Christmastime usually provides a large punctuation mark for any calendar year. Whether we take the time to reminisce over the year that was, or celebrate what is to come, we generally go about Christmas as a time of wonder and introspection. The Christmas season of 2020 A.D. is no different, although the punctuation mark for many looks like some indecipherable wingdings shouted by Q*bert, which doesn’t bring us the joy or hope it traditionally does.
Covid-19 has brought a host of problems with it for our society that, at this juncture, seem too numerous to count. Isolation and loneliness, from quarantine to being cautious, were always on the doorstep, but I’m sure many, like myself, hoped for resolution by now. Sadly, that is not the case. I have absolutely no intention of opining about the politics or efficacy of shutdowns, lockdowns, or touchdowns when it comes to policy in a pandemic. Instead, I want to focus on some of the stories around the birth of Christ that, while possibly overlooked in past years, can perhaps offer some points of meditation in our time of despair. These stories are told in every nativity scene we place in our houses, yards, or other spaces, and often hide in plain sight as we go about our usual revelry.
The Gospels of Matthew and Luke both contain narratives of the birth of Christ, although they focus on different subjects for different reasons. They combine to make a story most are familiar with, and it offers a glimpse into the very humble beginnings of Jesus’s life. We celebrate his birth every year with traditions surrounded by family and friends, gatherings aplenty, and all sorts of festivities. But, what of the story of the very first Christmas? Did it occur with fanfare and celebrations that brought the world together? Quite the contrary, in the very physical, temporal sense, but that’s not to say that there is anything wrong with our traditional, social merrymaking.
At the very beginning of the nativity narrative, we need to look at why Joseph and Mary travelled to Bethlehem from their home in Nazareth. As the story goes, Augustus Caesar had issued a decree for a census to be taken. The method for doing so for our relevant region, at least for the purposes of the Christmas story, was to return to one’s ancestral home to be counted. There are of course different historical arguments to be made about the accuracy of this account, between Quirinius’s time as governor of Syria to Herod’s rule in the region, but that can be left for another discussion. In Joseph’s case, being of the line of David, that meant leaving Nazareth to go to Bethlehem, which was a 90-mile, days-long trip on foot with pregnant wife in tow. So, they made the journey to Bethlehem, found no room anywhere to sleep or stay, and ended up staying in a stable/placing Jesus in a manger because no other options were available.
Although they did not find themselves in their predicament because of a pandemic, and Bethlehem was far from empty due to the census, I think it may be overlooked how lonely and isolating that journey could have been for them. Nazareth was their home, where their immediate family and friends would’ve likely lived, and they were forced to leave to temporarily go to Bethlehem for reasons outside of their control. Even though Bethlehem was Joseph’s ancestral town, by the very genealogical accounts given in the gospels, it was VERY ancestral. David was Joseph’s 24th-great grandfather, as Joseph was 26 generations removed (if I’m counting that correctly). We can make assumptions about what other close relatives might’ve also been in Bethlehem, but it is likely safe to assume that most the people that travelled there were very, very distantly related, and at the very least, Joseph seemingly had no close relatives that still lived in Bethlehem to call upon or relatives from Nazareth that they seemingly traveled with. Otherwise, he might have had a home to stay at instead of a stable, and we don’t hear any stories about others that stayed with them there. Although for different reasons and in different places, both the Holy Family and our own families are being prevented from being with loved ones during this season.
We also don’t have the best sense of time when we read the Biblical accounts of Christ’s very early life. How long Jesus stayed in the manger is not entirely discussed. We hear of the visits by the magi and the shepherds, but the length of time they interacted, and at what point, isn’t known. We don’t know how long the census would’ve taken. At some point, after the Holy Family’s stay in Bethlehem, there was another moment of flight as they left for Egypt to wait for the passing of Herod. Herod had every boy under two years old murdered in an effort to snuff out the prophesied new king that would usurp him. It seems like their time in Bethlehem possibly lasted for a while, and their time hiding in Egypt added even more to their journey away from home. All of this actually paints a rather somber context away from home preceding the glorious occasion of Christ’s birth and immediately following it, and all of this took time. We, too, have no certainty on how long this pandemic will last or keep us distanced from one another.
Even if the lead up to his birth was one of leaving home behind for a period and their baby sleeping in a manger for reasons outside of their control, the creche, imagined by St. Francis so long ago, captures all of this in such a beautiful display. There is humility there with simultaneous feelings of joy. There are few physical people involved, but an underlying sense of relief after a long journey in that serene isolation of the manger. Christ is at the center in all of his glory as the angels sing around him and the heavens point to him. This year provides more of a parallel to the first Christmas than we may have experienced in the past as we, too, share in the isolation of the manger as some, or possibly many, gather around with only their most immediate family in their homes. We can find strength at looking upon the Holy Family who endured all of the stress of the first Christmas journey as a personal sacrifice for all of us in the Christmas story, and we can see we are not alone in our current trials. And, we too, are not alone as we witness the glory of God made man that first Christmas, even if it’s with less friends and family than we traditionally get to see.
Let’s reflect on that humble moment that started as a family away from home, by themselves, with a baby in a manger, and ended with the greatest gift God has ever given us. Although we are in our own mangers right now, or in our own personal Egypts fleeing danger, we can still turn this isolation and uncertainty over to, as the phrase goes, the “reason for the season.” The Holy Family returned to Nazareth eventually after the storm passed to reunite with their neighbors, family, and loved ones, and we, too, will get there. For now let’s bask in the glory of Christ as it lights the room for the few of us that are together amongst the animals and the hay.
Esoteric Deliberations of a Convoluted Mind 