went off to sleep. Father had set a servant to patrol the walls, and another to keep an eye out for less than honest travellers packed in the courtyard who might want to take advantage of the large numbers of people staying that night.

I had not long been asleep when there was a shout from the watch on the wall. Looking out over the fields he shouted he could see a light, a big light, as if there was a fire somewhere up in the hills. When some of the men got up to join him on the wall, the light had gone. Father was just cursing him for a fool, when someone pointed to the sky where a huge star had appeared, and seemed to be hovering over the entrance to our stable cave in the fields.
One of the men on the wall cupped his hands to his ears and said
‘I can hear voices and shouting and running’.
Father shouted at everyone to be quiet, and the sounds came clearly to the men on the wall. We were just about to be attacked. Father rang the bell, men picked up their knives, father distributed spears, bows and arrows to the servants, women gathered their children to them and the animals got in the way. Torches were lit, and the men on the wall watched and waited. But the attack did not come, it passed us by. The feet, the shouting, and strangely the singing, passed us by. It seemed to be heading to our stable. There was a sigh of relief and people began to relax, then mother shouted up to father
‘What about Mary, Joseph and the Baby Jesus?’
Father pointed to several of the men who looked as if they would be good in a fight.
‘Come with me’, he roared.
He opened the gate and ran out, followed by the men carrying torches. Mother closed the gate behind him, and people started to drift up on to the walls to see whether they could see what was going on. But there was no sound of fighting coming to us over the clear night air. Eventually we could see a line of torches straggling back across the fields. Recognising father among them, mother threw open the gates into the courtyard.
‘What just happened,’ she asked.
‘It was a whole lot of drunken shepherds. They claimed they had seen a tear in the sky and angels singing, telling them that a baby who is to be the saviour of the world had been born in Bethlehem. A star would show them where. By the time we got there they were offering gifts of lambs to Mary and Joseph. What are they going to do with them – drive them all the way back to Nazareth? We hustled them out, although Mary and Joseph seemed more bemused than frightened by them. I told them not to come back again, but they were so happy to have seen the baby that they promised like lambs – like lambs- get it!’ Mother just looked stony faced at him. After all her worry of the last few hours it appeared that that was one joke too many.

Mary interviewed – part 3

The other visitors that really stuck in my memory, came a while after the census day, and after most people had left Bethlehem to return to their own towns. We were just waiting for Jesus to be a little older before we started back on what would be a journey of a week or so. With a small baby it was going to be difficult. Dusk was just turning to night, and I was outside the cave, sitting feeding Jesus and watching the stars appear one by one, when a camel hove into view, followed rapidly by several more. I covered myself up again, hoping that the camels and their riders wouldn’t take too long to pass, as Jesus was getting a bit impatient for his food, and was not being quiet about his disturbed meal. I put him over my shoulder, and made to move back into the cave when the rather exotic looking man on the first camel hailed me, and asked whether the baby was the son of the God Yahweh. I just looked at him in astonishment. At this point Joseph ran up, having seen the camels pass him by as he trudged back from the town, where he had been working for our food, by making some wooden items for one of the men in the town. He answered the traveller warily, asking why they had asked that question. At that, the man got down from his camel and motioned to his companions to do the same. Some servants travelling with pack animals, also got down and ran to take the camels away, but not until a large pack on the side of one of the animals had been opened, and three boxes removed.

The man came forward and bowed low before me. He introduced himself as Melchior, then he present me with a box, which he said contained Frankincense. I stood there absolutely astonished. Then the next man came and introduced himself as Caspar, and he held out a box, which when he opened it contained a larger quantity of gold than I have ever seen in my life. A third man then held out the third box, and from the smell, I could tell that it contained Myrrh. He told me his name was Balthazar. So there we were, standing like statues, with these three men looking hopefully at me, and Jesus yelling louder and louder at the indignity of being separated from his food, when Joseph stepped in, and asked the men if they would like to sit and eat with us, while I went inside and fed Jesus and got him settled. Melchior turned and looked at a man standing nearby, who immediately gabbled away in another tongue. Melchior then turned back and in his very careful Aramaic, thanked us, and said that their servants would help prepare us some food. I took myself into the stable cave, leaving the problem of the boxes behind me.

