Not even the greatest angel, in all his glory, can say that he truly understands the meaning of Christmas. That's because Christmas is the celebration of the central mystery of Christianity, the birth of the God-man, Jesus the Savior, Christ the King, Yashua Bar-Joseph of Nazareth, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, Almighty God, utterly helpless newborn naked ape.

This union of God and humanity in the person of Jesus Christ is called the mystery of the hypostatic union by theologians. St. John took a stab at explaining it, but not even the greatest angel, in all his glory, can say that he understands it. That's why it's called a mystery. In all creation, person and nature are unique. I am a specific human being. You are another specific human being. Lucy is my son's dog. Joe Biden was Vice President of the United States. The Wicked Witch is dead. The Battleship Arizona is still in commission. Each of us can perhaps imagine being a millionaire, or a motion picture actor, or a cowboy or a fireman or a nurse. We might even speculate about what it would be like to be an animal or an alien from outer space, or even an inanimate object, like a star or a stone. But no one can really understand what it would be like to be simultaneously an oyster and a diesel locomotive. Yet the difference between God and humanity is literally infinitely greater than that between an oyster and a locomotive. You can say the words, but you can't really think the thought. It just can't be done. Not by us, not by the theologians, not by even the greatest angel, in all his glory. Only by God.

When I was a child, we never saw Jesus in the bible movies. We saw the back of his head, or his hands, or perhaps his feet. I seem to remember seeing the crucified Christ from the other side of the cross, the side that always faces the wall. The reason for this was obvious when actors did begin to portray Jesus. They never got him right. He either came off as a self-satisfied wimp, whom no one would take seriously, or else as a dangerous psychopath, whom society was well and gladly rid of at the end of the story.

They don't seem to have nearly as much trouble just playing God. Not even the greatest angel, in all his glory, can say that he has done it, but many humans have. That role has been played by actors from George Burns to Alanis Morissette. (See "People Who Have Played God.") In my opinion, Burns was the best, but then he was the oldest, which gave him a natural edge. (He claimed that he did it without makeup!) Playing God straight is fairly easy, for every actor has a pretty good concept of what he imagines God to be, and playing someone you imagine is what acting is all about.

But playing someone is who is God and an itinerant preacher at the same time is tough. The whole idea is completely outside the actor's experience. So they look sad and mysterious and speak in parables a lot, or else they let everyone know straight out that they are the Ultimate Boss and it's best to keep on their good side. They can't play the man, because then the God doesn't show, and they can't play God without washing out the man. So they play a cripple, someone who isn't nearly God and is not quite human either, but something other, something usually not very believable.

That Jesus is God is an act of faith. Either you believe it or you don't. I do. My Muslim and Jewish (and some Christian) friends don't. They are good and holy people. They have their light and I have mine. Faith.

That Jesus was a human being is a well documented historical fact. While non-Christians may point out that there are gaping holes in the visitation narrative or what happened in the forty days after the baptism of Jesus or in the 30 or so years before that event, there can be little doubt that there was a well-known Jewish preacher from Galilee in Palestine at about the beginning of the Christian era, who was crucified by the Roman occupation forces after an indictment for blasphemy by the religious elders of Judea. Modern Christians call him "Jesus." Muslims call him "Isa." The actual pronunciation of his Aramaic name was probably more like, "Yoshua." But calling him "Joshua" gets him confused with Moses' lieutenant and the Biblical book. "Jesus" ("Gee-sus" in English and "Hay-soos" in Spanish) works OK in Old English texts.

A reading of the gospels gives us a great deal of information about this man. There is no doubt that he was in fact a man. We see Jesus alone, with his friends, with his enemies, with his family, and with cheering, as well as jeering, mobs of his fellow countrymen. In one situation he is exuberant, in another depressed. He praises acts of virtue; he weeps at the death of his friend. He chats with the women and children and rebukes the hypocrites. He is often concerned and sympathetic, but sometimes tired and cross. He is obviously delighted at some flash of insight and understanding of his teaching, angered at the abuses of the moneychangers in the temple, and frustrated at the stubbornness of the people of his boyhood home town when they refused to listen to him. A close look at certain events in his life, to remove the veneer of reverent and pious translators, will show that Jesus played a practical joke now and then to illustrate a difficult point or defuse an explosive situation. And in the garden of Gethsemene, when he knew he was about to be arrested, tortured and put to death, he was mortally afraid!

