If he were to be the bearer of such good tidings, he had best press on and say no more about it here. “No doubt you were dreaming,” he said in a disparaging manner calculated to make the men doubt the value of what they had seen, if indeed it had any value. “Your dream has led you on a fool’s errand. The Savior of Israel would hardly be born without notice.” And kicking his mount, Elam directed it once again along the road.
Jonas did not follow at once, but beckoned the shepherds to come nearer. “Did this voice say how you would know the Christ?” he asked in lowered tones.
The tall shepherd nodded. “The angel said, ‘And this shall be a sign to you: You shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.’”
A great light burst in Jonas’s brain, almost as bright as had been the star last night. But first, he knew, he must make sure the shepherds did not intend to harm the babe.
“Why do you seek the child?” he asked them.
“We would worship Him, for when the angels finished speaking there was a multitude of the heavenly hosts praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men!’”
“Are you sure the voice said the child would be found in a manger?”
The tall shepherd looked at him keenly. “Why do you ask? What do you know of this?” he demanded.
“A child was born in Bethlehem last night, in the stable of an inn where we stayed,” Jonas explained. “I myself gave it the swaddling cloth. There was no cradle, so the baby was placed in the manger.”
“That is just as the angel described it!” the tall shepherd said excitedly. “You say you gave it the first gift?”
Jonas nodded proudly. “A swaddling cloth of finest wool, woven with my own hands!”
“Then you are more honored than we can ever be,” the shepherd told him. “But if we hurry, we will be able to worship Him too!”
“Hurry, Jonas!” Elam’s querulous voice floated back along the road. “I must sell the goods early, so I can make my gift to the temple today!”
Jonas left the shepherds and followed his master, but he no longer noticed the pain from his flayed back. Nothing Elam could do would be able to hurt him now. For by some strange miracle which he did not even try to understand, he had been singled out for a great honor, for a privilege greater than had been given any man—that of making the first gift to the Son of God.
Chapter 3
Now when the days of her purification according to the law of Moses were completed, they brought Him to Jerusalem to present Him to the Lord.
Luke 2:22
Before leaving Nazareth for Bethlehem to list himself and Mary with the Roman census takers, Joseph had decided he would remain in the City of David for a while to see if there were not a better market there than in Galilee for fine cabinet work. So leaving Mary and the baby in the stable of the inn, early that morning he went to seek a dwelling place for them.
Some notice had been attracted by the arrival of the shepherds, for when they found Mary and the child still in the stable, they spread the story that they had recounted to Elam and Jonas. A few who heard it marveled, but they could see that the child and the mother seemed no different from anyone else, except, perhaps, in the beauty of both. The husband, too, was obviously an ordinary man, for he spoke of setting up a carpenter’s shop in Bethlehem to ply his trade as he had in Galilee. Many therefore thought the shepherds’ tale nothing more than a dream.
Before nightfall Joseph was able to find a house which, though small, would serve to shelter his family. Since both he and Mary were of the line of David, they had kinsfolk in the city and so experienced little trouble in establishing themselves, Joseph taking up his usual trade of carpenter, cabinetmaker, and builder.
It was written in the Law of the Lord that every firstborn male child should be called holy to the Most High and accordingly must be redeemed from a priest for a token price. The earliest time this could be accomplished under the Law of Moses was thirty-one days after the birth of the child. A second provision called for the rite of purification of the mother after childbirth, but this could not be carried out until after the full course of forty-one days following the birth of a son, eighty-one days after the birth of a daughter.
When the required days of Mary’s purification according to the Law had passed, Joseph took her and the child to Jerusalem to celebrate in the temple the twofold rite, redemption of the child and a sacrifice of purification for the mother. Both ceremonies could have been performed before the chazan or leader of the congregation, at the Bethlehem synagogue, but since they were only a short distance away and were both of the royal line, and devout besides, they naturally went to the fountainhead of their faith, the great temple recently built by Herod the king.
Approaching Jerusalem by the Hebron road which just outside the city joined that from the seaport of Joppa, they passed almost under the walls of the citadel of Herod looming as a grim and forbidding reminder that Rome ruled here. Its three towers, called Hippicus, Phasael, and Mariamne, the last after Herod’s beautiful wife whom he had murdered in a fit of jealousy, enabled observers to watch practically all activities going on in the city.
Entering by the Gennath Gate, they found themselves in the Upper City. Here was the timber market where beams were sold for supporting the flat rooftops of houses, a market for wool and cloth, such as Elam and Jonas had brought to Jerusalem, and foundries for smelting and shaping implements and utensils of copper.
From the stronghold of Herod in the northeast corner of the wall, the northern limit of the Upper City, where many of the richer people of Jerusalem lived, was marked by a wall running eastward to the western boundary of the large sanctuary area. North of this a suburb had grown up, spilling outside the city wall and spreading across the hilltops and past the skull-like outcropping of rock called Golgotha to the four-square tower of Antonia built by Herod at the very corner of the sanctuary.