When I came back out again with a clean and sleeping Jesus, it was fully dark, and before our shelter was a roaring fire around which everyone was now sitting. The boxes sat to one side under the watchful eye of one of the servants. I was motioned to sit on a chair covered in the most wonderful fabric, next to Melchior who sat on a rug on the ground. While we ate like kings on olives, fine bread, fruit and some lamb which must have been bought locally, the three men told us of their adventures. Melchior had travelled from Persia, where he was a scholar, a magus he said that he was called. Caspar told us that he was originally from a country called India, and that the gold was from there. He had travelled to Persia where he had met up with Melchior and Balthazar, who was from Babylon. The three of them were working and studying together, when they noticed in their charts that a great king was going to appear soon in Judea, so they had resolved to set off and see this great king. I asked them how they had found us. Balthazar just pointed over my head. I looked behind me to where the stable stood, and there hanging over the stable was the biggest star I had ever seen. I had thought that it was the moon lighting our gathering, but it was dwarfed by this large twinkling star. We have been following that star all the way from Persia he said simply.

As the night drew on Caspar told me that they had made a mistake on their journey, and left following the star to go to the palace of the King, Herod, where they thought that would find that the great king they were trying to find was one of his family. Joseph and I looked at each other horrified. We knew what Herod did even to members of his family, if he felt threatened by them. Caspar noticed our look and gravely said that he had had a dream the previous night warning him that they should not travel back to Herod with news of this new great king, but go back to their own country another way. Joseph and I should leave as soon as possible as well. We agreed. It was a really horrid end to what had been one of the most memorable nights of my life, for we spent most of the rest of the night packing up our few belongings and loading them onto our donkey. We snatched a couple of hours sleep, and then as soon as it was light enough for us to see, we left with the three magi and their servants, and headed south towards their home in Persia. Over the next few days as we travelled slowly, still talking, with them still trying to get their heads around the stories of Jesus conception and birth, we discussed where we should go. If Herod should come looking we should not stay together, so regretfully our roads parted and they continued on to Persia, while we turned west towards Egypt, carrying with us the three boxes, which enabled us, with Joseph’s skills as a carpenter, to live in Egypt until after Herod’s death when we were able to return safely to Nazareth again.

Mary Interviewed – part 1

There appears to have been a technical hitch, and part 1 of this story did not upload. Sorry. Here it is at last along with part 2 following. Part 3 still to come.

So you want me to talk about my son, you want me to talk about Jesus? I know that you have asked me many times before, and I have prevaricated. This time, it seems right that I should talk. But you want to write down words. Words can be slippery, you can say one thing, and another will be written down, the words can leap off the page and be taken away, and new meanings can be made from them. They can slide around the page changing order and obscuring the truth. Words are indeed difficult to pin down. I want to tell you the truth about my son. I want to tell you all about him, so I will tell you of his deeds, I will tell you of Yahweh’s deeds, and you can write down your words describing the deeds, and maybe, just maybe they will not slither and slide and decay with time, and my son will stand before all nations, for all times as a true and faithful witness to Yahweh, his Father.

The first deed has to be mine. One dark night when everyone else was asleep, I was lying wrapped up in my cloak across the floor of the room from my parents. I remember that it was a dark, dark night, and despite having worked hard all day preparing grain for bread, by doing the daily grind for my mother, bringing water from the well and preparing olives for preserving, I could not sleep. The night seemed somehow alive, as if I held out my hand, I could touch it. So I did. I held out my hands in front of me, and I made a motion like I do to part the hangings over our door, and a streak of light hit me in the face. I withdrew my hands and turned my face into my cloak, I counted to ten, and turned back round again, and the light was still there. I was absolutely petrified that I had done something wrong, but I had no idea what. As I watched, the small gap my hands had created grew and grew, until it was big enough for a man to step through.

What actually stepped through was an angel, bright and fierce, light and dark, calm and storm. I turned my face back into my cloak again, but the angel gently touched me, and gestured me to sit up, so I sat. The angel then told me that Yahweh had chosen me to be the mother of his son. All sorts of questions ran through my mind: Why me?, Why now?, How! The angel seemed to read my thoughts, and sat down beside me and spoke to me gently. It could have spoken to me for hours, or it could have been just minutes, I will never know. Its voice was melodic and musical. It was thunder and a running stream, it was human and divine. What I do know is that when the conversation finished the only thing I could do, my big gesture, was to bow my head and submit to Yahweh’s will. The really strange thing was that neither the light nor the angel woke my parents. This turned out to be a problem when I had to explain my pregnancy to them.