We don't see much of him as a boy. Of course, St. Luke's version of his birth is the original Christmas story, but Luke leaves out huge chunks which would make it so much more appealing. Where did Joseph and Mary make camp on their week long journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem, a distance of over 95 miles, over rough, bandit infested country, with primitive roads. Why did Mary go along, when she was so close to term. Why didn't she stay with her own parents, or with friends, or with Joseph's father?^[1] Who were the Wise Men, and where did they come from?^[2] Who was the midwife? (No midwife? There's nothing in the Gospels to suggest that!)^[3] Why do the shepherds appear in the story?^[4] How did young (sixteen to twenty years old) Joseph cope with the unexpected journey, the complication of no place to stay,^[5] and the untimely birth of a child not his own? What did the family do in Egypt? When and how did they return? How were they received in Nazareth after so long and unexplained an absence? All we really know is about the birth, and that's Christmas.

The story of Christmas is about a very common event, the birth of a baby. This makes Christmas for everyone, for every one of us was once what Jesus was, a child, a baby, a fetus, an embryo. From the moment of our conception, even if we are never born, Jesus himself was once a being like us.

Where did Jesus go to school? Who were his teachers? We can picture him messing in his diapers, crying to be nursed, cutting his first tooth, eating all kinds of disgusting things when his mother wasn't looking. We can almost see him taking his first step, speaking his first word, proudly pointing out this and that letter of the Aramaic alphabet as he learned it. We know he wandered away on a family trip to Jerusalem, possibly at the age of twelve or so, the age of a modern Jewish boy's bar-mitzvah. We wonder what Jesus was like as a teenager. (Did he have a problem with zits? Was he popular with the Nazareth girls? Was he good at sports?) What did he do in his twenties? Did he work as a craftsman? What happened to Joseph? Why did he move to Capernaum?^[6] Who looked after his mother when he was gone?

Jesus-God-the-Son doesn't show until later, at the age when a modern adult enters his mid-life crisis years and begins to reevaluate who he is and how he fits into the scheme of things. (Could there be a hint there?) There is a miracle or two here and there, the first one a little quiet one which saved his friends from social disgrace and helped everyone to have a good time at a party. But nothing so spectacular that it would save him from death at the hands of the pagans. And the Christian scriptures all agree that he was dead. There is absolutely no doubt among Christians of that. He received a scourging which strong men often did not survive. He hung on a cross in the desert noonday sun for three hours afterward. After being stabbed through the heart, he was officially pronounced dead by a duly certified official of the occupying powers. His mother and friends were present at his burial.

But then, for several weeks afterward, he was seen apparently healthy and strong by many of his friends. It's only after the death of Jesus-the-man that we recognize Jesus-the-God.

But that's Easter. That's The Resurrection, Christ the King, the Savior of the World. Easter's OK, but we're talking about Christmas. What makes Christmas so much more popular than Easter? It is, after all, about the birth of a baby. What's so special about that?

I think Christmas is so popular because it's not about Jesus so much as it is about us. (For us human beings, and for our salvation, He came down from heaven.) St. John says the Word became flesh and lived (dwelt? pitched his tent?) among us. Christmas is the formal celebration of the miracle which occurs every day, in every town and city around the world, the miracle of birth and life, by which God, in his infinite mercy, bestows the blessings of immortality upon our frail race.

It is all this and much more!

Christmas is the Good News of Christianity, double filtered and boiled down and triple distilled. It's the wonderful, exciting, utterly incredible news that, no matter what our station, whether we are fabulously rich oil barons or starving Somalis or South American natives living in a mud hut, we are worth something in the mind of God Himself. It is the ultimate certification that our lives matter, that each one of us, young or old, rich or poor, famous or unknown, simply by being human, by being what we are, has a dignity unmatched by any other creature in this universe, or, indeed, beyond it. John says that, "...as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God!

There's no record that He ever did that for any of the angels!

^[1] The census tax ordered by Caesar Augustus required that everybody had to go to his ancestral home to be counted. Mary, being "great with child" might have had a valid excuse to stay home. However, as Joseph's wife, she legally belonged to his "house and family" as much as he did. Given the circumstances of Mary's pregnancy, both newlyweds may have felt it appropriate that she go along with him to testify to the legitimacy of their married status and the legal royal heritage of their child.

