NOTE: For this Advent season, my blog posts will be taking a different turn. Starting today and for the four weeks that follow, i will be posting five short stories surrounding the incarnational birth of Jesus. Though i will endeavor to keep each story factual as to the details conveyed through the Gospels – by their nature these stories will be fictional first person accounts involving both historical and fictional characters, as well as fictional details that have been incorporated into each narrative. My prayer is that, through the telling, we witness anew the glory of our Heavenly Father expressed through the incarnational birth of His One and Only Son. To that end, let’s look at the account through the eyes of five very different individuals:

Joseph – A humble carpenter (This week - December 4)

Achim – Joseph’s cousin (December 11)

Moshe – A Bethlehem shepherd (December 18)

Simeon – An expectant prophet (December 25)

Balthazar – A Babylonian scholar (January 1)

My name is Joseph. I’m a carpenter. My father Jacob was a carpenter, as was his father Matthan. As a matter of fact, my ancestors have been carpenters as far back as anyone can remember. Well, maybe not as far back as anyone remembers. My ancestor David was actually a shepherd – that is until he became the King of Israel. And his son Solomon, who is also my ancestor, is considered by many to have been the wisest king our people ever had. Thirteen of my ancestors, who were the successive descendants of Solomon, followed him in ruling over our nation as kings of Judah. Most of those did evil in the eyes of the Lord – so I share my family connection to them with great reluctance. But there is no denying that royal blood courses through my veins.

We are God’s chosen people living in the land that He promised our patriarch Abraham about two thousand years ago. He brought us into this land through the leadership of Moses and Joshua fourteen hundred years ago. But though we dwell in the land God gave us, we have been living here as conquered captives for over five hundred years. Our people have been subjected to foreign rule – first the Babylonians, then the Persians and the Greeks, and now the Romans. 

When you stop to think about it, we have been captives in our own land longer than we were foreigners and slaves in Egypt. We have long grown weary under the rule of our pagan oppressors who have little to no regard for our Lord God Jehovah. We pray for deliverance from our oppression much like our ancestors prayed for their deliverance from Egyptian bondage. Through the prophets, our God has promised to send His Messiah to deliver us. Each generation for hundreds of years has hoped and believed He would come in their lifetime. But four hundred years have passed since the last great prophet Malachi – and all we have heard from heaven is silence! Our hearts are heavy and our hope has grown dim, but we live our lives trusting our God for His promise.

King David grew up in and around the town of Bethlehem. So it is considered to be my ancestral home. Some of my relatives still live there. But over the centuries many of my family have scattered to other parts of Judea and Galilee. My great-great-grandfather Eliud led his family to inhabit the city of Nazareth. The town had been destroyed by the Assyrians many years before, but Eliud and others came to that area to rebuild the town. His carpentry skills were put to great use as the town rearose from its ashes. And the skills of each of our generations to follow have assisted in continuing that effort. My younger brother Clopas and I make a steady living with our skill.

My first wife Rebekah died several years ago. She developed a high fever that the priests and midwives could not cure. We were married for twenty years. Soon after we were married, we discovered that Rebekah was barren and we would have no children. It was cause for sadness throughout our marriage – but we knew that it was the will of God. Throughout those years – and since – I have regretted not having a son to mentor and teach. I did however train my brother Clopas – but I have still longed for the opportunity to do so with a son. In the years following Rebekah’s death, I prayed to God for a wife that would give me a son. And one day, praise be to God – He answered!

Eli and I grew up together. He was also a carpenter, so we had much in common. I remember the day that he and his wife had a little baby girl who they named Mary. She was the apple of his eye and he doted on her. I watched her grow as a little girl and then as she became a young woman. She had a soft and gentle nature. She honored her parents in all that she did, and demonstrated a great love and reverence for our God.  She was a hard worker and demonstrated a quick wit. Eli’s wife – Mary’s mother – died about the same time as my Rebekah. I’ll never forget the tenderness she showed to her father as he walked through his grief – despite the fact that she was walking through her own. 

In the months that followed Mary continued to mature into a radiant and tender young woman. She caught the attention of many of the young men within our town. So no one was more surprised than I when Eli approached me about marrying his daughter. I am old enough to be Mary’s father – though such an age difference is not uncommon in marriages of our day. I could not deny that the possibility was captivating. I told him that I would pray and consider his offer.

Over the next several days I made a rather lengthy mental list of the reasons why I was not the right man to become Mary’s husband, but I could not think of one single reason why she would be unsuited to be my wife. As I prayed, I sensed God was leading me to go back to Eli.

“Eli,” I said, “I would be honored and humbled to take your daughter Mary as my wife. I would care for her. I would provide for her. And I would love her with my whole heart. But before I can give you an answer, I must know that this is what Mary wants as well. I will not enter into a marriage arrangement that she does not want. So you need to discuss the matter with her and let me know what she says.”

