Freedom Fellowship Advent Podcast

Mary’s Lullaby
Hidden in my womb so deep
Safe beneath my heart,
Be still, Little One, for very soon
Your life from me will part.
Who will you be
O Son of mine
Is it true what the angels say?
I care not, as long as soon
In my arms, You safely lay.

The valley of the Jordan River borders the land of Samaria to the west and the Decapolis to the east. Running fifty or so miles due south to the Dead Sea, it was the most common travel route to Jerusalem and beyond for the Jews who lived in the beautiful area of Galilee. The more direct route to Bethlehem would take the young couple through Samaria, but no Jew would dare cross over the border of their vowed enemy. Crossing over the Jordan near Scythopolis, Joseph and Mary turned south, following the Jordan River for many miles.

Only speculation would allow us a glimpse of life on the road. But consider these things.

• The road was also used by the occupying army of the Roman Empire, whose cruelty and harshness was a constant threat to all Jews.

• This was possibly the first time that Mary had ever ventured this far outside the familiar surroundings of her home in Nazareth without her parents.

• All of their food, clothing, and supplies would have to be carried with them, severely limiting the amount and quantity they would have.

• They would have to cross several rivers before reaching their turning off point northeast of Jericho.

Mary was only days away from delivering her first child. During this trip she would be subject to the added discomfort that naturally occurs before childbirth—swelling in her feet, hands, and legs, added back pain, shortness of breath. She experienced all of this while either walking or sitting on a donkey for four to six hours a day. Remember—Mary was a girl, who in today’s world, would not be old enough to even drive a car.

One can only imagine the physical strain and punishment that Mary was experiencing. Think also of the emotional strain that was on young Joseph. Probably in his early twenties, he was responsible not only for his young bride but for the baby she was carrying that he had not fathered. All they knew was what the angels had told them. Unlike us, they did not have the storyline written out for them.

They had no idea that the week before Mary would have her child they would be traveling the 80 miles on foot to a city where they knew no one, had no lodging prepared, and no work to provide daily food and shelter. Without exaggeration, it was the worst possible circumstance that any young couple could find themselves in.

Little did they know that God considered it "the fullness of time."

Wee little Mary who all thought good
Believed the angel’s word,
But what thought those who with her stood
When of her blessed womb they heard?

There was much joy in the camp along the road to Bethlehem that night. Mary’s mother never left her side. Her father, Heli, continually doted over their care, setting the example for the rest of the family. The family, he said, had suffered enough shame, and now it was to be over.

Mary’s strength improved throughout the day. Her mother’s home cooking certainly helped, but the tenderness and concern of her family was the real medicine.

And now it was time to leave. Heli gathered the clan together and placed Joseph and Mary in the middle. His old calloused hands placed firmly on their heads, for the first time since the supposed sin was discovered, he pronounced his blessing.

“Hear O Israel! May the womb of my daughter be blessed! May her children arise and call her blessed! May this child...,” his voice broke with the strain of love withheld, “May my grandchild be great in all Israel!” A great shout went up from the little band of Jews gathered near the Jordan River that day.

The young couple was now covered with the kisses and well wishes of the family. Everyone dug into their belongings and supplies, blessing

Mary and Joseph with so much that Heli gave another donkey to carry it all. With Mary as comfortable as possible on old Ben, the two started south as the children ran ahead to usher them on their way. The others shouted their blessings after them. Traveling mercies were given until the voices could no longer be heard.

The joy of acceptance filled Mary and Joseph. Mary softly hummed her little song as Joseph walked ahead, intent on reaching Jericho by nightfall. And then, with a voice full of hope, Mary said, “Joseph, tell me again how it will all be.”
Tears of joy were caught in the corner of Joseph’s eye. Everything is going to be all right!" he thought, and then he began the familiar story.

“My sweet Mary, what the angels told us is true! It’s going to be a wonderful life...”

Have you ever thought how strange of Him to introduce His Son through the appearance of sin?

