With all of us realizing it is by the grace of God we have made it to the end of 2020, it might be good to remind ourselves of the issues Mary and Joseph dealt with as God prepared to have His Son born by her in Bethlehem. How delightfully He shocked those shepherds as the angel and then, the angels dazzled them with their brightness and their power, but most of all with their message—the long-awaited Savior, their Messiah, had been born in Bethlehem. What a colossal announcement! We have all heard this miraculous story so many times, and yet we too many times take it for granted. We need to be reminded that we are talking about the Incarnation, Emmanuel, Himself, coming to live among His people to show them and tell them and prove to them how much He loves them. So, here is a poem and Mary’s story to hopefully refresh us with the incredible love, the abiding joy and the miraculous peace we so desperately need this particular year.

Mary’s Song

Angel songs for joy arise
even as stars fill the skies
while mountains stretch toward
all of Heaven’s silvery
clouds while whispering winds
hum along gladsome bound,
for born this wondrous, holy
night in David’s City,
in an earthy, fragrant stable
is God, a peasant maiden’s
baby—and here I in awe
lie impassioned by His glory.

M.S.
Christmas 2020

But Mary treasured up all these things,
pondering them in her heart.

Luke 2: 19

Mary’s Story

Let me make this clear from the very beginning, as a growing girl, and even as a young maiden, I was nothing special. Oh, I never did anything really bad. I argued with my sisters, I whispered secrets to my friends, I found ways around the demands of my parents. Still, I properly filled my role as a daughter in a peasant Jewish family, sitting with my mother and my sisters in the synagogue on the Sabbath.

In our family we all worked hard. We had animals to feed. We had clothes to wash. We had younger ones to watch. We had mending to do. We had floors to clean. Yet we also had our bits of fun to lighten our load. All of us girls had all kinds of games to play together. Sometimes even as we ran errands for our mother, we raced to the market and back, each of us choosing our own path, running as fast as we could, trying to be the first one home. We were always hiding things from each other, sometimes a doll or maybe a favorite cloth we loved to tie as a head covering when we went out in the village. So, our mother had to break up many a tussle among us. We were just a normal group of sisters, laughing and giggling and shouting and fighting—but through it all, loving each other.

From as long as I could remember our parents had taught us the ways of our people, the children of Israel, descendants of Father Abraham, longing for the coming of our Messiah, heir to King David’s throne—and they often reminded us that we, ourselves had the great king’s heritage as a part of our bloodline. This often came in the midst of scolding for some mischievous fun that had gotten us into trouble—“. . . and to think, you girls, every one of you, descendants of the great King David; and what would he think of you right now . . . ?” That would be my mother scolding us and shaking her finger at us as we tried to look sufficiently sorry to her face; while, to be honest, we were thinking in our hearts just how funny she looked, all red-faced and stretching as tall as she could, though the older ones among us had long since grown way past her.

As I was beginning to grow old enough to get beyond a bit of my mischievous nature, I occasionally was allowed to walk outside our village among the hills and in the pastures where cattle and sheep grazed by day. Sometimes a girl or perhaps two, my age; would walk with me and we would tell tales, talk of our dreams for the future and gather wild flowers to take back home—all the while enjoying the birds singing, the butterflies dancing among the pretty flowers and the clouds lazily passing by over our heads. I loved those times with my friend out on the hills.

But some days I just wanted to be alone with my own thoughts, my prayers and my songs—and my feelings of wonder when I considered this world our God had created, while I dealt with my excitement about how He might lead me in the coming years—being discovered and requested and claimed by a man for marriage, establishing a proper, a love-filled home, welcoming children, yet even so; continuing to explore how I might as a daughter of the Covenant, somehow give honor to our great God.

On one of those solitary days, a particularly lovely day I must say, God sent one of His angels to remind me of my own lowliness, and yet to also lift up the eyes of my heart to see how His great love dared to come down right here in my quiet space on the hillside outside Nazareth to call me into the midst of His glorious plan to redeem for Himself a chosen people transformed to become His hands in Kingdom building.

Oh, the appearance of His angel, Gabriel, overwhelmed me. For me it was like seeing the sun for the very first time. He shone with such blinding light, with such a sense of glory, but also there was a comforting, a nurturing warmth, an encouraging and uplifting presence. It was like the warmest of embraces by my dear mother or my father.

Yet I was startled when he addressed me as if I were someone worthy of being greeted by God’s angel. Obviously, he knew how startled I was and immediately put me at ease. But still, when He continued on to say God had bestowed His favor on me—well, girls my age never expect to hear such assurance. But somehow, in spite of all the magnificence of the angel’s abiding glory, he also communicated an absolute sincerity that settled my doubts.

Even so, the message he brought to me absolutely turned my life upside-down. So by the miraculous blessing of God, I, as ordinary a girl as you can find in Nazareth, had been chosen to bear Israel’s Messiah; though I had never known the embrace of a man, certainly not my betrothed, gentle, honorable Joseph. How could this be? Again the angel gave me assurance—and I can tell you this; when an angel speaks extraordinary promises, you do, somehow, believe. Even what seems to be impossible suddenly becomes believable. How beautifully He declared the destiny of God’s Son to be delivered, incredibly, by me. This Son would be David’s promised heir; He would be the Savior for His people; He would establish God’s Kingdom that would never end. And then the angel astounded me again as he told me, dear cousin Elizabeth in her old age, was expecting a child, though everyone knew she was barren. In my heart I realized this was a sure sign that God was moving in a miraculous way. And so, my faith was born. Naturally, I responded in humility; “Of course I am His servant, let Him work His perfect will in me.”