Whatever evil Herod had done—and his faults were many—he had at least in its temple, under construction now for many years and still not complete, given Israel one of the most beautiful structures in the entire world. Space for it in the midst of the broad area of the sanctuary, encompassing some twenty-six acres, had been gained by excavating and flattening the hilltop and erecting a broad undergirding of solid masonry walls.
The outer part of the temple area formed the Court of the Gentiles. Beyond this, graven tablets in Greek, the most widely understood and spoken language in the Roman Empire, gave a grim warning:
Let no Gentile enter the limit and enclosure of the sanctuary. He who is caught will carry the guilt on himself, because death will follow.
The two sides of the Court of the Gentiles marked the boundaries of the Royal Porch. Its four rows of marble columns had been polished until they shone like gold. Roofed over with timbers hewn from cedar, they turned the area into a shady cloister where the teachers, called rabbis, held forth daily to any who would listen.
Next to the Court of the Gentiles was a section set off by a balustrade of stone, and beyond this a high wall by which the holy area itself could be turned into a fortress, as had been done on more than one occasion. Nine gates broke the solid line of the wall. One led to the Court of Women, beyond which was the Court of Israel, and still farther the Court of Priests. In the center of this latter court was the altar of burnt offering.
Strictly speaking, the various courts were outside the temple itself, which stood behind the altar. In the temple proper was first a vestibule, next the Holy Place, and finally the Holy of Holies, which only the high priest could enter, and then only on special occasions. The structure was built of white marble and its roof, towering to a height of nearly a hundred and fifty feet, was covered over with gold. True indeed was the saying, “He that has not seen the temple of Herod has never known what beauty is.”
To a person visiting the temple for the first time, the outer court resembled a marketplace with its constant din of voices filling the air as animals were sold for the sacrifices, which were practically continuous from morning to night. Once the day’s sacrifices had begun, the altar quickly took on much the appearance of a slaughterhouse and the priests that of butchers. Nor was this surprising, considering the fact that during one Passover period more than ten thousand lambs might be killed there.
The regular daily sacrifices in the temple included the burnt offering, for Israel celebrated both morning and evening, and the daily offering of meat and drink, as well as private devotions of thanksgiving, expiation by individuals for trespass and sin, and removal of the many ceremonial impurities which a person could easily incur by breaking one of the thousandfold prohibitions of the Law.
Support for the priests who carried out the temple worship came not only from their portion of the money offerings, which had to be in the Tyrian shekel, but also from taxes upon the crops, the tithe, the hallah levied upon dough for making bread, and many others. The temple itself required a tribute of half a shekel from every male Jew above twenty. When coupled with the levies put upon the people by Rome, these taxes for the support of the temple and the priestly hierarchy constituted a burden under which the population constantly groaned. Small wonder then that the tax collectors, Jews called publicans who worked for the Roman masters, were the most hated people in Israel.
Since the redemption of the firstborn child could be carried out before any priest, Joseph and Mary sought out one who stood at the entrance to the Court of Priests in a booth devoted to this purpose. First came the formal presentation of the babe, kicking naked upon the swaddling cloth of fine wool so that the priest could see if it were free of all blemishes. Next two short benedictions were pronounced, one for the Law of Redemption and the other for the gift of a firstborn son, in itself a sign of favor from the Most High. The redemption money, of the “Tyrian weight” required for all financial transactions in the temple area, was then paid.
As Mary wrapped the infant Jesus once again in the swaddling cloth, her happiness was very great, for He had now been offered ceremonially to the Lord, as Abraham had offered Isaac even to the point of preparing to slay him with his own hands, and had been ritually redeemed. Leaving the baby with Joseph, she now went to the Court of Women. There she deposited in the third of the thirteen chests, or “trumpets,” set along one wall, the price of a pair of turtledoves as stated by a priest standing nearby. When the blast of a silver trumpet announced the kindling on the golden altar of the incense offering for which she had helped to pay, Mary presented herself with a number of other women who were then directed to stand on either side of the Nicanor Gate, at the top of the fifteen steps leading from the Court of Women to the Court of Israel where the men gathered. Here, without actually being in the Court of Israel where her presence was forbidden, Mary could witness the sacrifice. This was quickly performed, the prayers of purification intoned, and the ceremony completed.
On returning to the outer court, Mary saw an old man coming to where Joseph stood waiting for her with Jesus in his arms, a blanket around the swaddling cloth. She hurried to them for she did not know what such attention from a stranger might mean, and arrived, a little breathless, just as the old man spoke.
“Shalom,” he said courteously to both. “My name is Simeon.”
They returned the greeting politely for they could see that he was quite at home in the temple and judged him to be a priest.
“I shall not see death before I have seen the Lord Christ,” Simeon explained, and held out his arms to take the child.
