CHAPTER VII. The Wonderful Night Draws Near
“Now it came to pass in those
days, there went out a decree from Cæsar Augustus,
that all the world should be enrolled.”
This is the point at which the orderly and scholarly
Luke opens his account of the birth of our Lord.
It seems like going a long way off from and around
to the end in view. But there are no isolated
facts and forces in the world and all things work
together. When we see providence start in we never
can tell where it is going to come out. If God
is about to bless us, he may start the chain of causation
that shall at length reach us in some far-off place
or land; or if he is about to save a soul in China
he may start with one of us in the contribution we
make to foreign missions. Cæsar Augustus, master
of the world, from time to time ordered a census to
be taken of the empire that he might know its resources
and reap from it a richer harvest of taxes. It
was probably between the months of December and March,
B.C. 5-4, that such a census was being taken in the
province of Syria.
In accordance with ancient Jewish
usage, all citizens repaired to the tribe and village
from which they were descended, and were there enrolled.
In the town of Nazareth in the north lived Joseph,
a village carpenter, and Mary, his espoused wife,
who though a virgin was great with child, having been
overshadowed by the Holy Spirit and the mystery having
been revealed to her and her betrothed husband.
They were both descended from the royal line of David,
and therefore to Bethlehem they must go. With
us such a journey of eighty miles would mean no more
than stepping on a railway car at nine o’clock
in the morning and stepping off at noon. But
with them it meant a toilsome journey on foot of several
days. Slowly they wended their way southward,
led on by the irresistible hand of Cæsar, far away
on his throne. The ancient Hebrew prophecy of
Micah and the imperial decree of Cæsar thus marvelously
fitted into each other and worked together. Mary
must have known of this prophecy, and we know not
with what a sense of mystery and fear and joy she
drew near to the predicted place where the Messiah
was to be born.
Bethlehem sits like a crown on its
rocky ridge. At length its walls and towers loomed
in the distance, and then presently up the steep road
climbed the carpenter and his espoused wife and passed
through the gate into the village. When they
came to the inn, it was already crowded with visitors,
driven thither by the decree of Cæsar that had set
all Palestine in commotion. In connection with
the inn, generally the central space of its four-square
inclosure, but probably in this case a cave in the
limestone rock, was a stable, or place for the camels
and horses and cattle of the guests. Among these
oriental people it was (and is) no uncommon thing
for travelers, when the chambers of the inn were fully
occupied, to make a bed of straw and spend the night
in this place. In this stable, possibly the very
cave where now stands the Church of the Nativity,
Mary and Joseph found lodgings for the night.
It was not a mark of degradation or social inferiority
for them to do this, though it was an indication of
their meager means, as wealthy visitors would doubtless
have found better accommodations.