Joseph, the man I had recently become betrothed to, turned out to be a much more wonderful man than even I could have imagined. He had to leave the house when I first broke the news to him, but having thought and prayed about it over night, he came back and literally took me by the hand and led me from my parents house to the house he had built with his own hands, with help from a few friends. A house of solid mud brick walls, with a carpenters workshop attached, where he could earn us a living. Behind the house was courtyard around which several other houses were built, and in the middle was a communal oven where we could bake our bread. The betrothal contract had been signed, so Joseph decided there was no urgency to have the wedding. We would wait until the baby had been born.

I don’t know what urged me to leave Joseph then, and go to visit my cousin Elizabeth in the hill country nearer to Jerusalem. That was until the moment I stepped in the door of her house, and her hand went instinctively to the swell of her belly. I had not known that she too was pregnant. I didn’t realise that someone of her age could become pregnant, but as I knew, with Yahweh all things are possible. My visit was healing and uplifting. She was the only person I could ever talk to who knew, who understood just what my baby was. In the same way I watched her son John grow up, and set out to do Yahweh’s work, she watched mine, and just knew. When I received the news that Herod had had John executed, the words of the Magi came back to me regarding the gifts they gave to Jesus; Gold for a King, Frankincense for a Priest and Myrrh for a death. I wondered for the first time whether Jesus’ life may also need to be sacrificed for Yahweh. But I am digressing now.

Mary Interviewed – part 2

What was next in Yahweh’s big plan? That came in the form of a Roman soldier on a horse, with a piece of papyrus and a large hammer and nail. He arrived in the village, with an escort big enough to protect him, and threatening enough to make sure that we would would obey the summons. Each of us were to travel to our family towns to be registered for a census. We knew that meant tax. There was the beginnings of a riot, which the soldiers quelled more by look than deed. I am told in other villages the Romans had to break a few skulls to get people to calm down again. The Romans were not to be denied, no excuses would be accepted.

Joseph and I decided that we just had to trust that this was in Yahweh’s plan as well. So we walked, and rode, and rode and walked. I was tired, oh so tired by the time we reached Bethlehem, only to find that everyone else had reached there first. I was at the end of my strength, with ankles so swollen that every step was painful. I could have cursed Yahweh, but as gestures go, it would not have been a good plan. By now I was convinced that Yahweh did know what was going on, and everything that was happening to us was in his big plan, his big gesture for mankind. So I sunk down to the ground, my back to the city wall just inside the town gate of Bethlehem, and left Joseph to find somewhere for Yahweh’s baby to be born. From where I sat I could see him knock at door after door. Some opened for him, many did not. Some heads peeped out, and glanced down the street towards the gate where I sat, but they still shook their heads and closed their doors. At last Joseph disappeared around a corner. I closed my eyes as a wave of pain flooded over me, and I knew instinctively what it meant. Yahweh’s son was on his way. He was going to be born in the street, in a small insignificant town, in a small insignificant country surrounded by, well nothing and no one.

But I had underestimated Yahweh’s ability to plan, yet again, and Joseph reappeared trailing behind a very determined woman. From my glance at Joseph’s face I could see that she thought that he had lied to her about my state. Just as she arrived in front of me, another wave of pain swept over me and I groaned. All anger left the woman’s face, and she turned to Joseph and asked why he hadn’t said that the baby was actually coming, now. Joseph just shrugged. The woman crouched down beside me, and gently pushed my hair away from my face. ‘Come on child. As soon as this one is over, I will help you back out of the gate and round to our stables. It is the best I can do tonight. You will be warm and quiet, and I will come back with help as soon as I can. Come on, up we get now.’

