Sandhurst Stable

Sandhurst Stable Having begun as a 'visual Advent calendar' located outside Sandhurst Baptist Chapel, Sandhurst Stabl

10/01/2013

POSTSCRIPT

After 37 days of coming up with a storyline, the first 25 of which required a headline on the Stable, come wind, rain, snow, frost, mist, or sunshine, the time I gave to it seems to have been subsumed into other aspects of life.

I’m conscious that the original concept of a four word headline and a short piece of tabloid-style text drifted over time. First the reports from Judea Hills took on a softer, social diary feel. As my imagination drew me into the geography and characters of the story any likeness to tabloid reporting evaporated and it became full-blown narrative. Maybe I could argue it as Sunday Supplement writing? My excuse was the original concept ceased when the news of Jesus’ birth became the unchanging message of the Stable roof!

I’m glad so many of you enjoyed it. Should you want to have a copy of the whole story, I’m willing to email it as a .pdf if you ask me at [email protected] . I’ll also be happy to receive any comments, observations or suggestions beyond what has already appeared on Fb.

My passion in the project was to connect people to the story of Jesus, building on the Advent calendar idea that seems to have become a staple of the lead-in to Christmas, and experimenting with the Facebook medium for words and pictures. Though I was pleased to have followers around the country and world, many of whom know the story quite well, I was especially thrilled when someone local and unknown to me commented. I was delighted by the number of passers-by who took the trouble to encourage me, and by frequent reports of it stimulating conversation. Most days, 60-80 people saw the entry on Facebook. I’d like to have found better ways to put the story into the hands of people using non-electronic media. Maybe next year!

Many of you are familiar with the original sources for the story in the Gospel according to Matthew and Luke in The Bible. There’s a danger in blurring the boundaries between authentic source material and imaginative addition, but there are also advantages. Please don’t take my observations as Gospel! But I really hope that there were some occasions that left you needing to check up what was Gospel and what was imagination. For me it’s been a joy to wander the crowded streets of Bethlehem, taking in the sights, sounds and smells and having to have copy ready to post every morning. It’s earthed the spare, familiar texts in a world of people, who relate together in ways not wholly unfamiliar to our own conventions of family, society and power; and who react in ways that match what I observe in the people around me. For me that has established a bridge across two millenia of intervening history, bringing me closer to the events of ‘Christmas’ than I can remember being. I’m glad some of you could cross the bridge with me.

Welcome home to the 21st century. Don’t forget the bridge stays open all year round!

Pete Evens
Pastor, Sandhurst Baptist Church

06/01/2013

THE DAY +12 MASSACRE

The door burst open on Gabby and Miriam’s leisurely breakfast.

“The baby? Where’s the baby from the manger?” a red face shouted, breathlessly.

Gabby adopted the tone he’d mastered with panicking ewes, “Easy now, young man. You’re all in a lather. Breathe now, lad. It’s alright…”

It didn’t help.

“I must find the baby. I MUST. Where is he?”

Gabby kept his voice even and quiet. “You’re too late, lad, I’m sorry…”

“Too late..? You mean…? No… no-o-o!” The boy collapsed to his knees, covered his face and sobbed, great heaving sobs. On instinct, Miriam knelt and drew him gently to herself. Gabby, at a loss to know what his words might mean to the boy, squatted too, listening to the boy’s fears.

“I knew they must have got him. Everyone in town knows now. Took no notice of us boys. But, camels and rich... They noticed them…”

He stopped. Miriam took it as a sign that the worst was over.

“Must have been them that told on him. They went back to that nasty Herod. O-o-oh! Now they’ve killed him.”

“There now,” soothed Gabby, “Nobody’s killed anybody…”

“Yes, they have. yes they have. It’s like wolves among the lambs in town. They don’t care, they don’t care, Herod’s men. Babies and toddlers, snatching them from their mothers. Listen, Gabby, listen.”

For a moment the lad stopped his sobbing. Through the open door came the sound of many voices wailing.

Gabby began to grasp the seriousness of what he was hearing. He gripped the lad’s shoulder and shook him.