Some historians have suggested that Mary was a despised social outcast as the result of her being "found with child" before she lived with Joseph, and that no one, not even her own family, would condescend to take care of her while Joseph was away. I think this is highly unlikely. Matthew strongly suggests that the fatherhood of her child was a secret between her and Joseph, and that at worst her neighbors might have thought that she and Joseph had "anticipated the ceremony" a little, which was admittedly inappropriate, but certainly not on a moral level with fornication or adultery, since they were already legally married (espoused, betrothed), as both Matthew and Luke were careful to point out. In modern times, the Jewish erusin is a kind of engagement, but during Joseph's time, the espousal or betrothal was a formal, binding relationship, which could be terminated only by a formal divorce or death of one of the partners. It is also possible that nobody (including the inexperienced Mary) knew precisely when she was due, and may have thought that she had plenty of time before the blessed event.

In addition, as both a husband and a father of pregnant teenagers (which Mary was), I think I can provide a more rational explanation. Teenage girls, especially pregnant ones, are pretty persistent. Mary, as a newly married one, might have been especially so. I can well envision an exchange something like this:

Joseph: "But Sweetheart, it's going to be a long trip. You'd better stay here. I'll be back in a couple of weeks."

Mary: "Oh, Joseph, Honey, I just can't bear to be without you that long. Please can I come? Please, please please please, pleeeeeese? I promise I won't have the baby until we get back! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese!"

Traditional pictures show Joseph and Mary (and the donkey) alone, but that would have been like being the only car on Interstate 10 (the week before Christmas!), except for bandits, today. People who traveled cross country by themselves didn't do that more than once, as the victim of the story of the Good Samaritan found out the hard way. The young couple was almost certainly part of a large, well-armed caravan slowly wending its way from the embarkation station out of Nazareth.

Given this, there is reason to believe that Mary may have been confused about where the Bethlehem to which they were going was. There is anecdotal evidence that there was a sheep-herder town with the same name about six miles from Nazareth, where Joseph and Mary lived. It might well have been the first oasis on the trek south, which would have made it easy for young Mary to think that was their destination. Luke is very careful to document the trip to Bethlehem, the City of David, in Judea, about five miles south of Jerusalem, but I think it's possible that Mary thought they were just taking a trip down the road. That would explain why the adults didn't try hard to stop her. They may have thought Joseph was going to Bethlehem, Galilee, too. As a Long Beach, Mississippi, resident, I know for a fact that most people think Long Beach is in California. If you were in Los Angeles and someone said he was going to Long Beach, would you assume he was going to Mississippi? Probably not! Something like this may well have taken place:

Mary: "Honey, why are we going this way?"

Joseph: "This is the road to Judea, Sweetheart."

Mary: "But the sign over there says that Bethlehem is that way. Don't you think you ought to stop and ask for directions?"

Joseph: "No, Sweetums, that's the road to Bethlehem, Galilee. We're going to Bethlehem, Judea."

Mary: "Judea! But that's all the way past......Ohhhhhhhhhh Noooooooooooo!....."

^[2] Unfortunately the story of the magi has been the subject of so much historical twisting that is scarcely makes sense nowadays. Grade school Nativity plays usually get it woefully wrong. In the King James Version, Matthew 2:1 (of the KJV) says "Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem." The sense seems to be that the "wise men" "came from" the east at the same time that Jesus was born. Traditionally, the story says that they were three kings named "Caspar," "Melchior" and "Balthasaar," following a never before seen star that somehow magically informed them that they were going to find Baby Jesus, who was still in the place where he had been born, and to whom they gave "gifts" they had brought with them for the purpose. These "wise men" are sometimes called "astrologers" to support the assertion that they learned about Baby Jesus by observing the "star," and taking for granted that the fictional pseudo-science of astrology would have enabled them to do that. They are portrayed as Caucasian, Negroid and Asian to suggest that they came from all over (and presumably met in Bethlehem) Scripture, however, paints a different picture:

The Latin Vulgate, from which the KJV is a political translation, identifies the visitors as "magi," not "wise men," "kings" or "astrologers." The word "magi" means "priests in the service of the Persian god Ahura Mazda" in what is today the country of Iran. The KJV translators may not have known that, or may have not wanted to interrupt the Christian narrative with remarks about pagan priests. In any case, the phrase "from the east" can modify either the word "came" or the word "magi," which may mean that they were from the east, not necessarily that they were coming from there. They themselves said that they had seen the star "in the east," (some Bibles say "at it's rising") which suggests that they were west of it. Matthew doesn't say how many there were, or what they were called (certainly not "Caspar," "Melchior" and "Balthasaar"). Incidentally, he doesn't even suggest that they were kings or astrologers.