Mary had supposed that only she, Joseph, Elisabeth, and Zacharias knew the circumstances surrounding Jesus’ conception and birth. But now, it seemed, Simeon too had somehow learned that the child sleeping peacefully within the blanket was more than just another baby. Eager to learn everything she could about her child, Mary nodded to Joseph to let Simeon take Jesus in his arms.
Raptly the old man looked down at the face of the sleeping infant, then lifting his eyes upward, he spoke in prayer: “Lord, now You are letting Your servant depart in peace, according to Your word; for my eyes have seen Your salvation, which You have prepared before the face of all peoples, a light to bring revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of Your people Israel.”
Joseph looked at the old man in astonishment, as it was strictly forbidden a pious Jew to reveal anything of his faith to a Gentile or have any near contact with the heathen. Yet be was familiar enough with the sacred writings of the prophets which were read each Sabbath in the synagogue to know that Simeon was referring to the words of Isaiah concerning the Expected One.
“Behold, this Child is destined for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign which will be spoken against,” Simeon went on, handing the baby to Mary. Then his face grew grave as he concluded, “Yes, a sword will pierce through your own soul also, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.”
Suddenly afraid, Mary pressed Jesus so tightly against her breast that He woke and began to cry.
“Come, Joseph,” she said quickly. “Our business here is finished. Let us go back to Bethlehem.”
As they were leaving the outer court, an old woman stopped them. They recognized her from previous visits to Jerusalem as a prophetess named Anna who spent most of her waking hours in the temple serving God. And since there could be no possible harm in this pious woman of great age, they stopped courteously to answer her greeting.
“Blessed are you,” Anna said to Mary as she looked at the child. For your Son shall bring redemption to all who shall look upon Him.”
Mary and Joseph left as quickly as they could without being rude to the old priestess. They had been forewarned by the angel that the child Mary was to bear would be different from others, but so long as only a few people had known of it, they had not been afraid. Now it had begun to seem that many shared the knowledge, and if this were so, word of it might easily come to Herod, who had already ruthlessly exterminated everyone with any claim to the throne of Israel, however remote, even to the point of executing his own sons.
Chapter 4
Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem.
Matthew 2:1
The king of Israel was afraid.
A determined man, utterly without scruple where he considered his own welfare to be involved, Herod had never been sure of his throne though he had reigned longer in Israel as king under Rome than had any other for a long while. One reason for his fear was the fact that he was not even a Jew by heritage or a member of any royal house in Israel or Syria.
Oppressed by both Herod, an alien king, and Augustus, an alien emperor, the Jews looked back longingly over almost exactly a thousand years to the glorious days of David and Solomon. David, the shepherd boy who became king, had united the loose confederation of families and tribes, descendants of those who had come storming across the Jordan behind Joshua to unlock the rich treasure chests of Canaan when God had sent the walls of fortress Jericho tumbling to the plain. For a brief period Israel had known a golden age, but the division of the kingdom following Solomon’s death had made the nation the victim of a series of conquerors.
Israel as a nation and Judaism as a religion might actually have been destroyed during these trying years but for the Persian insult in deporting a large portion of the Jewish people to Babylon. There in servitude, as during the stay in Egypt a thousand years before, their unity of spirit and purpose through worship of the single God who had selected them as his own, was crystallized into the driving force that was to animate the Jews ever after, no matter how far they might be scattered abroad.
The prophet Ezekiel had fanned the flame in Babylon. When the Jews had finally been allowed to return to the homeland thro
ugh the generosity of Cyrus of Persia, their poverty in numbers had been more than compensated for by their fervor of spirit and their confidence that God would once again raise up His kingdom for them with a glory exceeding even that of the days of David and Solomon. Peopled by only a few thousand of the fiercely devout who had returned from captivity in Babylon and governed by a high priest and a gerousia, or senate, Judea was at first only a city-state under the domination of nearby Syria.
The conquering tide of Alexander the Great had swirled about the walls of Jerusalem when he laid siege to Tyre on the seacoast to the north, but he had graciously spared the city, even, it was said, making a sacrifice in the temple. Greek tolerance proved in many ways a greater enemy of Judaism than Alexander’s armies, however, for it introduced the pagan philosophy of life called Hellenism. Greek cities sprang up all over the neighboring area, Greek influences penetrated Jerusalem and soon infiltrated into the very worship of the temple. Nor did Alexander’s untimely death change this situation, for the rulers who succeeded him were Greek as well.
Hellenistic influences, and the inevitable reaction against them by the inspired core of Judaism in Jerusalem, soon altered the character of the worship in the temple. Opposed to this change, a group of pious men known as the Sopherim sought to keep intact the inheritance of Judaism from Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Organized as the Great Synagogue, they concentrated on the Torah, a history of God’s dealings with His own people, and the Law handed down from Moses. From them came the most influential and most determinedly religious group in all of Israel, the Pharisees.
The Crown and the Cross: The Life of Christ Page 4