“Now listen to me, young man. They didn’t get Jesus. And they won’t. No wonder they left in such a hurry. They set off as soon as you could see the outline of the hills against the eastern sky. Wouldn’t even stop to eat. I had to push some of yesterday’s bread on them. Said he’d had a dream, did Joe. ‘We’ve got to go, Gabby. Say thanks to Miriam for everything.’ ”

The boy listened, hope rising in him. “He’s alive, still, the saviour? Safe?”

“Aye, safe enough, I reckon. They’ll have covered 10 miles by now the pace he was driving that donkey. Even on a horse, they’d take some catching. And it wasn’t those rich men, whatever you may think. They got wise to that Herod. Headed east to the trade route. Never went near the palace. Don’t you go blaming them.”

A shadow filled the door.

“Hey, shepherd, where’s the baby?”

“There’s no baby here, sir.”

“Don’t try it on, old man. No-one lies to The King’s Guards and lives to tell. It’s all over town. The star-gazers came here to find a baby born in your shed. Now will you show me the way? Or will I take your pretty little house apart around your wife and snivelling son?”

Shepherds are not easily scared by bears, especially when there are lambs to protect. Gabby’s patient tone held firm.

“You are of course welcome to dismantle my home, but you might save yourself a lot of energy. I have nothing to hide. I do not deny that we entertained unexpected visitors from the east. Nor that they sought the baby that you speak of, born, as you so rightly state, in my stable, amid the chaos of the Census. They gave me to understand that it was scholars from the Royal Palace that you serve, that sent them here, with the blessing of your king, based on some obscure reading of Hebrew scripture. Had they got here but hours sooner, they would have found the child here with us. Alas, his parents were keen to return to their home country. I feel sure that the eastern gentlemen will report to your king as soon as they have located the baby. Now may I guide you around my home to set your mind at rest?”

Miriam was glad she’d set to and moved themselves back into their own room. She figured that it would take someone brighter than this soldier to rumble her husband’s deception.

“Which way did they go?” barked the soldier.

“The baby and his parents, or the distinguished astrologers?” responded Gabby mildly.

“Both, and. One followed the other, right?” The shepherd sensed he’d captured his bear’s attention, giving his lamb time.

“The father mentioned they had come from Nazareth, in Galilee. For the sake of the child, I advised them to take the direct route home, though many of our fellow Jews prefer the more scenic route to avoid Samaritan territory. Our eastern friends felt picking up the seaward trade route would better suit their purpose of speed, given the size of their company. Now you were wanting to look around, I think. Allow me…”

“Where’s the kid?” growled a voice from the yard. The soldier spun round on his heel.

“Legged it sir! To Galilee. Samaria road. Star-gazers heading east and north, sir.”

“Well don’t stand there chattering, get onto it. Send a company in pursuit. They can march to Galilee by sunset. The King’s Guard has a job to do and will not rest till it’s done. March.”

“Yessir.” The soldier snapped to attention, saluted and departed.

Gabby shut the door behind him and leant against it.

“If that bear ever comes back, he’ll have a sore head,” he laughed. “And I’ll be dead meat.”

His younger friend couldn’t see the funny side.

“ ‘Glad tidings’ they told us,” he muttered bitterly, relief giving way to rising anger. “ ‘Great joy, for all people’. We told everyone the good news, Gabby.

The older man had no answer.

“What do I tell my sister, now? Eh?” went on the lad. “Now she has no baby? That the ‘saviour’ is safe? Do you think she’ll be ‘glad’ to hear that, while she’s burying her child?”

He stormed for the door. Gabby found words,

“He’ll grow up. He’ll be back. To deliver us from this tyranny.”

The lad turned, “How long must we wait? It was today we needed a saviour.”

He was gone.

Gabby sank to his chair overwhelmed. Once again his mind framed the question.

“Who is this child?”

05/01/2013

THE DAY +11 GIFTS MOST RARE

Breakfast was rather rushed. Exotic aromas drifted into the parlour. Miriam kept one eye on the window. She didn’t want strangers in her home till she was ready. She shooed the men out to “see what was happening.” She looked with approval at how Mary was turned out this morning and noted that Jesus had been freshly swaddled. She didn’t say much, this girl, but she missed nothing.