So Yahweh’s son was not born in a street all alone. He was born in a cave, in the hillside just outside the town, which the Innkeeper had converted into a stable for his ploughing ox and a few sheep. Joseph and I added to the audience, our little grey donkey, who had so nobly carried me, when I grew too tired, as well as the food we had brought with us for the journey, and some swaddling clothes for the baby. The Innkeeper’s wife came with hot water and cloths to wash Jesus, and to clean Joseph’s sharp knife. Joseph held my hand, and I squeezed him so tight that at one point he yelped out in pain. Another woman in another place would have thought that it was a small price to pay for being saved the pain of the birth of their child. Jesus was not Joseph’s child, his had not been the act of conception, his was to be the joy and fear of raising him to adulthood. To him fell the joy of cutting the cord severing him from me and launching him out into Yahweh’s great world, to begin his great work for humankind.

And the people of the town came to see him, to see Jesus, drawn by the story of his birth, which had flown around the town. They came in ones and two’s, the old and the young, the poor and the rich, all of them curious to see this baby. Most of them were bored waiting for the day of the census; we were something to do. They did not know what it was they had come to see. Children came, one emulating the adults, who brought presents of food, brought a pretty stone he had found on the road, and polished up on his tunic. Roman soldiers came to check what was going on in a small cave in the hillside, which seemed to be drawing large numbers of people. They wanted to make sure we were not fomenting any trouble. The crying of a new born baby reassured them, and they too knelt beside him and worshipped this baby, not knowing or understanding who he was, and I did not enlighten them. To them he was just another Hebrew baby.

Among all the visitors we had in those days after Jesus birth, there were two groups that stick in my mind. Now that I come to think of it, those shepherds must have been the first visitors, because it was still dark when they arrived. We knew they were coming because they were shouting to each other, as they tried to find where exactly we were. We had no idea how they had come to know that Jesus had been born, because no one had left the cave. When they finally knocked on the door, and came in looking sheepish (I like that phrase, don’t you? A shepherd looking sheepish? No? Oh well) One or two were ringing their hands together in nervousness. They were silent for a long while as they took in the scene around them. The Innkeepers wife hands on hips just about to bite their heads off for making so much noise. Joseph moving protectively between them and me. Me looking rather hot, bothered and dishevelled, trying to cover myself up, as I had been trying to feed Jesus. Then the lead shepherd spoke in a whisper to ask whether this baby was Yahweh’s son. The Innkeepers wife opened her mouth again to put them in their place, but I just simply said ‘Yes’, and Joseph recognising that they must know who we were, moved aside to let them see Jesus properly. The whole lot of them, and I suppose that there must have been five or six of them, came and knelt at my feet, and just gazed at Jesus.

There was a long moment of silence, then Joseph asked them what they meant when they asked whether this was Yahweh’s son. They then told this fantastic story of how they had been sitting outside their cave, guarding the sheep resting inside. By the light of the fire they were talking, and singing together when suddenly it seemed as if the sky had been torn in two, and a great light shone out. From behind the light they could hear the most wonderful music that they had ever heard. It was angels singing a great song of praise to Yahweh. When the music stopped a voice like that of an angel seemed to travel down the light to them, telling them that a baby had been born in Bethlehem, who was Yahweh’s son. It said that we should go now and visit him, and then go and tell everyone in Bethlehem what they had seen and heard.

So here they were, following the angels instructions. Then the shepherd at the back of the group held out a lamb that he was carrying. He thrust it into Joseph’s arms, and just said ‘For the baby’. Then the whole lot of them turned and left the stable. As soon as they were all out, and the door shut behind them, we could hear them singing and shouting and praising Yahweh, as they presumably headed towards the town. We know that they followed the angels instructions, as many of our later visitors told us that they were awakened by them, and to put it mildly were not very happy to be woken by what they thought was a group of drunken shepherds – still they did come to see for themselves.

The Bethlehem Caravansary – part 3

Caravansary

 

As we were leaving the tent, I noticed the husband of Mary standing nearby, so I went up to him to enquire about his wife and child. His face just lit up, and he told us that Mary was doing well, and that it was a little boy they had called Jesus. We congratulated him, and would have moved on, but he stopped us with one hand, and started to apologise for the noise made by the shepherds. I had forgotten them. What was the bit about the angels, I asked him, as I remembered? He looked embarrassed and said that they told them that they had been in their fields minding their sheep, when the heavens seemed to open and a choir of angels sang ‘Glory to God in the highest, and, Peace to his people on earth.’ Then the angels told them that a baby had been born in Bethlehem, who was God’s son. So they had left their sheep, to come and find him. They had been so overjoyed that they had wanted to tell everyone there and then. I remembered that bit. I also vaguely remembered the bright light. I didn’t want to be rude to this man, but I couldn’t really believe that the son of God had been born in Bethlehem in my stable.

