The spiteful journey is one they didn't choose to take.
90 miles over mountains and deserts.
Suffocating heat by day,
Biting cold by night,
Danger lurking everywhere,
Despised and friendless because of a scandal that they did not own.
The Empire, of course, showed no compassion.
"Caeser has willed it. Your child is no concern of ours. Now go."
But when family were remorseless too,
The wounds cut deeper.
"Pregnant? Before your marriage?
Pregnant? And you're staying with her?
Be gone to Bethlehem and hope that strangers will welcome you,
Because we will not."
So here they are.
Joseph and Mary, all alone with her blessing. Her burden.
Bleeding hands and feet,
Dust in her eyes and mouth,
Parched throat, throbbing head,
She feels faint.
The pain in her is matched by the anxiety in him.
For here is Bethlehem at last,
But will she make it?
He knows that she is close. He has no experience of this but he can see there is little time.
A diligent and responsible man, he has made arrangements.
He knows where to take her. He hopes they will be welcome here.
But the words that greet him are a dagger to his heart.
He pleads and begs in the doorway.
Do not turn us away! Please look at her! It will be a death sentence!
The expressionless man has kept his distance but now, cautiously, he steps forward and whispers.
"Get your filthy hussy away from my door.
I won't have your bastard born in my house.
Have it in the street with the other animals."
And in desperation even these cruel words give him hope.
"Do you have a place for them sir?"
What? What did the stupid cuckold say?
"I asked if you had a place for them. For the animals.
We will have him with them if we must."
He stares.
Then he laughs.
Friends and neighbours have gathered around,
And he sees the chance to win their esteem by humiliating the outcasts.
"You want to have your baby in the shit and the piss and the hay?"
"Yes sir."
"Ha! Then go. The cave is round the back. And don't disturb me if it doesn't survive the night!"
Amidst the scoffs and jeers, he has to support her now.
Whether from shame or discomfort he doesn't know, but she can no longer walk.
He helps her into the dark hole.
He beats away the animals with his stick.
He will kill for her now if he has to.
She falls onto the rocks and the muck and she screams.
There is blood and water.
He cries for help
But of course no-one comes.
He panics.
His wife and his child will die here, despised and rejected, miles from home.
No! That will not be!
If there is no-one else to love this woman and this baby
Then he will.
Today and always.
He helps her onto all fours.
His heart breaks some more when the stones cut her hands and feet again,
But there is no time.
A desperate moan,
And he is here!
Slowly at first, then he is out.
With a knife he cuts the cord and looks urgently around.
It will have to be the feeding trough.
He dumps the child
Then returns to her.
She is pale as death.
He rips his clothes to stem the bleeding and holds her.
Holds her.
Slowly, her gasps become breaths
And her moans become sighs.
The ordeal is over.
But very soon, fear stalks him again.
It has pursued him more relentlessly than beast or bandit on this journey
And it will not release its grip now.
For night is falling
And muck and straw will not protect them from the vindictive cold of a Bethlehem night.
The baby cries.
She must feed it soon
But she is weak, ill and tired.
Child that she is, she won't make it through the night herself
Let alone the babe.
He remembers the angel's promises
And he sobs
Then laughs, bitterly and resentfully.
Save his people?
Ha!
He won't survive the night and nor will his mother!
Nothing but scorn and hatred since you gave us this burden!
Shame and scandal for this?
Liar!
Where are you now? Where is our help now!!?
"Excuse me sir?"
A shadow at the mouth of the cave and the first kind voice he's heard in months
Jolt him from his desperate lament.
"Who are you?" he asks, reaching for his club.
"Shepherds, sir. From the hills nearby."
There are four or five of them. Strong men with rough voices but gentle expressions.
They have food. Water. Fleeces and blankets.
He looks them in the eye, each one in turn.
If they are here to steal or kill then he is helpless
But somehow he knows that this is not their purpose.
He asks them the only thing he can.
"Will you help us?"
A smile and a nod bring different tears to his eyes.
"Don't you worry about anything sir. We've survived more than a few nights out on these hills. We'll see her right. The infant too."
And in that dank, desperate cave, there is suddenly hope.
"Just one thing, sir, before we do."
Anything.
"Can we see the babe?"
And as they gather round,
Joseph and Mary realise that they haven't looked at him yet either.
They look down into the trough.
And the baby who will shape history
Reveals himself first to
Four rough shepherds,
A simple tradesman
And a rejected teenage mother.
There were many in Bethlehem that night.
And, at Christmas time, many have travelled there since.
For those who are
Prosperous;
Safe;
Comfortable;
Respectable;
Admired.
There is nothing for you to see here. Not in this filthy cave! Your Christmas is elsewhere. There are much nicer places than this. You might even find a five star stable with central heating, or a kneeling donkey.
But for those who are
Scorned;
Rejected;
Consumed by guilt;
Despised;
Diseased;
Destitute.
For you?
Welcome to the cave. He wants to meet you.
Happy Christmas