“What do you think about the menora, my dear?” she ventured as she spread a fresh white cloth on the table, “Wrong season, but it seems somehow… fitting… Do you feel that?” She hoped that Mary wouldn’t ask her to explain why she imagined the candelabra of Passover should be displayed.

Mary beamed. She nodded. “I see you understand,” she replied. Miriam went to argue, but thought better of it. She felt carried along on a wave of events whose meaning she could not fathom, but which were overwhelming her, irresistably turning her life upside down. Yet for all that, the best thing that had ever happened to her.

Gabby set out with Joe towards the tent pitched at the far end of his cowfield. He saw now that the camels sat head to tail in circles, each enclosing a bunch of men squatting around a kind of brazier. The smell of spices was eye-watering. The presence of strangers distracted the dogs from waiting for their men to finish chewing and throw them the bones. They growled, low and long, but held their ground. The men waved and called out in a language Gabby and Joe didn’t recognise. One lad cradled his arms and rocked from side to side in a gesture beyond language. “Baby?” called another in passable Hebrew.

Joe nodded, hoping that was a positive signal in their culture. The ritual was repeated across the field until they got to the opening of the tent. The guardsman, bowed low before them. “Father?” he asked with a thick accent. Gabby pointed to Joe. It was beyond Joe to explain to a foreigner the subtleties of the situation. He nodded tentatively. “My masters expect you!” He bowed again, drew back the curtain, and made an indecipherable announcement. Even in his sabbath best, Gabby felt under-dressed in the lavish interior. Their hosts rose as one man, each dressed in a flowing robe of startling hue. Their eyes went from Gabby to Joe and back again. Neither of them looked likely to be father of a king. They gestured to be seated.

“Unto you is born a son?” they quizzed in the faultless, if archaic, Hebrew of the Prophets. Gabby again pointed to Joe. Before their piercing eyes, Joe knew that half-truth would no longer suffice. His head gave a positive acknowledgement, while his mouth took the risk of speaking plainly in his native Galilean Hebrew. “It is my honour to be the husband of his remarkable mother and a father to her child...” he began. He spoke slowly and clearly, but his words bounced back uncomprehended. With a single clap, a servant was summoned. With three words he was despatched. They waited.

Joe glanced at Gabby, knowing that he at least had understood. He wondered what the old man made of his revelation. The shepherd gave no clue.

Another man entered, bowed to the visitors and then their hosts, who spoke briefly. He turned back to Joe,

“Though fluent in reading your scriptures, my companions ask your indulgence for the weakness of their ears in detecting the harmonies of your speaking. Repeat, if you please, to me what it is your wishes to speak. I will grasp your wishes perfectly and tell the beautiful words of you towards the eager ears of these wise ones.”

Joe repeated himself to the interpreter, who relayed the meaning. There was much nodding, before their dark eyes settled on him again, drawing the truth from him.

“I am not the boy’s natural father. The nature of his conception remains a mystery to me.” He paused for the interpreter. “My wife, though a mother, is a virgin.”

He had no idea how his words would be received. The archaic Hebrew resurfaced. “Son of the Dav-id,” said one. “Son of the God,” another. “A signal, the virgin, she will conceive,” said a third. They arose together,

“This child…” said one,
“…we seek…” another,
“…to honour with gifts… said a third.
“I bring pure gold,” said the first.
“I bring finest frankincense,” the second.
“I offer the myrrh of mourning,” the third.

“Come,” said Joe. “My wife and child are waiting for you.”

04/01/2013

THE DAY +10 CAMELS IN COWFIELD

Gabby the elderly shepherd woke with a start, suddenly alert.
“What is it, dear?” murmured his wife Miriam.
“A camel. I heard a camel sneeze.”
“You’ve been dreaming, dear. Just the baby. Whatever would camels be doing in Bethlehem? Go back to sleep.” She pulled the covers up and followed her own advice.