If they had been following a star in the east, as they said, they would have to have been traveling east, which means they were coming from the west. If they were from the east, and were going that way by following a rising star, they were coming home from whatever they were doing in Judea when they started following it. Jerusalem is actually in the eastern part of Israel, about 15 miles from the Jordan River. There wasn't anything much west of Jerusalem except wide open spaces, small towns, and the Mediterranean Sea. If they were heading east toward Jerusalem, they had to be coming from the seacoast, which makes them either sailors or merchants. Merchants would have been following roads, not stars, but sailors would have been following the stars, because that's how sailors find their way around. Astrologers, on the other hand, would be more likely to stay in their observatories watching the star, and, like sailors, would not have been surprised to see it travel from the east to the west, like all the other billions and billions of stars in the entire universe!

Matthew's assertion that when they saw the star, they "rejoiced with exceeding great joy" suggests that they were afraid of getting lost amid the smog and city lights of Jerusalem, which is additional evidence that they weren't familiar with the road net or terrain and relied instead on celestial navigation. My guess is that they were navigating by a well known star (Al-tair? Al-Nilam?) to the seaport at Joppa, transferred their cargo from ship to caravan, kept going on the trade highway to Jerusalem, visited Herod, and then turned south toward Bethlehem, all the while keeping their eyes on whatever star they were using as a guide, which was on their left after they passed through Jerusalem. Bethlehem is about 5 miles a little east of south. If the magi had been following the same star when they left Jerusalem that they said they had been following to Jerusalem, they would have missed Bethlehem completely. Herod, of course, had "sent them to Bethlehem," so presumably he had told them how to get there.

Historical evidence indicates that, even like today, there were many people who felt that they were experiencing the "last days," and expected the Messiah to arrive any minute; the magi may have been some of them. The Prophet Micah specifically identifies the location of his birth as Bethlehem-Ephrathah, the city where Rachel died, the place where David was anointed as king by Samuel; and from whose well that three of his heroes brought water for him at the risk of their lives when he was in the cave of Adullam. As wealthy sailors just passing through Judea, they certainly would have noted the unusually large crowds of people along the same road who were either on their way to their ancestral home towns to be registered for Caesar's new head tax, or going home afterward. It would have been natural to assume that something important was going on, and they may have simply stopped at the local "city hall" (Herod's palace) to check out the local Messiah legends. The star, which they would now have been keeping to their left, would have appeared to be "where the young child was" as it rose after they entered Bethlehem, and eventually ended up overhead of everybody, including Baby Jesus (wherever he happened to be), at that latitude.

Matthew also documents the flight into Egypt and the massacre of the Holy Innocents, the Church's first canonized saints. Joseph was warned in a dream to go to Egypt to get away from Herod, and to return to the "land of Israel" only after Herod's death. The fact that he was afraid to return to Judea is considered by some commentators as indicating that Matthew places the Holy Family's home in Judea, not Galilee (directly contradicting Luke), but that's not what the text says. What it says is that Joseph was afraid to go from Egypt back to the land of Israel. Judea was the first part of the "land of Israel" anybody on a journey from Egypt to Nazareth would have encountered, because Judea is on the main road between Egypt and Nazareth. He almost certainly didn't have enough money for an expensive voyage by sea from Egypt directly to Galilee, especially for the extra accommodations required for safe passage of a young woman and toddler. Nevertheless, as usual, Joseph did as he was told and made the long and arduous journey from Egypt back to his boyhood home, no doubt taking extra care while he and his family were traveling to Galilee through the country of Judea then ruled by Herod's son, Archelaus (the brother of the "King Herod" who would eventually order the beheading of John the Baptist and return of Jesus to Pontius Pilate to be crucified).

