If you would prefer to listen to this post as a podcast, CLICK HERE.
* * * * *
NOTE: This is the third of four stories i am posting for this Advent season about the incarnational birth of Jesus. These are fictional first-person accounts of the events that surrounded His birth. Though some of the characters and details contained in these stories are fictional, you will find the truth they convey to be very REAL!
Part 1 as told by Jacob the elder (November 30th)
Part 2 as told by Clopas the uncle (December 7th)
Part 3 as told by Eliezer the cousin (This week - December 14th)
Part 4 as told by Annas the scribe (December 21st)
This week you will hear from a fictional character by the name of Eliezer. He is the son of Joseph’s fictional cousin, Achim. Achim, his wife Miriam, and all their family reside in Bethlehem. You heard about some of what Mary and Joseph encountered last week from Clopas. So let’s continue with the advent story through his eyewitness account.
* * * * *
I am Achim and Miriam’s youngest son, Eliezer. My parents named me after the prophet who boldly rebuked our ancestor King Jehoshaphat near the end of his life for aligning himself with King Ahaziah of Israel in disobedience to God. The prophet had bravely proclaimed truth even though it was unpopular, and my parents wanted me to be mindful to always do the same.
My wife Tamar, my infant son, Daniel, and I live here in the home of my parents. Both of my brothers and their families live here, too. After I became betrothed to Tamar, my father and I built a room on the second floor of our home so she and I would have a space of our own after we were married. I was proud to bring Tamar into our home after the wedding feast.
Daniel is now one year old. We’re already talking about building another room for him and his future brothers. This home has grown a lot since my brothers and I were young boys sharing one room.
Like my father and my two older brothers, I am a carpenter. Currently all four of us are working for the temple priests in Jerusalem. We are adding rooms to their administrative quarters on the Royal Porch. Even though the reconstruction work of the temple under King Herod the Great was completed a few years ago, there are always additions and changes that the priests want made.
As long as the temple treasury is able to pay us, we are more than happy to oblige. I am grateful that we are able to leave for Jerusalem just before sunrise each day, get in a good day’s work, and still be back home with our families in time for our evening meal. Occasionally we stay in Jerusalem overnight, but we try to avoid that as much as possible.
For weeks, my parents and the rest of us busily made preparations for the arrival of our extended family coming to town to register for the census. It was hard to believe that such a mundane thing as a government census could bring so much joy. And I would add that is the only joy that Roman rule has brought us!
My parents were particularly glad that my father’s cousin Joseph would be with us. They spoke of it on several occasions. In preparation, we had built an additional room on the third floor of our home just for him. It would also be used by our expanding family in the days ahead – but Joseph would be the first guest to sleep in the room. I had met him when I was a young boy, and I had seen him last spring in Jerusalem for Passover. I was looking forward to getting to know him better.
That’s why I was so surprised when one night my father told us that Joseph wouldn’t be staying with us. One of our other guests mentioned that he had seen Joseph’s brother Clopas. Clopas and his wife, Mary, were staying in the home of her sister – one of our other family members. My father didn’t give any explanation for Joseph’s absence. He and my mother glanced at each other, but nothing more was said.
That night as the rest of our guests arrived, my father insisted on stabling their animals. My brothers and I offered to help, but he would not hear of it. It seemed odd, but we knew that our father always had a reason for everything he did, so we said nothing more. We helped our guests get settled in their rooms. We had moved all of our children together so there was just enough room. We even had one room left over – the one that had been intended for Joseph.
The next day, I sensed tension between my parents. I decided it must be the stress of hosting so many people, even though that seemed out of character. We all made our way to our local synagogue to register for the census.
As I was leaving home, the shepherd’s son Shimon stopped me and asked about the family who had been in our stable the night before. I told him I didn’t know who he was talking about. There hadn’t been anyone in our stable to the best of my knowledge. He was adamant and kept asking me their names and where they had gone. I told him I had no idea who he was talking about. Eventually, he left.
When I arrived at the synagogue, I noticed someone had written “Joseph, son of Jacob, from Nazareth” in the registry. By his name was written, “his wife Mary and newborn son, Jesus.” I was certain that wasn’t our cousin Joseph because he wasn’t married yet – but I wondered who this could be.
I saw our cousin Clopas and went over to greet him. His young son James was with him. I asked about his brother Joseph, but Clopas explained he had unexpectedly been called away shortly after they arrived in town. So, I asked him to pass along my regards and that I regretted not being able to enjoy Joseph’s company.
About a week later during dinner, Tamar mentioned to my mother that she thought she had heard a baby crying on the third floor. I immediately commented with a chuckle that I kept hearing cries coming from all over our home. Between our guests and their infants, as well as my brothers’ families, there was no shortage of crying babies in our home these days.
“It’s difficult to tell from where all the cries are coming,” my mother responded. “But each one is a delight.” And then she changed the subject.
Another month passed. The census registration was completed. All of our guests had long since departed for home, and our lives had returned to normal. The temple priests kept adding to the work they wanted us to do on the administrative quarters. They demanded we have one of the rooms finished the next day. That meant one of us would need to stay in Jerusalem and work through the night. My father and brothers had already stayed, so I agreed it was my turn. I told them goodbye and continued with my work.
After several hours, I needed to get some fresh air. I walked through the Court of the Gentiles. Only a handful of people were walking around this time of night, but I came upon an older man who appeared to be praying. He looked familiar, and as I came closer, I realized it was Joseph. He was praying earnestly and didn’t notice me. As much as I wanted to speak with him and learn if everything was okay, I did not want to interrupt his prayer time.