Gabby knew what he’d heard. Long nights on the hillside had trained his ear to wake him from slumber when something was out of place. Many a time it had saved the flock from predators. He slipped silently from his bed and pushed open the shutter. No, his ears had not lied to him. By the starlight he began to count the humpy outlines. He'd got to 23 when the moon emerged from a cloud, glistening off the skins of a low, wide tent. He stood watching, tense, alert. There was no human movement. He sensed no danger. All his stock were out on the hills, watched by the boys. There was precious little to steal round the homestead. He considered what was to be gained by barging into the camp in the dead of night. No, Miriam had the right idea. He’d wait till dawn.

He lay down, his mind racing. Perhaps his ears were failing. How did such a company set up camp so near, so silently? Where had they come from? What did they want? He dozed. He heard Jesus crying. Mary’s feet crossed the floor. She was singing softly, that song, now so familiar to him, “…and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called wonderful counsellor…” An odd song for a lullaby. One of the prophets, surely. She sang it like it was meant specially for her son. High ideals for a baby born in a shed. What was it the boys had said about angels singing? How excited they were. “It’s a sign,” they said, laughing with delight to find a baby wrapped up, lying in a manger. “The saviour,” they shouted.

Now there were, what? forty men maybe? arriving unannounced in the darkness, camping in the cowfield. Somehow, he couldn’t imagine how, they knew he was here, this baby that angels sing about. Who is this, under my roof?

He slept then. A deep sleep. He slept through the dawn. He slept through Jesus crying for his morning feed. He slept through Miriam’s rising. He slept until Miriam shook him, urgently.

“Gabby! Gabby! there’s camels in the cowfield.”
“Yes, dear.”
“Thirty-eight of them.”
“Yes, dear.”
“And three Arab stallions, snowy white.”
He opened his eyes. “They hid them well.”
“What does it mean, Gabby?”
“It means,” said Gabby, without hesitation, “that our baby guest will be receiving a high-ranking delegation, men whose accumulated wisdom has enabled them to pinpoint the exact whereabouts of the one that they seek. They know who this child is, why he has come and have not been diverted from their goal by the modest appearance of this home, which has had the honour of sheltering him.”

“Oh. Right.” This was more than she expected from her waking husband. It wasn’t like him to talk so. She stood uncertainly, trying to make sense of his words.
“You were right, then. About the camel,” she ventured.
“Yes,dear.”
“I’ll lay your sabbath clothes out for you.”
“Yes, dear. Thank you, dear.”

03/01/2013

THE DAY +9 STAR QUEST NEARS END

Asian Astronomical Quarterly
Report from Jerusalem by the peripatetic star-gazers.

The wonder star slowed significantly as it reached the Roman Province of Judea, in line with our previous predictions that the star portends a new King of the Jews. Before we left the open skies of the Arabian desert, our final triangulation of the star’s position showed it almost directly over Jerusalem. Accordingly, we descended into the god-forsaken wastelands of the southern rift valley, skirting it’s sulphurous sea, crossing the Jordan River to Jericho and taking a treacherous road upwards to the citadel.

We presented our credentials at the palace of Herod. Appointed ‘King of the Jews’ by the Roman Emperor, this Herod has done much to enhance the autonomy of Judea to the benefit of his adoptive people. His Guard Captain took extraordinary security measures against us, as if we posed some kind of threat. King Herod, by contrast could not have been more accommodating. He welcomed us with due deference to our status and scholarship, engaging in lively and intelligent debate regarding the nature of our quest. He was much interested to hear details of the star’s first appearance and enthusiastic about our predictive hypothesis of a new King of the Jews, happily discussing the question of succession. The unfortunate deaths of several of his family have given him a most unfortunate reputation for ruthlessness, quite contrary to the warm cordiality displayed to us.

Only when King Herod revealed that no baby had been born, nor was predicted in his family did the conversation become tense. He quickly made light of our embarrassment at seeming to intimate the shift of power away from his own dynasty. Summoning his scholars, he challenged them to solve our paradox and was much delighted when they dug up an obscure little writing by a Hebrew prophet named Micah. This provided the key to our dilemma. Messiah would be born in Ephrathah. Now known as Bethlehem, this village has exciting associations with David, second king of Israel. We fully expect the king we seek to be a Davidite and to restore the political fortunes of this once-proud nation, building on what Herod has achieved.