I was so busy for the next two or three days, as the majority of our visitors set off back home, with supplies of bread and water to keep them going. I didn’t have time to go and check up on Mary, Joseph and Jesus. When I did, I was smitten with the lovely woman and her adorable baby. All babies are cute, but there was something about this one. I still wasn’t sure about the son of God bit, until a few weeks later, when a group of travellers from Arabia knocked on our door asking for a room and stabling for their camels. They then asked me whether I knew of a baby having been born in the town a few weeks ago. Something made me ask them why. They told me that they had been on the road for many months, following a star, to find a baby who would be king. I knew then that they were talking about Mary and Jesus, still in our stable, just waiting for them both to be strong enough to manage the week long walk back home to Nazareth. I sent the travellers on their way to the stable, their arms loaded with gifts of Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh. When they came back they told us that they had laid their gifts before the baby, Jesus, and had spent a long time talking with Mary and Joseph. Early the next morning Mary and Joseph stopped by the caravansary as they were on their way. They thanked us, and left us some of the gold, as payment for their stay.

All these things happened when Quirinius was governor of Syria, and had just been put in charge of the new Roman Province of Judea. He could not have known the many bitter things that would come out of, what was for the Romans, a regular event. The first bitter thing was for us in Bethlehem. Herod sent soldiers to find the baby born to be king, having learnt about him from the Arabians. Many of the townspeople who had heard the shepherds and seen the exotic travellers told the soldiers that the family had left to go home, and were no longer in Bethlehem, but the soldiers chose not to believe them, and took revenge by killing all the baby boys in the town aged under two years. It has scarred the people, and the town, and left us all with a hatred of Herod. The second thing was that one Judas of Gamala became zealous to draw the people to revolt because of the census, among other things. Some of our young men who has shouted against the census, and seen their siblings killed, did join his zealot movement which started a series of violent wars which brought much destruction on our people.

I don’t know what to think about Jesus of Nazareth. When he was born the angels sang for joy, and I believe what the shepherds told us about the angels, many times over the years, even though they are not usually the most reliable of witnesses. There was something about them that had changed, through what they had seen. Bethlehem’s Rabbi’s had told us over the years, that the Messiah would come to save his people, but the first thing that happened to us was that a lot of our sons were killed instead of him. That is not saving us. It was only a little over three years ago that we began to hear stories of the Rabbi, Jesus of Nazareth, how he was preaching about the kingdom of God, performing miracles and healing the sick. The more stories I heard, the more I began to believe that this was the same Jesus I had seen born here in Bethlehem, all those years ago. Jesus is not such a common name. Then I heard of his triumphal entry in to Jerusalem, the king being welcomed to his capital city, and there it was, the promise to save our people. I waited with bated breath to see what would happen next. But this was followed by the dreadful news that he had been arrested and crucified. How could this happen to a man sent by God? What had gone wrong with God’s plan? Were we ever going to be saved? Then there was the news that he had been seen again, alive, or resurrected, and I really didn’t know what to make of that. The final piece of news that came flying to Bethlehem, along with the merchants, was that this Jesus had ascended into heaven, and that something had happened to his followers, who were now preaching the good news of Jesus all over the country. I look forward to one of them coming here to Bethlehem, so that I can find out what all this means, and whether God’s chosen people are going to be saved as he has promised, and to tell them about his birth in my stable here in Bethlehem.

