SHEPHERD
We were watching our flocks
up in the hills.
The night was mild
and the sky was bright with stars.
I remember we were talking
about the census
and the crowd of strangers
it had brought to town.
Suddenly
there was a blaze of light—
like nothing we had ever seen before.
Then we saw the angel
standing in the midst of it!
I thought the end had come
and God would judge me
for my sins.
The angel spoke
in a voice of gentleness and power:
"Don't be afraid!
I am here with good news for you,
which will bring great joy
to all the people.
This very day in David's town
your Saviour was born—
Christ the Lord!"
There was more—
things I didn't understand—
about strips of cloth
and a baby in a manger.
And there was music.
Not the thin sound
of a shepherd's flute
but the glorious thunder
of a heavenly choir
as a great army
of heaven's angels
sang praises to God:
"Glory to God
in the highest heaven,
and peace on earth
to those with whom
God is pleased!"
As suddenly as the first angel
had appeared
the great choir was gone
and we were alone
with the sheep
and the twinkling stars.
We looked at one another
in wonder.
Had it all been a dream?
Or was this truly
the night of our salvation?
"Let's go to Bethlehem"
I said at last.
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JOSEPH
I don't think I'll ever understand
what has happened to me
during these past months.
Young and carefree, I was,
looking forward to marriage
with Mary, my betrothed.
And then she told me
she was pregnant!
My world came tumbling
around my ears
for the shame of it
and the bitter disappointment.
She had some crazy tale
about the Holy Spirit!
Did she think
I was born yesterday?
Better she had told the truth...
But I am an honourable man,
not wanting to disgrace her publicly.
While I was thinking,
wondering what to do
an angel came to me
in a dream
and assured me that Mary
spoke the truth!
The son she would bear
would be named Jesus
and he would save his people
from their sins.
So we were married
and awaited the birth
with eagerness and awe...
The time was close
when the census was called.
Bethlehem was the place
of my ancestors,
and there we must go.
I prayed that the baby would wait
until we reached the town...
and then, until we found a place...
"No room" was the answer
wherever we went—
no room—and time running out.
And then a stable
a humble place
but warm and dry,
the child's first cries
waking the birds in the eaves.
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INNKEEPER
You can't blame me—
though many have.
Times were hard
and the census seemed heaven-sent:
a chance to recoup losses
and lay something by
for the future.
Sure I felt sorry for them—
an anxious Galilean
and his child-bride
heavily pregnant.
But what could I do?
The inn was full;
guests who had paid
were not about
to give up their rooms
to the likes of them.
I did what I could.
There was the stable
take it or leave it.
They took it grateful
even for a patch of straw.
How was I to know
that history would be made
in that unlikely outhouse?
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MARY
My heart praises the Lord.
My soul is glad
because God has remembered me
his lowly servant!
It was strange
how I had no doubts
after the angel's visit.
God had chosen me
to bear his son.
Poor Joseph!
Angry at first
then puzzled
then sharing my wonder
if not my confidence...
I remember little
of the journey to Bethlehem.
Just as well—
what I do remember is painful
with the jolting of each slow step
on the dusty road.
I remember Joseph's desperation
as he went from door to door
and always the same answer:
"No room!
Don't you know
there's a census?"
The warmth of the stable
welcomed us,
offered rest at last.
Thus Jesus was born
and I looked in wonder
at God's own son
feeding at my breast...
A shadow fell
across the doorway
and shepherds came
to gaze in awe
and tell their story
of angel songs.
Having grown used to angels
I did not doubt them.
They left,
singing praise to God
for all they had heard and seen.
And I remembered everything
and pondered deeply...
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