Those next weeks and moths were, to put it mildly, tumultuous, but also glorious. My visit to Elizabeth and Zechariah strengthened my own confidence. Her own miraculous baby in the womb jumped when I hurried to greet her, for he recognized the Messiah growing within me. How it filled me with joy to have this divine confirmation, and I sang God’s praise.

Then Joseph had his dream, and manfully took me as his wife into his home to shelter me from the suspicions, the gossip and misunderstanding in our town, with too many people never imagining what God was doing. But Joseph believed God’s message to him delivered by an angel in a dream. He stood beside me strong and steady. I know now, God had given me Joseph as a strong rock to stand upon, even though my family and my friends still struggled to believe the unbelievable.

Then there came the long and exhausting journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem for the registration the Romans had commanded. We knew that my time was near, and so Joseph did his best to keep me as comfortable as possible, borrowing a donkey from one of the families he had built and repaired plows for through the years. There was no way I could have walked those hilly roads, or through the streams. By the time we reached Bethlehem, even though this was to be my first child, I knew it was time. Joseph did his best to find a place, but the town was crowded with folks like us, coming back to Bethlehem to register for taxes. Finally, one kind family offered us a clean and quiet place in the stable out behind their house.

And then He came. Through my time of travail Jesus was born, just as Gabriel had promised me a few short months ago. I lay on the hay with Him, exhausted, yet filled with joy and wonder, still just beginning to imagine what God must have planned for Him. And as he suckled at my breast, I wept tears of joy while I considered how this helpless child had been born to bless my world.

Then the shepherds came. Joseph and I heard them as they approached. We could hear the excitement in their voices. Joseph met them outside; and he insisted they must quieten down. I overhead them all talking at once until Joseph somehow got them to choose one spokesman. Even the shepherd they chose could not keep his voice soft as he spoke of an angel, then a multitude of angels appearing overhead, as the shepherds were watching their sheep in the fields outside Bethlehem. Inside the small stable I heard him clearly.

“We were doing the night watch out in the fields. Suddenly a blinding light appeared—it turned out to be an angel. We were scared out of our skins. We fell down on our faces. But the angel said, ‘Fear not!’ Man, that was some command, and we had to obey. When he spoke I felt it deep in my heart, like his one voice was the whole Temple choir singing.

“The angel went on to say, ‘I have good news for you. Today in your own town, Bethlehem a Savior is born; He is Christ the Lord’.

“Even we shepherds knew the prophecies that our Messiah, our peoples’ deliverer would be born in Bethlehem. We knew this must be it, the fulfillment of that prophecy. He told us to come here and find this baby in swaddling cloths, lying in a manger.”

“Wait! Don’t forget the others. It seemed like the stars had surrounded the angel, and they were shouting their praise to God—but their shouting somehow sounded more musical than any choir I ever heard, even in the Temple;” interrupted one of the younger shepherds.

“Oh, you’re right, and they also proclaimed God’s peace over the earth. I will never forget how my ears rang with their praises and their promises.”

“Hey! Simon! I never thought I would hear you getting all poetic.”

“Knock it off, Michael, you’re the one named for an angel.”

“Yeah, but he’s a warrior, not a poet.”

Joseph could tell the shepherds were about to get into an argument, maybe even a fight, so he demanded; “But what do you want from us? It’s late and my wife is tired.You should just go away and leave us alone.”

“No!” exclaimed every shepherds.

Simon glared at his fellow shepherds and humbly begged; “We’re sorry. We’re just so excited about the angels and their message. And we’re here because the angel told us to come and see the baby Savior. Please, can we see him, please?”

Joseph was reluctant, but I could feel God’s purpose in this, so I called to him from within; “Husband, I believe them. They are sent here by God.”

Joseph agreed reluctantly, “So, if I allow you inside, you must promise to be quiet; don’t frighten the child, or you’ll have to leave immediately.”

The shepherds first shouted, then caught themselves and fervently whispered their “yeses.”

Joseph led them inside the stable. They were obviously awe-struck, when their eyes grew wide in wonder as they focused on the baby in the manger. One-by-one they knelt in worship. I was amazed as these rough and world-hardened men reflected in their eyes a joy I had never seen before—as tears streamed down their sun-bronzed and bearded faces.

In fact none of them said a word until one among them prayed. “Oh, mighty God. We are not worthy. We are just shepherds. But you sent Your angels with the Good News, how this child before us is born to be our Savior. You have allowed us to see Him. We thank You and we praise You.”

The others raised together their heartfelt “Amen.”

As they did, I realized my tears were also flowing for joy deepened in my heart, as I realized the purpose of God in choosing lowly shepherds to worship His son born on earth. It was perfect, and then I noticed, they were going, escorted out by Joseph, who returned; and as I looked, I saw the stain of tears streaked across his face. It was a holy moment on the holiest of nights. And I was blessed.

Then together we smiled when we heard those earthy, those very common shepherds burst forth with praise as they began to announce what God had done, how He had sent His son to be our Savior. “Praise God! We have seen the baby! The baby announced by an angel! The Savior of the world! Angels declared to us God’s glory! Promised peace on earth! . . .”

And so it went; all of it the very truth. Yet I had to wonder, how many would believe? But no matter, He who worked this mighty miracle sleeping here beside me; He can raise up those believers who will serve His Kingdom.