Ponder This!
Luke 2:1-14, (15-20)
Sermon
by John Jamison

This is the story we remember. There is Mary and Joseph, the animals, the shepherds, the angels, and the baby all wrapped up and lying in a manger. It is quiet and calm. The star is floating overhead. Even the animals seem to understand that something important has happened. This is the image of Christmas the artists recreate, and the Christmas we show every year with our nativity scenes.

As I remember the story now and think of that image of all of them gathered around the little baby, I find one line from the scripture kind of sticking in my mind more than the rest. It’s that line I’ve heard over and over, but haven’t really paid much attention to it because it really just doesn’t sound all that important considering all the rest. It is the line that says, “But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” Especially that last part where Mary “pondered them in her heart.”

I looked up that word; ponder. The dictionary says that to ponder means to “think about (something) carefully, especially before making a decision or reaching a conclusion.” Another one says to ponder means “to spend time thinking carefully and seriously about a problem or a difficult question.” And it just strikes me strange, that in the middle of this wonderful image of peacefulness and calm, Mary is pondering. It seems like she would be relieved, and tired, and just kind of chilling out. But Luke says she was pondering, thinking seriously about some problem or difficult question; some type of decision that had to be made. Mary was pondering. It just seems out of place.

Until I remember the full story.

Then I imagine that part of what Mary is pondering  is what happened back in Nazareth after the angel had first told her she was going to have the baby. The things said to her by people in town, and most of all, the look on Joseph’s face when she first told him. She was grateful that the angel had finally explained things to him, but until that happened it had been difficult, to say the least. Then the people talked about Joseph too, and how he had allowed her to shame them like she did.

And when they found out about the census and the long trip they had to take to Jerusalem, the difficulties of the trip were almost seen as a welcomed relief to just get them out of town for a while, away from the criticism and shaming.

But the journey was a long walk, more than 100 miles along roads and paths through really difficult territory. And it was a walk. Mary and Joseph were not wealthy. We know that because after the baby was born and they went to the temple to give their offering, we’re told they gave two doves or two pigeons. That is the offering of the poor, not the well-to-do. They would not have had a donkey for Mary to ride to Jerusalem, so they walked.

There were two usual ways to get from Nazareth to Jerusalem, neither was easy. You could travel east to the Sea of Galilee, and then go south along the Jordan River valley. It was rugged land bordering the wilderness, a very difficult journey for a young woman expecting a child. The other route was just straight south through the high country. The roads were better, but it could be cold there, and the path went through Samaria. The Jews and the Samaritans had been at odds ever since the Babylonian exile. It may have been generations ago, but the feelings were still very much alive. While Mary and Joseph could have traveled the roads through Samaria, they would have had to dodge the sticks and stones that would have been thrown at them along the way. Regardless of what their son would say years later, Mary and Joseph both knew very well there was no such thing as a “good” Samaritan. And, whichever route they took, the roads would have been crowded with other travelers. Everyone in the land was to return to their place of birth to be counted in the census. The roads were crowded. Mary and Joseph walked and tried to stay out of the way of the well-to- do with their carts and wagons hogging the road. The wagon-riders also had the advantage of not having to deal with the beggars. The roads filled with travelers attracted every kind of beggar from throughout the land. Mary and Joseph would have been constantly approached by those with their hands out…the lame, the blind, the lepers. According to the laws, a woman bearing a child who is touched by the unclean should immediately bathe herself or risk becoming unclean herself. But there were no ritual bath-houses along the roads. Joseph did his best to protect her, but the roads were crowded.

And as they passed through the city of Jerusalem and neared Bethlehem, the crowds became even larger. If there were rooms available, they were only for those who could pay the high prices the landlords knew they could get during the census. Price gouging is not a new thing. Nor are pickpockets, and scam artists. Crowds coming in from every small village in the country presented a great opportunity for city-wise criminals. Even if you might find an available room, it might be nothing more than a ruse to get you away from the crowds where you could be robbed in private.

Finally, we are told that one homeowner saw Mary and the look on her face, and took pity on them. Or, some traditions say they finally found the home of a relative, and even though the place was already over-crowded, family hospitality was honored. Either way, Mary and Joseph were led through the front part of the house built against the hill, into the cave in the back of the house where the animals were kept. Whatever else you might say about the place, the smells, and the animals, at least it was out of the crowds. We don’t know how long Mary and Joseph were there, but at some point, the baby was born. He was wrapped in cloth, and placed in one of the large, stone feeding troughs separating the cave-room from the rest of the house.

Then the shepherds arrived. They talked about angels and the baby. The shepherds were excited and told everyone they saw about the baby. Word spread and the crowds began to gather. People came to see the miracle baby. At one point, three foreign men came in. They were wealthy men, carrying gifts for the baby. Mary watched as one of the men placed pieces of gold next to the baby. Another placed a jar of frankincense. The third a jar of myrrh. These were gifts usually presented at the birth of a king. They were also gifts typically used for embalming. Mary watched, and treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. She pondered. I wonder if she was thinking about the honor of being the mother of a king, or if she was just trying to think of how to protect her newborn baby boy? I wonder if she was trying to decide what kinds of things she needed to do to raise her son as God intended, or if she was trying to come up with a way to just make all of this go away so she could be a mother to her son. I wonder if she was calm and at ease inside, or if she was terrified and trying to find some way to grab her baby, get out of town, and go someplace where no one knew who they were? The artists seem to believe she was doing just fine, and show her face as one of peace and assurance. But I wonder.

Please understand. I am not trying to ruin this wonderful image or pull the rug out from under your Christmas. And I am not at all trying to lessen the image of Mary. All I am wondering if Mary might have been different than the image we often see of her, and just a bit more like you and me? If even in the middle of what she had been told was something from God, if even then she might have wondered… might have questioned… might have pondered… like I would have? Because if she did… if she did have questions or doubts… even brief ones… she was still able to find a way to do what needed to be done.

For me, if she could do that… be human and have human questions… and still, find the strength to do what God wanted her to do… then she reminds me today that there may still be hope for me as well. And that, for me, is the true miracle of Christmas.

Merry Christmas. Amen.

CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Be Different: Cycle A sermons for Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany based on the Gospel texts, by John Jamison