With this fresh information, we double-checked our final triangulation data. Factoring in a compensation coefficient for the extreme topography, it became clear that the star was a few miles further west than we had calculated. This placed it right over the town identified.

Wanting to take full advantage of the dwindling light, we reluctantly passed up Herod’s generous offer of hospitality. He fully understood our enthusiasm and insisted his offer remained open whenever our quest allowed us to return After long months of travel we would eagerly anticipate luxuriating in his courts.

Now certain that our quest was nearly at an end, we set out, confident of finding the child of our predictions. Unfortunately Herod’s regal commitments prevented him joining us on this final exciting leg of our journey. It would only be a matter of days before we returned, bringing him word of his successor’s identity and location, allowing him the freedom to honour him…

02/01/2013

THE DAY +8

Palace of His Majesty Herod, King of the Jews, Jerusalem.
Captain’s Log, Year of Augustus, First Citizen of Rome, ###III. Census Day plus XI.

Hr IV Qtr II Report from Duty Sergeant of large contingent of foreigners at Main Gate, requesting immediate audience with King. Request denied, pending further orders. State of Preparedness raised to Red (Immediate Threat). All rest cancelled forthwith. Manpower doubled at Inner Gate, closed and barred, external sentries posted. Proceeded to Outer Gate with a strong detachment.

Hr VI Qtr III.
Received Duty Sergeant’s briefing. III main spokesmen; armed for personal defence only; dressed royally; powerful but courteous; origins beyond eastern border of Empire, consistent with cabal of ‘star-gazers’, recently entering Province from Syrian desert; Greek fluent, Latin poor; requesting audience with King of the Jews; estimated company of XL men and beasts causing congestion and disturbance around Palace Gate. Officer and X men sent to restore public order. Interviewed spokesmen. Satisfied of their peacable intent. Ordered disarmament of their company, prior to admittance to the Outer Court, pending King’s Orders. Company VI deployed around perimeter of Outer Court, with orders to quell any trouble with due force. Requested immediate personal audience with HMK.

Hr V Qtr IV
HMK: “Well, Captain, you’d better make this good, troubling me so early.”
Captain of Guard: “I beg Your Majesty’s indulgence. An unforeseen situation has presented itself... "
HMK: “Have you not the wit to deal with it?”
CoG: “I believe the King's attention may secure an outcome more favourable than I can achieve on Your Majesty's behalf, sire. Certain royal gentlemen have requested an audience with yourself, sire, concerning the star.”
HMK: “What do they think I am? A star-gazer like themselves? We have an Empire to run here, you know. I hope you sent them packing with a flea in their ear, eh?”
CoG: “I fear not, my Lord. I have asked them to await your pleasure in the outer court.”
HMK: “What? Have you taken leave of your senses? I remind you that my security is your first priority. I’ll have you whipped for compromising that! Now, get out and tell them to get out. Star-gazers, in my Palace?”
CoG: “I assure you, sire, that your personal security has remained utmost in my mind and actions. If you will permit me, sire, the gentlemen in question appear to be engaged on an errand of great personal interest to you, sire.”
HMK: “I tell you, Captain, I have absolutely NO interest in their fanciful speculations about stars. Get rid of them.”
CoG: “It is not the star itself that is the main purpose of their visit to you, sire. They say they’ve come to honour the King of the Jews…”
HMK: “Well, they’ve come to the right place for that! I am gratified that my fame has spread beyond the eastern fringes of Empire. But do you think I have time to greet every casual passerby who wishes to honour me.”
CoG: “No, indeed. sire. It’s just that these gentlemen indicated their inention to direct their honour to someone other than yourself, sire, the gods forbid. I thought you may wish…”
HMK: “NO-ONE ELSE has ANY claim to be KING of the JEWS. That is MINE alone, do you hear?”
CoG: “Indeed I do, sire. Of that I am keenly aware. May you live long and prosper, Your Majesty. I was venturing to suggest, sire, that you may wish to take steps to secure your position against any possible usurper, sire. You may find these gentlemen, er, useful, sire. Should they have further information, they may readily divulge it to yourself, sire, thereby avoiding any diplomatic unpleasantness, should it become necessary for my officers to procure it from them more, er, directly, sire…”
HMK: “You think they know who this usurper is, Captain? Someone other than my useless son?”
CoG: “I think they have yet to secure specific identification, sire, but that is certainly their goal. They appear rather single-minded in pursuing it, sire, and have the resources at their disposal…”
HMK: “Go on, Captain. Your line of thought intrigues me.”
CoG: “Thank you, sire. If I have understood them correctly, sire, they are expecting the star to lead them to the King of the Jews and have assumed, naturally, that they would find the, er, baby here in the seat of power, sire."
HMK: “BABY? What has that son of mine been up to? Baby? Don’t stand there gawping, Captain. I’d like to hear their story.”
CoG: “Indeed, sire. I will see to it immediately. Thank you, sire. Long live the King!"