Matthew says that after the visit in Bethlehem, the magi, "being warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed for their country by another way." Actually, there was no reason to return to Jerusalem if they were going "to their country" from Bethlehem, except out of courtesy to Herod, since he had asked them to report back to him. They might not have wanted to have any further dealings with such a ruthless and powerful tyrant (with good reason, as it turned out), but the dream gave them an excuse to get away from him by continuing their journey home by the most direct route, toward the Jordan River at the head of the Dead Sea, across the river, and then along the Silk Road north of Arabia to "the east" and, eventually, home (Iran).

This makes more sense to me than astrologers who magically divined that some never before (or since) seen star meant that the King of the Jews was being born that very night, and also, I think, explains why the magi just happened to have gold, frankincense and myrrh with them. In addition, it was the vehicle by which this anecdotal story, which appears only in Matthew, found its way into the Bible. The gifts were valuable trade commodities that traveled well and brought a high price at the market. They were almost certainly taking them back home (where they were "from") to sell! Matthew, a tax collector, naturally would have considered anything regarding expensive (untaxed) gifts worth writing about! Had the magi just been rich guys on a journey, we would never have heard about them at all; they would have had to give the Baby Jesus gifts made out of fresh, fragrant, steamy camel dung!

Incidentally, I have a goddaughter, and several friends, who were born and raised in Iran. They are still being introduced to some of the more obscure traditions of Christmas by celebrating with their Christian friends and neighbors. Given that one or more (perhaps all!) of the magi are probably their direct ancestors, these wonderful people may be the most Christmasy part of the celebration.

Matthew's narrative gives us an indication of the year Jesus was born. The "King Herod" who sought to kill him, died in 4 BC, and ordered the murder of babies two years old and younger, which puts the year of Jesus' birth not later than 4 BC, and not much earlier, since historical evidence points to a universal census being ordered around 8 BC. On the other hand, Luke says that the census was ordered when Cyrenius was governor of Syria., which didn't happen until 6 AD. Nevertheless, Herod seems to have died not long after the death of the babies he murdered.

Matthew's interjection of the story of the magi, the flight into Egypt, and the Holy Innocents, occurs in the same chronological sequence as Luke's narrative of the circumcision of Jesus and the presentation in the temple, suggesting that the Holy Family were in Jerusalem until at least 40 days after Christmas, some time after which they returned to their own town of Nazareth. This suggests that Matthew may not have known, or cared about, their stay in Jerusalem before Herod's murderous tantrum, and that Luke may have not known about that. Luke's omission is curious, but much of Luke's Gospel (including the apparition of the angel to Mary and Zachariah, her visit to Elizabeth, the circumcision and presentation) contains information that seems to have come from (perhaps second or third hand) interviews with Mary herself, who would certainly have reported the sojourn in Egypt, but maybe not the murder of the babies because she was far away (in Egypt) at the time. Given that Matthew's Gospel predates that of Luke by several decades, Luke may have simply assumed that Theophilus already knew about the writings of earlier chroniclers which from the beginning were eyewitnesses, and ministers of the word, and chose to focus on additional events (like the story of the shepherds) that he himself had discovered.

^[3] With all those people crowded into tiny Bethlehem, the news of a pregnant teenage newlywed foreigner quickly would have made the rounds of the old ladies in the village, many of whom were experienced midwives. Midwifery was so common that including the fact that Mary had the services of a midwife in the Christmas narrative would be like including the fact that she ate lunch, which is not mentioned in the gospel, either. On the other hand, Luke was a physician by trade, and when did you last hear a physician give any credit to a midwife?

^[4] The curious story of the angels and the shepherds appears only in Luke's Gospel. Luke, you will remember, was a pagan convert who carefully researched the origin and evolution of Christianity for his friend Theophilus, and compiled it in two books, the Gospel of Luke and the Acts of the Apostles. He was apparently not an eyewitness to any of the things he wrote about Jesus. The fact that the experience of the shepherds, ordinary people "taking care of business every day," was recorded in his Gospel at all indicates that it was sufficiently noteworthy for him to have heard about it in the first place, and that he felt it was important enough that his noble patron should have been informed of it.