Truth be told, I thought that would be the last time he and I would speak of it. I was certain that she had her heart set on a different match. So, no one was more surprised than me when he returned a week later to tell me that Mary was also in favor of the match. She desired to become my wife! It was all I could do to keep from shouting with glee – and thanking God for His goodness to me! Of all men, I was the most envied when three weeks later we announced our betrothal. We set a date for the wedding feast of one year from the day of our betrothal. 

I continued to be the happiest – and most blessed – of men, as I awaited the consummation of our marriage. Three months had passed when one day Mary came to me with startling news. She told me she was pregnant! But she assured me that she was still a virgin. She told me that she had become pregnant by the Holy Spirit.

“An angel by the name of Gabriel appeared to me,” she said. “He told me that God has decided to bless me! I will become pregnant and have a son. He will be very great and He will be called the Son of the Most High God. The Lord God will give Him the throne of David. And He will reign over Israel forever. His Kingdom will never end.(1)

“I asked him how this could be possible and he told me that the Holy Spirit would come upon me, and the power of the Most High God would overshadow me. Joseph, I have not broken our vows. This is an act of our Most High God. I do not fully understand what is happening – but I know I must trust Him. But I need to know, do you trust me? Do you trust that all I have told you is the truth?”

My heart was broken! I hadn’t really heard all that she had said after she told me she was pregnant. She had said something about the Holy Spirit coming upon her. But all I could think was that this young woman whom I thought was without guile had somehow sullied herself and broken our contract. I thought of the shame and disgrace that would come upon her – and the hushed tones that would be uttered against me. I told her that I must think about all that she had told me before I could give her an answer.

After she returned to her home, I continued to ponder all that she had said. I was in anguish! I had gone from being the happiest of men to becoming the most broken of men. But as much as I hurt for myself, my love for her did not diminish in any way. I decided out of my love for her and my friendship with Eli, I would quietly break our betrothal so as not to disgrace her publicly. Eli could then send her away from Nazareth to stay with a distant relative. 

My sleep that night was fitful. But in the midst of it, an angel of the Lord appeared to me in a dream. In it he said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to go ahead with your marriage to Mary. For the child within her has been conceived by the Holy Spirit. And she will have a son, and you are to name Him Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins. All of this has happened to fulfill the Lord’s message through His prophet:

Look! The virgin will conceive a child. 

She will give birth to a son, and He will be called Immanuel 

(meaning God is with us).”(2)

 The next morning when I awoke, I ran to Eli’s home. Both Eli and Mary wept as I told them what the angel had said to me. I told her my answer was “yes!” “Mary, I trust that all you have told me is the truth,” I said. “I trust you and I trust God. How favored you are above all women! And how favored am I to become your husband and a father to this One who is in your womb!”

Mary came home with me that day to be my wife, but she remained a virgin until after the baby was born. Eli knew and believed the truth, as did my brother Clopas. But most of the people in our town began to look at us differently. They kept their distance from us. Those we told about the angel’s visits looked at us with suspicion. Others looked at us – particularly Mary – with disdain. I hated that for her. God by His grace had chosen her to be His vessel. She was to be honored, not despised. But life was never to be the same from then on. There would always be whispered inuendoes.

For centuries our people had awaited the arrival of the promised Messiah. All my life I had hoped that He would come during my lifetime. I had prayed that I might be able to get a glimpse of Him. But in my wildest dreams I never thought that my wife would give birth to Him. I had prayed for a son – and God by His grace had chosen me to be the earthly father of His Son. All I could think about was how inadequate I was to be His father and Mary’s husband. But I knew that the same God who could enable a virgin to give birth to His Son would empower a lowly carpenter to be the father and husband He needed me to be. By His grace, I would trust and follow Him!

About that time we received word that the Roman ruler Caesar Augustus had decreed that a census had to be taken throughout our land. We were all to return to our ancestral homes to be registered. For me that was Bethlehem, so I made preparations for Mary and me to make the three day journey. The baby would soon be born. This was not a good time to make this trip. But we didn’t have a choice. Once again I admired Mary’s bravery – not only because of the challenges of making such a trip during this late stage of her pregnancy – but also because of the additional stares and whispers she would be forced to endure en route – and in Bethlehem.

I planned for us to stay, while we were in Bethlehem, in the home of one of my cousins -- Achim. I hoped he would welcome us with open arms. So we set off, together with my brother Clopas and his young wife, whose name was also Mary, on our journey to our ancestral home -- the town of David.

Little did I know where all the journey would lead…

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(1)Luke 1:30-33 NLT

(2)Matthew 1:20-23 NLT

Copyright © 2019 Kenneth A. Winter All rights reserved.

First published on kenwinter.org