The Bethlehem Caravansary – part 2

Caravansary

So our plan was, that the town potter was going to make a number of large pots which we could take to the census area and keep filled with water for the people waiting there, and could be placed in strategic places around the town. Replacements would be brought from the village wells as they became empty. Several of the men volunteered the use of their donkeys to carry the vessels to and from the well. Groups of women who regularly used the various wells around the town agreed to organise the raising of the water. Some would have their younger sons and daughters to help, others would have help from the soldiers. From now on every woman grinding flour for her daily bread, would grind double, and set aside half to be used when the visitors came. Of course everyone grumbled about that. It takes at least an hour to grind enough flour for a family meal, so having to do double each day would be a real chore for everyone. We also asked some of the merchants who regularly brought goods to the town to supply us with wood for the communal bread ovens, which we thought would probably be going most of the day and if we used only local supplies would drastically reduce what we had available afterwards. We would need some flour from the big mills in Jerusalem, again so as not to leave the town with nothing to live on until the next crop. We also got some barrels of salt fish to store, as we were not near to a supply of fresh fish, and we asked some of the shepherds roaming the area to supply some sheep and lambs for the wealthy who could afford them. All these things the town would have to pay for, and charge the people coming to the town. It went against our laws of hospitality, but there was nothing in Torah about Roman censuses!

We had no idea how many people would be coming to town, and even a rough guess made us all go white. Apart from feeding everyone, where were they all going to sleep? Many of the townspeople had kinsmen, that they knew would be coming, who would of course sleep with them on the floor of the house, with the rest of the family, or on the roof, if the weather was good. We would take as many as we could in the caravansary, but we might well have to find other spaces in the town where people could sleep in safety. Someone jokingly laughed that we could always send people to the shepherds caves in the hills, if we ran out of space in the town.

So there I was on the day before the census, the caravansary was full to overflowing, I was ready to scream when there was yet another knock on the door. My husband, who was as near to breaking point as I, flung the door open, and firmly told the couple outside that we had no room. I was standing just behind him. Something made me look at the woman’s face, and I noticed a look of pain come over it. She must have squeezed her husband’s hand tighter as he turned to look down at her with such a look of concern on his face. I lowered my eyes from her face down her body, and realised with a shock that she was heavily pregnant, in which case, it looked as if the baby could be coming – now! I pushed past my husband and rushed to put an arm around her, as she dropped her arms to her rounded belly to rub where the pain was at its worse, and squatted down to ease the pain. As the contraction worked its way through her, I thought rapidly. The only, and I mean the only, place we had not yet put anyone was our own stables which were just inside the town gate. When the woman stood up again, I started to lead the couple towards the town, but the man stopped me and said that there was no use going into the town. He had knocked on every door he could find, and there was nowhere they could stay. He had only come to the caravansary, because he hoped that we would take pity on them, as he couldn’t afford our fees, but neither could his wife give birth at the side of the road. As I urged them forwards again, I told him of my plan to take them to our stables. It was warm and sheltered, and the straw and hay would make a good bed. I would go and get one of our servants to bring a bucket of hot water and go myself and rouse the midwife to come and give a hand. As soon as I had left the midwife with the woman, whose name I had discovered was Mary, I rushed back to the caravansary to help my husband again.

I was just lying down to sleep the sleep of the completely exhausted, when a really bright light appeared over a field nearby. I looked out over the parapet of of the roof I had nearly got to sleep on, but it seemed to have disappeared so I lay down again and instantly fell deeply asleep. I was so exhausted that I thought I had dreamed the light. I didn’t dream the noisy drunken shepherds who came shouting and chattering and singing that they had seen angels and a baby. I knew about the baby, and was glad to hear it had been born safely. I didn’t believe the angels bit. I slumped back onto my cloak as I heard the watchmen tell the shepherds to go away.

The next time I woke, there was bright sunlight streaming across the roof, and it was the day of the census. Leaving the caravansary in the hands of the servants, my husband and I walked to the census tent to register with the Romans. The Elders had already made up lists of those that they thought should be registering in the town, and luckily my husband’s name, as the head of our household was called early. The Censitores were sat in chairs, asking the questions, and having the scribes, the Censuales who were with them write down the answers. We were able to hear what other people were being asked so we had our answers sort of ready:

‘What is your name and the name of your father?‘

‘How old are you?‘

‘Do you have a wife and children? What are their names?‘

‘What kind of property do you own? What is its value?‘

‘How much land do you own and how many crops does it produce? What is the value of them?‘

‘How many slaves do you have? And how many servants?‘

‘What do you think is your worth?‘

All of this my husband had to answer, and then swear that the information he had given was correct. We were told that all this information would be taken to Rome and collated there. When the census was complete, a copy would be kept in the Temple of the Nymphs, in Rome for use by the Emperor.