Hr VI Qtr II
Ascertained order maintained in Outer Court. Inner Gate secured according to Red protocol. Informed III spokesmen of King’s pleasure. Escorted them to King’s chamber.

01/01/2013

THE DAY +7

Bethlehem

Making their way back from Jerusalem, Mary and Joe are too pre-occupied for conversation. Mary is looking back, going over the words spoken to them by Simeon and Anna, wondering. Joe’s mind is taken up with where they will live. The lambing shed was truly a God-send for the birth of Jesus, but less than ideal for daily life. They must think about going home. But where is home exactly? Nazareth? They’re outcasts among their own. Judea Hills? Can they impose any more? Jesus would probably make it that far. He’s travelled well to Jerusalem It’d be natural to stay a couple of nights. But Mary needs rest first.

With Enrolment over, it’s possible to walk through Bethlehem in a straight line. Everywhere people are cleaning up: beating carpets, sweeping cobbles, shovelling dung, washing clothes, airing bedding. A few inns display vacancy notices. Joe is not keen to offer his custom. He may have to.

His eyebrow rises into a question mark. Mary shakes her head, “No, Joe. Not yet.” He nods.

He never thought marriage would start like this. He wants better for her. Yet he admires for making the best of it. She’s so cheerful, thankful. She takes what is common and gives it value. She sees God where he never thought God would be. These nine months have not been easy. The harder it’s been the more she’s shone. He feels like he knows her better than anyone else on earth. She’s made him… better.

He stops and looks at her. She holds his gaze. He searches for words,

“If I’d known you, back then, it’d’ve saved that angel a job.”

She gets his meaning.

“It would have taken more than an angel to persuade most men to take on me and this baby. Joe, I’m glad he chose you, too. I couldn’t do it without you.”

They walked slowly on through the town and out to the lambing shed. Joe hitched the donkey. He lifted the latch to get some hay. He sensed something was wrong. He je**ed open the door. Two pairs of brown eyes turned from the manger; two jaws moved from side to side. Content with his presence, they went back to pulling hay from the rack.

Behind him, Joe heard the voice of their host. Anger stirred within him. He trusted him. How could he betray them? He could’ve said, before he threw them out. How is Mary going to take this? Keep calm, Joe, keep calm.

“Glad to see you back again, my dear,” the voice was saying. “Baby travel well?” Joe marvelled that anyone could be so two-faced. He heard his wife answer, pleasantly. He made sure his frame filled the door so she couldn’t see cows where their bed should be.

“I hope you won’t mind…” Gabby went on. Joe spun around,

“Mind!” He realised he was shouting. He swallowed, tried again. “Mind?” The word erupted from his lips.

“Ah, Joe,” ventured the old shepherd, mildly. “We thought our folks would never leave. They went while you were away. So…, we moved you…”

“Moved… us. Moved?” Joe’s mind was racing with the options, pushing back his anger. “You… moved… us…?”

“Yes, well, it seemed best, you see,” Gabby stuttered. “We thought you wouldn’t mind. It will be so much better. With the baby and all.” This wasn’t going how he’d planned. He paused, took a deep breath, licked his lips, straightened himself as much as he was able, and cleared his throat, self-consciously.

“Dear Mary, Joseph, Jesus.” He bowed to each. “My wife and I will be honoured if you will accept the humble hospitality of our home. Not wishing to presume, but we’ve, erm, taken the liberty of moving your few possessions...