I waited for a while, but he continued praying. I went back to work but regretted not being able to talk with him. I, like the rest of my family, was concerned for him. The next morning, I told my father and brothers about seeing Joseph. My father did not seem that interested, so the conversation went no further.
Normally, this would not have seemed odd except for what happened last evening. As usual, our household had retired early for the night. But I was restless and couldn’t sleep. I heard a quiet knock at the entry to our home. I was preparing to answer it when I heard my father say, “Greetings, strangers. What is your business here?”
The response was somewhat muffled. I saw my mother step from behind my father and tell the visitors to follow her. What I saw next amazed me! It was a regal processional dressed in colorful, royal attire. There were about a dozen men, plus servants. The servants did not enter at first but were later summoned to bring in three chests that appeared to be heavy. My mother quietly led the men up to the empty room on the third floor.
My father did not join them, but it was obvious he was curious why they had come. I was surprised that he allowed these men to enter our home and follow my mother. The two of them obviously knew something I did not. And I was going to remedy that. I decided to keep a watchful eye on them!
Only a few of the men could fit in the room at one time. As my mother opened the door, the light of a solitary lamp spilled out into the hallway. Initially, the first three men stood quietly with rapt attention focused on something – or someone – in the room. Within a matter of moments, these stately men fell to their knees and bowed their heads as if to worship. They remained kneeling for a while before they called for their servants to bring in the chests they had brought.
When the first chest was opened the sweet fragrance of frankincense began to waft out of the room. I had only smelled the fragrance once before. It was not common in our circles. But soon the soothing richness of its scent permeated our entire home. Next, they opened a chest that glistened in the lamp light. It was a chest filled with gold! They obviously were presenting these gifts to someone. But who was it? And why were they in our upper room?
They subsequently opened a chest with a third gift. It, too, emitted a fragrant scent. I had encountered this scent before. It was commonly used to prepare a body for the grave or for medicinal purposes. This chest was filled with myrrh. After the gifts were presented, the first three men stepped out of the room so the next three could enter. Each group lingered on their knees for a while before exiting, until finally all of the visitors had been in the room.
The room was silent until I heard a woman’s voice – a voice that was not familiar to me. She asked the men how they had found the child. So, there was a child in the room! Tamar had heard a baby crying! And these men had come to worship this baby! But, who was this child?
The visitors explained how they had followed a star. I had noticed a bright light in the sky, but I did not think it was unusual. But now these men were saying that the star led them to our home!
Eventually the men left, and my mother ushered them outside. The door to the upper room, however, remained open. I stepped out of my hiding place and walked to the open doorway. As I peered in, I saw a young woman holding a baby. The child was no older than six weeks. The mother looked up at me and, with a quiet nod, gave me permission to enter.
As I walked toward them, I immediately knew this was not just any child. I was immediately impressed that I needed to kneel. I didn’t know who He was, but I knew He deserved my reverence.
Just then, I heard someone else enter the room. As I looked back, I saw it was my father. Slowly and reverently, he walked into the room. When he came closer, he also fell to his knees. And then he began to weep. Quietly at first, but then he began to cry uncontrollably.
“I am so sorry, Mary,” he said between sobs. “I am so sorry I did not believe you and Joseph. I have thought and spoken evil of you, when all you two did was be faithful servants to our God. I refused you entry into my home! I refused entry to the child of the Living God! I turned my back on you – and Him! Mary, please forgive me!” Then he turned his gaze on the baby and said, “My God, please forgive me!”
My mother entered the room and quickly knelt beside my father, embracing him. Then we all bowed before the baby. I asked His name. “Jesus,” Mary replied. I immediately remembered the entry I had seen on the census registration.
By now, our entire household was awake. I looked around and saw Tamar, my brothers and their wives, as well as some of the older children. Tamar came and knelt beside me. We couldn’t all fit in the room. Some of the family spilled out into the hallway, but we all gathered in worship.
Mary told us the story of how the angel Gabriel had come to her. She told us about the events that had led to today, including the visits from the shepherds and the magi. God had heralded the birth of His Son, right here in our midst – and we hadn’t had eyes to see or hearts to receive – until now!
My mother embraced Mary, as did Tamar and my two sisters-in-law. Each one took turns holding the baby and gazed into His welcoming eyes. We all knew our lives would never be the same. It was a night that will forever be etched in our hearts.
Joseph arrived early the next morning. Mary’s days of purification were now complete. It was time for them to go to the temple in Jerusalem and bring their offerings for purification and redemption. From there, they would return home.
Joseph and my father embraced as my father wept and spoke quietly in his ear. It would be several days before we all knew what had truly transpired. But whatever the misunderstandings were, it appeared that hearts had been mended. However, we regretted not having more time to spend with Mary and Jesus. We were all sad to see them leave.
Since my father, brothers, and I were also headed to Jerusalem, we traveled with Joseph and his family to the temple. My father gave Joseph one of our donkeys so they could transport the gifts from the magi. We embraced and then left them to continue to the temple. As we parted, we promised to see one another in the spring in Jerusalem for the Passover.
Little did I know that we would not see each other at the next Passover. God had a different journey planned for His Son.
* * * * *
You can listen to the audiobook version of this story as narrated by Kyle Bullock by tuning into this week’s episode of my podcast by CLICKING HERE.
This story is taken from Little Did We Know, a collection of twenty-five short stories for the Advent season. The book is available through Amazon in standard print, large print, and for your Kindle or Kindle app. It is also available as an audiobook. Click HERE for more information on how you can obtain your copy.
* * * * *
Copyright © 2022 Kenneth A. Winter All rights reserved.
Photo by LUMO-The Gospels for the visual age on Lightstock