Caravansary

The Bethlehem Caravansary – part 1

Caravansary

I remember that day so well. How could I forget it? It happened here, in this small town of Bethlehem in Judea, in buildings owned by myself and my husband, keepers of the Bethlehem Caravansary. The caravansary was built by my husband’s family many generations ago, and strictly speaking is not actually in Bethlehem. It sits near the road leading from Egypt in the south to Jerusalem a good day’s journey to the north of us. It is not the busiest of roads. The busiest would be the coast road sweeping along the edge of the Mediterranean sea, but for merchants wanting to get to Jerusalem it can be the most direct. Over the generations, when business has been good, my husband’s family have built stone walls around a cobbled yard, to replace an earlier wooden wall. Against one wall inside they have built stone stables, with rooms above, accessed by an external stone staircase to a balcony off which open the doors of the rooms. There are external stairs to the roof, which has a low parapet, where during the really hot nights the wealthy can sleep out under the starry sky or shaded by a canvas covering, suspended from poles. Wealthy merchants travelling with many beasts and servants can leave teir animals in the stables along with their grooms, and have their servants wait on them as they sit relaxing on the balcony. Mind you we charge them a fair rate for that privilege.

If you are not so wealthy you can rent a wooden stable, against one of the other walls, and sleep with your donkey or ass. If you walk to our gates, you can pick a spot in the middle of the courtyard and light a fire, cook a meal and curl up on the cobbles, knowing that you are safe from brigands and wild beasts. Our men patrol the walls, and keep an eye on the fires, and make sure that no robbery takes place within the walls!

Now on this day that I remember so well, I had got to the point of telling my husband that if one more traveller came knocking on the door asking for room for himself, his family and his beasts of burden, I was going to scream. We had got more people within the walls than we had ever had before. Regular clients were complaining because we had asked them to double or triple up in their rooms, and we had had to reduce our prices accordingly. Not only did we have the usual merchants travelling north and south from Jerusalem and Egypt, but what seemed like the entire population of the country within our walls, although in reality it was only members of our own tribe, of the house and lineage of King David. And why? All because the Roman Emperor wanted to take a census.

It was only a few weeks ago that a troupe of Roman soldiers had clattered their way into town and nailed up notifications around the town, of a census to be taken. That would have been bad enough, but the Roman Centurion in charge called the Elders of the town to a meeting, and set out what was going to happen. They came away from that meeting ashen faced and worried. For a day or two afterwards rumours spread around the town like wildfire until eventually the Rabbi and the Elders, who sit at the gates of the town, became so worried at the outrageous things that were being said, and the rising tempers of the young men who wanted to go and fight the Roman soldiers, that they summoned the whole town to the market place where they told us all what the Centurion had told them.

What we were told was that a census had been called across the Roman Empire. It happened regularly, and was not just to impose new taxes on us. Now that we were part of the Roman Empire, we were going to have to get used to these censuses taking place regularly. There were lots of growls at that point, but the Rabbi, who was speaking, let them ride. Everyone had already been outside the town and seen that the Roman soldiers were building themselves a marching camp just outside the town walls. They were digging themselves a ditch and throwing up an earthen rampart around themselves for a protection. Tents were being raised for them to sleep in, and a big tent was being raised just outside the marching camp. We knew from the notice that had been hammered up all over the town that when a Roman census was taken, each tribe was expected to gather at the central village or town of their tribal lands. For the tribe of Benjamin and the house of the great King David, Bethlehem was the designated tribal meeting place. All the members of the house of David would gather here on the designated day to be counted. That would be thousands of people. That silenced everyone. The whole town was asked to nominate people to work with the Elders to get the town ready. My husband and I were asked, because of our expertise in running the caravansary.