We’ve put you in our room”

31/12/2012

THE DAY +6 “LET ME DIE, NOW”

…The carpenter raised his stout staff, ready to strike out to protect his wife and baby. He found himself threatening the crinkled face of an old man, smiling up at him. Warm words matched the tenderness with which he held the infant.

“Dear, dear. Forgive me, sir. Didn’t mean to startle you. Got carried away in my enthusiasm. Simeon’s the name, sir, madam, my Lord.” His eyes lingered on the baby. The carpenter let his staff fall, but stayed wary.

“All my life I’ve been longing to meet your son,” he gushed at Mary. “Many times I’ve wondered if this day would ever come. I’ve had to trust the Spirit of God, bless his name! He told me I’d live to see The Coming One. Now I have! Glory to God! It was the Spirit who brought me here at just the right time to meet you! Bless God! I knew it was him, the moment I set eyes on you. This is The One who will save everyone, everywhere. Oh yes, he’ll bring light to all the nations and glorious light to the nation of Israel! God bless you, sir! And you, my dear lady. You’re in for a bumpy ride, I’m afraid. More than a few won’t like what this young man has to say. Oh no! Show them up for who they really are, he will! He’ll shake up the whole social order as we know it. Turn the hierarchy on its head. Break your heart it will, my dear. Well you didn’t get this far without the Spirit. He’ll see you through, like he has me. Praise Him!”

The Precinct was hushed, straining to hear Simeon’s words. Maybe they’d been wrong to condemn this child, if someone so respected should speak such glowing words of him.

Simeon made to give the baby back, then thought better of it. He raised his eyes heavenwards,
“Thank you Lord, I’m happy now to come home to you, any time you please.” He danced a little jig before reluctantly handing over the source of his joy.

Joe and Mary hardly knew how to respond. They mumbled their thanks. Simeon beamed at them. Everyone in the Precinct seemed to be smiling. From the doorway ahead, a woman’s voice broke out,
“Thank you, Lord, thank you! Look no further, my friends, the one who will set us free from slavery is right here with us! Give thanks with me!”

Joe and Mary moved towards her. Her arms enveloped them. She cooed over the baby. She led them on into the courts for his Naming. “It’s going to be Jesus, isn’t it?” she asked, not waiting for their answer.

30/12/2012

THE DAY +5 STABLE BABY NAMING

Jerusalem

It would be unusual for a Nazarene to be Named in The Temple. The journey south is too long for an eight-day old baby. But among the cosmopolitan accents of Jerusalem, it wasn’t the Galilean brogue that marked out this couple.

It was the absence of family. Naming days provide an excellent excuse for excess, at the parents’ expense. In these days of Census, families have made the most of it, reaping the bonus of having to rub shoulders with normally distant cousins.

A couple bringing their son to The Temple for his Naming, without a family to impress, usually has something to hide. Many metropolitan priests tend to be more liberal than their provincial colleagues, more accepting that life is not always how it should be. They tread a fine line to avoid the wrath of the Religious Right, in their repressive quest for moral purity.

The moment the Nazarene family entered the Precincts, their baby was marked as ‘illegitimate.’ The couple seemed to sense the enmity. They looked ill-at-ease.

With good reason. The whispering spread like a flame through hay.
“Remember all that ‘angel’ business?”
“That was a girl from Nazareth, wasn’t it?”
“Nine months since, I’d say.”
“He looks like a carpenter, doesn’t he?”
“She’s the so-called ‘virgin mother’.”
“They think they can creep in here and hide among the crowd.”
“Born in Bethlehem, you say?”
“That would tally. They said he was a Davidite.”
“Desecrating The Temple, I call it.”
“How can such people claim their part of The Covenant?”
“They don’t belong here.”
“Disgraceful, that’s what it is.”
“Shouldn’t be allowed.”
“It didn’t used to be like this.”

The couple quickened their pace, beginning to wonder whether the synagogue in Bethlehem might have been better, after all, in spite of family hostility. Glancing nervously over her shoulder, the mother felt strong arms, snatching her child.

“No-o-o-o!” she shrieked…

Address

Sandhurst
GU479BH

Website

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Sandhurst Stable posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Shortcuts

Share