Mary could not take much more. Joseph feared for her. Over the days, her voice was tinged more and more with pain. He feared for the baby. Would Mary have the strength left when the child chose to be born? He was too young, too inexperienced, for this.

After all, a Jewish man was not supposed to know about babies being born. In the village, the midwife was present along with the mother, grandmother and many others. The men just moved aside. “Why me?” Joseph thought, “Oh God, why did you choose me, of all the men of Israel!”

The sun was not even high over the Samaritan hills when Mary cried out. Joseph, lost in his own thoughts, was so startled that little Ben almost fell backward when he whipped around to face Mary.

“Joseph, I can’t go any further," Mary shouted, "I have to...aaaahh!” Joseph was aghast.

What he had feared more than Roman soldiers, robbers, or dark nights appeared to be imminent. The baby would come here in the Jordan Valley far from any city. Without the help and care of a midwife, chances were slim that Mary or the baby would survive.

He helped Mary from the donkey and quickly spread out the bedding in the shade of a large oak tree. “Come Mary. Lie down. Everything is going to be all right.” But his face betrayed the fear of the moment. The pains continued to come. Would all that the angels told end here?

But what is that? Coming from the south. Voices. Laughing. The dust people kicked into the air gave Joseph enough time to hide their belongings and the donkey as best as he could. Robbers and scoundrels no doubt.

Joseph was so intent on Mary that he never noticed the little children that had gathered around the makeshift tent. When he looked up, there they were, staring at the frightened couple as if they had discovered a great treasure. Then one of them, a little girl with a toothless grin yelled out, “Aunt Mary!” Turning, she ran up the road followed by the others, yelling to the adults, “It’s Mary and Joseph! We found Mary and Joseph!”

Mary’s family and the others from the village were returning to Bethlehem and happened upon the couple. And what a time to find them! All thoughts of shame were instantly gone as the women rushed to little Mary’s aid. Her mother now sat with Mary’s head cradled in her lap, her tears falling as she gently caressed her daughter. The mid-wife of the clan examined Mary with the skill borne from many births. Joseph stood with her father and the other men off at a distance and offered prayers to Jehovah for the safe delivery of the child. But no child came. The pains slowly subsided. Finally, Mary was asleep.

No, there was no baby born that day. But something else was birthed. In the fear and excitement of the moment, everyone forgot about the shame of Mary’s circumstance. No one cared, in the moment of need, about anything other than Mary and the baby’s safety. The rest of the day the poor Jewish peasants rejoiced—for the first time openly—at the soon-coming birth of Mary’s baby.

What did the angels say
when you stripped away Your glory?
Did they turn away in shame?
Did they recognize You?
Did some stare in horror
as God became like me?
It was not enough though, was it,
for you to become like me.
You who lived before eternity
and walked the heavens
and held the constellations in Your hand
were reduced to a clump of cells
tucked into the womb of a child.
For me.
And that, dearest Lord, I do not understand.
Marvelous are Thy works.

The baby Jesus was born sometime in the night on a hillside outside of Bethlehem, the same hillsides that provided the choicest grazing in all Israel. It was on those hillsides that the lambs were raised that would be used in the Temple sacrifices. Most likely, the “stable’ in which Jesus was born was part of a series of caves dug from the hillside that kept the sheep and other livestock in the small town.

The lamb of God, born in the very pens that kept the sheep used for the Temple sacrifices. How like God to do such a thing. There is no mention of anyone who ventured out to help or assist. Surely if there had been, Mary would have noted their names or descriptions to the Gospel writers.

But no one came. And in majestic irony, God appointed the heavenly birth choir to sing to a group of shepherds keeping their flocks at night. Surely they, of all people would recognize the spotless Lamb of God.

I wonder what Mary and Joseph thought when the scraggly, unkempt shepherds showed up to marvel at the child! Were they to be evicted now from the stable? Did Joseph stand up to defend his family against the intruders? Did he understand their rough dialect as they described the scene of angels who had appeared to them?

I wonder what it must have been like.