These shepherds were "abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night," basically "taking care of business every way." They didn't even have enough money to go into town for the night; they had to stay out in the fields with the sheep. They were therefore probably the lowliest of the lowly, teenagers and younger who were apprenticed to the older boys who were in town goofing off. Luke describes the youngsters as "sore afraid," "struck with fear," or, perhaps, "terrified!" The angels immediately recognized this, because the first thing they told them was not to be afraid. The shepherds were sufficiently impressed that they immediately hurried into town (possibly to find the older boys) and found the Baby Jesus out of all the other babies that were probably born on that stress-filled night. The fact that they discussed the matter among themselves suggests that they went in shifts consisting of small groups, possibly to keep from abandoning the sheep, essentially "making business care a paradigm." They must have "made known" what they had seen and heard far and wide, because Luke managed to find out about it 90 years later, six generations (at that time) after it happened.

I think there is a profound message here, which Luke, the scholarly historian, recognized, even if modern commentators often do not. The first messengers to be chosen to receive the wondrous news of the arrival of the Savior of the World was not just a random group of poor, young, lowly peasant boys sitting around doing nothing and waiting for something to happen. These poor, young, lowly peasant boys were hard at work; "taking care of business and working overtime!"

^[5] All the bibles I have read say that Mary laid the child in a "manger" because there was no room for them in the "inn." The Latin word "diversorio" used in the Vulgate, the earliest Christian Bible, has historically been translated "inn," "lodging house," "stopping place," "public/private accommodation," or "quarters." It does not mean a bed and breakfast motel, because such things didn't exist then. Bethlehem was a rest stop for shepherds, rough rowdy folk with not much money and used to living "on the street," so the "diversorio" might well have been cheap lodging, what we might today call a "flop house," or perhaps a "bar and brothel" where the AWOL shepherd boys could get fed, drunk, laid and sleep in a real bed all in the same place. Mary might not have wanted to stay there and have her baby in a public place with unwashed crowds of curious and possibly lecherous onlookers gawking at her.

My guess is that long-suffering Joseph dutifully asked around until he found a kindly soul (possibly the midwife's husband) who was willing to rent (or perhaps donate) a private space where Mary could have her baby in private and then (possibly in another place) curl up in the warm hay of a feed loft and sleep after her ordeal, without being bothered by anybody, and with the midwife and possibly a doctor (a veterinarian) close by. It seems reasonable to assume that young Mary would have been treated kindly by the local residents, who would have chosen the best possible place to deliver the baby and would have helped to find the best place, given the crowded circumstances, where the whole family could be together.

As far as the animals are concerned, people in that area of the world often lived with their animals. Some of them still do; the Palistinian Cave Dwellers live in caves with a bed/living room, a kitchen/dining room, and a room for their animals, who are more like pets than livestock. Giving Mary a warm, dry, private place to sleep might have been the equivalent of a modern home owner offering his daughter's bedroom for the young couple. The animals might have been the Bethlehemian equivalent of friendly family pets! The traditional hospitality of Semitic peoples suggests that this is the case. There is certainly no biblical evidence that it was filthy, or even less clean than the owner's personal bedroom, and the presence of animals (if any) might have kept the place comfortably warm. Mary might well have been grateful for their company (especially if one of them was a milk goat or cow).

Matthew gives us another clue that the Holy Family were guests of local residents. When the magi visited, it was to a "house" (Vulgate: "domum"), not a stable or barn. My guess is that it was the private home where temporarily homeless Mary, Joseph and Jesus had taken up residence as guest members of the generous host family until Baby Jesus was strong enough to endure the long trek back to Nazareth. Good thing, too, because as it turned out, he had to survive the trip all the way to Egypt!

As for the "manger" (which is mentioned three times), the Vulgate word, "praesepio" can mean "manger" (a container/dispenser for hay), but it can also mean "baby bed," "crib," "brothel," "feed stall," "haunt," "lodging," or "home turf." I think it could well have been a container and dispenser of hay, with perhaps a sheepskin or blanket over it, as in the photo, which makes sense if Mary rested in a hay loft after giving birth. Such mangers were up high, so the cattle wouldn't pull out the hay and ruin it by trampling on it, so it was a safe and entirely reasonable place to put a baby, much better than, say, at the "inn" with a bunch of drunken, horny street people. On the other hand, I think Joseph gets far too little credit for his part in all this, and it wouldn't surprise me if, having diligently and responsibly found precisely the right place for his young wife to deliver, he might have searched around and found a "baby bed" or "crib" to put the Baby Jesus in. Heck, he was a craftsman (but perhaps not exactly a "carpenter" in an area of the world where there are precious few trees); he might have even made one!

