Tuesday, June 16, 2020

The Nativity

Fouard's Life of Christ continues with the Nativity.

Luke ii. 4-7

Nazareth to Bethlehem.    

So then, to inscribe himself in the Public Registers, the carpenter of Nazareth quit his native hills of Zabulon.  His young wife too, made the journey with him.  Everything drew her to Bethlehem; a secret inspiration from Heaven as well as her affection for Joseph.  Perhaps, too, there was some obligation for her appearance in person at the enrolling, as being the heiress of her family.

Four days of foot-travel separates Nazareth from the city of David.  Mary, as a time was so near, made the distance very slowly, for winter makes the roads rough, and the holy Family journeyed on foot, doubtless, like other poor pilgrims.  Leaving behind them the plain of Esdrelon, En-Gannim, Sichem and Sion, about two hours from the last-named town they perceived at length the dwellings of Bethlehem.

This village is located upon along and whitish hill, whose slopes, covered with fines, olive, and fig trees, forms a circle of terraces, rising one above another in regular curves, like steps in a stairway of verdure.  On the summit rests today a heavy pile of sombre building; it is the Church of the Nativity, which screens the holy Grotto, and round about it are the three convents built by the Latins, the Greeks, and the Armenians.  From these heights, at a glance of the eye, we can describe, far below us, the fertile valleys, but the ancient demesne of Boaz and of Jesse, the far-away pastures, where, protecting their herds from the mountain lions, there had grown up that intrepid race of shepherds, which once supplied Israel with the noblest of her captains.

No room. J-J Tissot
As they entered Bethlehem they would first encounter the hostelry, of which the Khan of modern Oriental villages is still a fair copy, a huge square enclosed by porticoes; here, under the shelter of some rude galleries, the ground being raised a foot or two above the level, travellers are spreading out their mats upon the narrow platform, while all about them beasts of burden block up the courtyard; such was the aspect of the place before which Joseph and Mary presented themselves.
The concourse of strangers in those busy days of the registration, the poverty of these latecomers, the very condition of Mary, all promised the humble pair a cold welcome.  So it happened that they received a reply, "that there was no room for them;" and despite their fatigue they must needs seek elsewhere for some resting-place.  The chalk-hills of Judea are hone-combed with innumerable caves.  One of these excavations, close by the inn, was used as a shelter for such beasts as the public stables were unable to accommodate.  Mary, according to the testimony of Tradition, could find no other refuge but this.  And there, amid the straw which served as bedding for the beasts, far from all assistance, on a cold winter's night, the hour came for her to be delivered, and she brought forth unto the world, Jesus.

The object of assault for nineteen centuries, this humble Birth, the adoration of some, to others has seemed but a folly and a libel.

"Preserve me from it all!" Cried the impious Marcion (2nd century heretic) in the very first centuries.  "Away with these pitiful swaddling-bands and this manger, unworthy of the God whom I adore."

In vain did Tertullian reply, "Nothing is more worthy of God than that, in order to save man, he should trample underfoot our perishable grandeur, and so adjudge these joys unworthy of Himself and His." In vain have all our Doctors who have followed him made manifest to us the High Counsel, so full of wisdom and merciful compassion, which moved the Word Incarnate to this Self-abasement; the God that was born of a woman and laid in a manger has offended the haughty spirit of man, and Marcion’s cry is repeated still from century to century.

Without going as far as this in their impatient scorn, the Christians of the same era sought to dignify the humility of their God by fanciful prodigies.  They would have us believe that the glory, which Jesus rejected, enveloped His cradle; that Mary, upon her entrance into the sombre grotto, filled it with a noontide radiance; that the Angels, in robes of splendour, hung over them in trailing legions; that the stars retarded their own motions to contemplate the Birth of God, to shed upon Him their gentle rays; that the manger itself was resplendent with a great lustre, and that all eyes were veiled, unable to sustain the gorgeous glare.

Very different from this is the simple story of the Gospel; here there is no outward pomp; all the Glory of the crib lies in its initiate and loveliness.  It is only the soul that is illumined by it; it is to the heart alone it speaks.  Furthermore, we must not forget that here, by anything we add to the Majesty of the Christ,  we detract just so much from His Love.  The Word, in order to save us, has not disdained the womb of a Virgin; why, then, should we blush at the loneliness of our God?  These are more profound it appears the more it forces us to love Him.

Nevertheless, though Mary knew all the natural cares of motherhood, she was yet unacquainted with all those evils which are the penalty of sin, the sorrows and the heavy heartedness into which all daughters of Adam must fall.  We should not even say that her Motherhood was like that of Eve, in the age of innocence; for as she was a greater than the Eve so hers was the unparalleled happiness of preserving her Virgin purity in bearing the Divine Child.  When Jesus was born, it was as when the ripe fruit is parted from the branch that bore it, so cheerful, so comfortable, and attended with all joys was the coming of the Christ-Child into the of world.

The Nativity. J-J Tissot
So Saint Luke shows us this Virgin Mother, immediately upon her deliverance, lavishing upon her Holy Infant the cares ordinarily left to strangers; she envelopes Him in swaddling-bands and lays Him to rest amid the straw of the manger.  "She must cloak the New Adam from the cold winter air; reverence, too, bade her clothe the Babe, as well as did necessity.  Cover Him, Mary; cover that tender Baby body; shield Him in thy maiden bosom!  Dost understand thy Motherhood?  Hast thou not any perturbation at beholding this thine infant One?  Hast thou no fear to bare unto Him thy maternal breasts?  For what Child is this, Who reaches up His divine hands?  Adore Him even whilst thou dost nourish Him, while the Angels summon new hosts of invisible worshippers."

Totus tuus ego sum 
Et omnia mea tua sunt;
Tecum semper tutus sum:
Ad Jesum per Mariam 


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