Over the course of the next several days, Joseph registered his little family with the Roman tax collectors. He had to find decent lodging, or maybe just make the stable more tolerable until he found work. They would stay in Bethlehem for a year or so until an angel would give Joseph instructions to flee from Herod’s sword.

It would be years before they would see their beloved Galilee again. Those years were spent by Joseph and Mary faithfully protecting the baby Jesus from the serpent.

Jesus knew the same hardships of any other child who is homeless, poor, and an outcast of society. He was the son of an unmarried teenage girl and born into an ethnic group that was only several generations away from complete slavery. He was like us. en again, He was not like us at all, because He chose to identify with the worst our world could offer. He chose to be the least of men so that no man would have reason to reject Him.

And that is why we worship Him this day.

Merry Christmas, Jesus.

The Innkeeper’s Wife
“No, there’s no room for the likes of you,
and yes, I can see your wife.
Now get from the door, let the others by,
don’t trouble me with your life.

Besides the fact, have you no sense
to bring her so close to time?
Why in God’s name would you have a child,
there’s quite enough of your kind!

If you must there’s a cave, a place for sheep,
outback on the hillside near.
Go out there, don’t bother to pay,
just don’t let my husband hear.”

And so it was that God’s cruel plan
to enter our broken estate,
was greeted with the best we had
and that, almost too late.

God’s precious Lamb, spotless and pure,
born in a cave out of sight.
For no room in the hearts of lost mankind
could be found that silent night.

Jericho had been kind to the young travelers. An elderly shopkeeper and his wife took pity on the couple as they watered the donkeys in the town square. A good meal and a soft bed was all Mary needed to be fast asleep in a matter of moments.

The old shopkeeper took Joseph aside after Mary was settled. “Now Joseph, as you leave Jericho, don’t stop until you reach Jerusalem! It’s a treacherous road filled with robbers all along the way. Try to band together with other pilgrims, and stick to the main road. No shortcuts, Joseph! They’re sure to mean disaster.”
Before the sun was up, Joseph had the donkeys ready and loaded. The old couple sent them on their way with dried fish and matzoh cakes. Fortunately, a number of other travelers had also waited till first light making a sizable group with whom the two could travel.

The others would spend the Sabbath in Jerusalem, but Joseph knew that Mary’s time had run out. He had to reach Bethlehem by nightfall. The shofar horn, beginning the Sabbath, sounded as the two reached the city gates of Bethlehem.

“Joseph, what now?” asked Mary. Her breathing was labored. Her face smeared with the dust of many bone-jarring miles on the back of the donkey. Joseph could sense that the labor pains had begun once again. “We need to find an inn that will keep us, Mary. Let’s try over there.” Making their way past the city gates, they joined the crowds of people who had come to register for Caesar’s tax.

Everyone, it seemed, had come to register. From one door to the next, the two asked for lodging. But it was obvious. No one wanted to board the dirty peasants from Galilee. One look at their dress and that was all it took to say no. The last door presented the same story.

An old lady, the matron of the inn, greeted them with the same indifference as the others. “Yes, I can see for myself that your wife is about to have a baby, but that doesn’t change the fact that we have no room. Now get along with you!”

Tears welled up in Mary’s eyes. The pain, weariness, and loneliness were too much. Her first child would be born on a street corner and not survive the night. Joseph was panicking. "Oh God," he thought, "please don’t abandon us now!" Turning to go, Joseph looked into Mary’s pain-filled face. He didn’t have any more answers to give.

“Wait a minute, you two.” The faintest tone of compassion came from the doorway. Joseph turned to face the woman who quickly glanced over her shoulder before she spoke.

“There’s some old sheep pens out behind the inn. You’re welcome to stay up there if you want. Go around back, and I’ll show you the trail. Well, do you want it or not?”

Before Joseph had time to speak, Mary cried out a response. “No time left. Hurry, please let’s just go.” Joseph lifted Mary from the donkey and placed her on a quickly made bed of straw.

The pains were quickening. There was no time left to find a midwife. And so a poor, young carpenter and his child bride cried alone in the night waiting for God to appear.