^[6] Speaking of making things, it is reasonable to assume that Joseph the craftsman ("fabri," literally "maker" in the Vulgate) passed on his profession to his (foster) son, who would have made his living that way. It wouldn't have been a very lucrative profession for a woodworker, because in tiny, dry Nazareth there were few people who could afford things made out of the scarce lumber available. On the other hand, driftwood was so common along the shores of the Jordan river that boats were made out of it. We know that Jesus moved to Capernaum near the beginning of his public ministry. This seacoast town has no obvious advantages over landlocked Nazareth except that it provides a fertile opportunity for boat builders to ply their trade, ultimately bringing them into contact with people who used the boats, namely, fishermen. What were the professions of the Apostles Simon Peter, Andrew, James and John? (Hint: Matthew 4:18, 21) Spending time along the Jordan picking up driftwood would have brought him into contact with the popular, charismatic John the Baptist^[7] who may have influenced Jesus to move there and begin his own ministry in the same fashion after John was arrested.

I submit as evidence a picture of the Galilee Boat, found on the northwest shore of the Sea of Galilee, where the Apostles were known (from Matthew 4:18, 15:29, Mark 1:16, 7:31 and John 6:1) to fish. (Capernaum is near where it was found.) It has been reliably dated by two independent methods to the beginning of the Christian era, when Jesus lived there. It may be the only physical object we have that connects us personally to him; Jesus himself may have built, traveled in or repaired this very boat!

^[7] The relationship between Jesus and John the Baptist, whose feast day in the Catholic Church is June 24th, six months before the birth of Jesus, seems to be particularly susceptible to myths and legends. Scripture does not support them.

The word "cousin" is used exactly twice in the King James Bible. Elizabeth is referred to as Mary's "cousin," and "her neighbours and her cousins" are described as rejoicing with her when her baby was born. However, in neither case is there any indication whatever that the word is intended to mean first cousins. (If it does, why did Elizabeth's brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, in-laws, and cousins once and more times removed not rejoice with her?) In 44 modern English translations of the relationship, the word "cousin" is used 12 times, "relative" 26 times, "kinswoman" 5 times, and "of your family" once. The Vulgate, the official Catholic Bible, uses the term "cognata," that is, "somebody you know." The sense in all cases seems to be that of "fellow Jew," not "having the same grandparents." In addition, the difference between Mary's and Elizabeth's ages makes it unlikely that their parents were siblings. ("First cousins twice removed" is only one of many more likely possibilities.) Mary's parents are traditionally known as "Anna" and "Joachim," but these are merely convention. We don't really know who they were, or anything about them, other than that she had some, just like everybody else. Incidentally, there is no Scriptural evidence that Mary was of "the house of David" except by her marriage to Joseph.

The Koran, in which Mary is the only woman mentioned by name, suggests that Elizabeth and Zacharias raised her. This would certainly explain why young Mary was so concerned about personally helping out old Elizabeth as soon as she found out about Baby John, who would have been her foster brother (Jesus' foster uncle), but there is no Christian Scriptural evidence for this, either.

The evidence that John the Baptist was Elizabeth's baby is based on his being "John the son of Zacharias in the wilderness ... preaching the baptism of repentance for the remission of sins..." This particular John leaped in her womb when his mother was visited by pregnant Mary, and his father prophesied that he would be a "prophet of the Highest: for thou shalt go before the face of the Lord to prepare his ways." Luke's characteristic care for historical and factual accuracy supports (but, unfortunately, does not prove) the Catholic belief that John the Baptist was Elizabeth and Zacharias' son.

None of this suggests that Jesus and John knew one another other than when they met as fellow ministers of the rite of baptism. John was raised in a priestly family in hill country of Juda, a whole different country, separated by another whole different country, Samaria, from the working class family in Nazareth, Galilee, in which Jesus grew up. During his boyhood trip to Jerusalem, there is no indication whatever that Jesus' family ever visited John's. Zacharias may or may not have been present in the Temple when Jesus was, but, if so, there's no suggestion that they met or recognized each other. John himself admitted (twice) that he didn't know who Jesus was when he met him. Even afterward, when he was in prison, John sent his disciples to ask Jesus who he was. Thus, the assertion that they played together as children is, at the very best, speculative, and unwarranted, fantasy.

And not even the greatest angel, in all his glory, can say that!

John Lindorfer