One of the first things we and the Elders did was to talk again to the centurion, to see how much help he could give us. He welcomed us to his tent, and gave us watered wine to drink while we discussed the issues we had. He made it very clear that his primary role was military, so he would guard the roads, protect the large number of people travelling, stop any rebellions happening and check on the safety of villages in his assigned area where limited numbers of people were left behind to look after the animals and those unable to travel. His men had set up the tent where the census takers would sit to record the answers to the census questions, and the soldiers would keep order among those waiting. After some persuading he allowed us a few soldiers to help keep water supplies running, as a lot was going to be needed for everyone waiting for hours in the sun. We couldn’t raise too much water from the town wells in advance as it would go off in the heat, so we would needs lots of strong arms to keep raising water through the days.

We left knowing that we were going to have to provide more food for more people than we had ever done so before. We thought that most people would bring some food with them like, fruits, olives, olive oil. A large number of the people we thought would be within a day or two’s walk from Bethlehem, but there would still be substantial numbers who came from the farthest reaches of the country and beyond. We reckoned that people would start off with their own bread, which would last them two maybe three days before even dipping it in oil would not make it bearable to eat. Many would want to buy or barter for bread while they were here so that as well as what they ate here, they would have some to take for the start of their journey home again. Those who had brought their own flour would need to be able to cook their loaves in our communal ovens, and we would have to have people ready to direct people around the town to where the ovens were cooking so that they could buy bread, or cook in a free corner of the oven.

House

Two weddings and some funerals – part 4

Jewish Wedding

I listened to this story in astonished silence. Maybe there was another woman who had had to travel to Bethlehem while pregnant. So I asked the shepherd what the names of the people were. ‘Mary and Joseph’ he said. And the baby had been named Jesus. I felt relief flood over me. I had been so worried when after a few weeks Mary and Joseph did not return to Nazareth. It should only have taken them a week or so to get to Bethlehem, and unless something had gone wrong with her baby’s birth, she should have been able to start to travel back within a few days. I feared the worse, the more time passed, and I began to expect just Joseph on his own, but he did not return either. Then we had begun to hear tales that King Herod had caused all the babies in Bethlehem to be killed, and I thought then that Mary and Joseph must have been killed along with their baby. I imagined the funerals for Mary and Joseph and all those poor children and I wept for them, until Nathan took me in hand and told me that for Jonathan’s sake, I must end my mourning. The shepherd’s story told me that at least the baby, Jesus, had been born safely and all had been well when he had seen them, but I still did not know what had happened to them since then. One day, about 6 months after I had heard the shepherd’s story, Aunt Ann took me aside and told me that a merchant had brought a message from Mary and Joseph. They had escaped the massacre, and had fled south. The would return when it was safe to do so.

I was delighted the day I saw Mary and Joseph walking down the street leading a donkey hung with all the belongings they had brought back with them from their exile in Egypt; with Jesus perched on top. Over the next few months and years Mary told me bit by bit about Jesus birth, how they had been visited by shepherds and village folk, and wise men from far countries. I would not have believed her had she not unwrapped a jar of myrrh and a box of frankincense, which she said had been given to Jesus as a present. The gold they had also been given they had had to use to make their escape, and to live on until Joseph was able to set up a workshop in the Jewish area of Alexandria, and earn money for them to live on. They had returned to Nazareth when they had heard stories from passing merchants of the death of Herod and of his extravagant funeral with the 2000 soldiers of his bodyguard processing with his body through the streets of Jerusalem on the way to his place of burial, watched by sullen citizens of the city.

One day I ventured to ask her about Jesus conception. She looked at me for a very long time, and then swore me to secrecy. She told me that an angel had come to her in the night, and told her that she had been chosen to carry God’s son. She had just said ‘yes’. She didn’t think that she could really say ‘no’ to God. When I asked her what Joseph thought about that, she said that he had been minded to give her a ‘get’, a bill of divorce, and walk away from their betrothal. However he had received a dream from God, assuring him that I had told him the truth, and that he should wake up, marry me, and look after me and God’s son as if he were his own, and that is just what he has done.

I don’t know to this day whether I quite believe her. God has not spoken to our people in many generations now. The last of the prophets was heard and listened to long before the Romans came. Many in our land long for a new prophet to lead our people out of our slavery to the Romans. Could that prophet be Jesus? Could the boy who gets muddy and into scrapes with my son, whom I chastise and love as I love my own son, really be the saviour of our people as Mary says he is, as the shepherds told me he is, all those years ago?