I reckon it’s time to have another look at this birthday we’re celebrating next week. Not for the usual reasons – you know, who the hell brings Myrrh as a present? Where were Health and Safety when that innkeeper got his licence? No, it’s the reality of it that concerns me. For a start, there’s no agreement between the two registrars who recorded the birth. You’ve got Matthew’s quick note saying: ‘Now the birth of Jesus Christ was on this wise; When, as his mother Mary was espoused to Joseph, before they came together, she was found with child of the Holy Ghost. Then Joseph, her husband, being a just man, and not willing to make her a publick example, was minded to put her away privily.’
Fair enough, a reasonable sort of reaction from the guy. Then along comes the obstetric angel Gabriel, tells him it’s cool and that the Holy Ghost did it, so Joseph marries her. But, between 25 and 50 years later, in Luke’s version, Gabriel visits Mary, not Joseph, and gives her the test result. Whichever account you prefer, it’s hard not to feel that Joseph’s getting a bad deal and I think it’s legitimate to speculate on how that crucial exchange between the engaged couple went.
Joe was a hard worker so he was in his shop, putting the finishing touches to a sleigh. Most of the time, there wasn’t much call for sleighs in Galilee but they’d become part of the traditional trappings of that certain time of the year. He was rather surprised when Mary arrived, flushed and slightly breathless.
There was no greeting. Her first words were just ‘Look, Joe. Don’t get mad’.
Joe was surprised.
‘Why should I, honey?’ he said.
He noticed that Mary was avoiding eye contact, looking intently at the runners of the sleigh, smoothing her fingers along them, but too quickly, in a rather agitated way.
‘What’s the matter?’ said Joe. ‘Another of your dreams, is it?’
Mary shook her head. Joe was puzzled. This wasn’t like her. Her days were usually spent quietly beside the river, making Moses baskets out of reeds. She was an untroubled soul.
‘What then?’ he said.
Mary took a deep breath and found the courage to look directly at him.
‘Oh Joe,’ she said. ‘We’re going to have to get married.’
Joe smiled.
‘I know, Baby,’ he said. ‘We’ve been planning it for ages. We’ll …’
‘No. Now. Right away, I mean.’
Joe was an honourable man and he’d resisted forcing his attentions on Mary before marriage so the idea of bringing the ceremony forward wasn’t unattractive but this was sudden, unexpected. She’d shown no such urgency before.
‘Why?’ was all he said.
Her answer was a bombshell.
‘I’m pregnant.’
Joe dropped his adse.
‘Pregnant?’ he said. ‘But, I thought you was a virgin.’
It was a sure sign of the stress he was feeling. Joe was usually a stickler for grammar but in extremis his working class origins rose to the surface.
‘I am a virgin. I am, Joe. But I’m still pregnant,’ said a desperate Mary.
Words such as ‘dirty little scrubber’ pushed their way into Joe’s mind but he bit them back.
‘Well, well,’ he said. ‘In that case, you’d better go and marry the bloke what done it.’
‘There wasn’t any bloke,’ said Mary.
‘Oh, Act of God, I s’pose,’ sneered Joe.
‘Exactly,’ said Mary. ‘Listen, last night, I was in bed asleep, and suddenly I woke up, and there was this bloke standin by the bed. With big wings stickin out the back. He said . . . Well, he said he was an angel. Called Gabriel.’
Joe paused for a moment, then shook his head.
‘And you fell for it, did you?’
‘Honest, Joe. He never touched me. He never even put down his harp. He just said I’d found favour with God, and I was going to have a baby boy. Said I was goin to be visited. By the Holy Ghost.’
‘That was his mate, I suppose,’ said Joe, wanting to believe her but burning with jealousy.
Mary reached out and touched his hand.
‘This is special, Joe,’ she said. ‘I’m goin to have a baby boy. And he’s gonna be king. And he’s gonna rule over the house of David for ever. And I’m to be blessed among women. Oh, and we’ve got to call the baby Jesus.’
‘Jesus?’ said Joe, the sarcasm dripping from each syllable. ‘Huh, you should’ve realised he was havin you on when he said that.’
Mary frowned. ‘Why?’ she asked.
‘It’s obvious, innit? I mean, if he’d said Kevin or Arthur or somethin, it would’ve made sense. But Jesus? Christ!’
Mary couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. It broke Joe’s heart to see them. He did love her so much.
‘There, there,’ he said. ‘Alright, listen. Just … just tell me what else he said.’
Mary sniffed.
‘Well,’ she said. ‘We’ve got to go to Bethlehem to have him.’
‘Bethlehem?’ said Joe. ‘That’s bloody miles! And there’s no obstetrical units there or nothin.’
‘I know,’ said Mary. ‘We’ve got to have him in a stable and lie him in a manger.’
‘A stable and a manger?’ said Joe. ‘That’s ridiculous. Bit of a cock-up if you ask me.’
Mary nodded, still sniffing back the tears.
‘Well, he said it’s the first time they’ve done a saviour.’
Joe put his arm round her and, with his other hand, stroked her hair.
‘When’s it due?’ he asked, his voice now gentle.
‘Sometime around Christmas,’ said Mary.
The two of them sat there, each trying to come to terms with the change in their relationship, a change that was only fully evident to Joe when he suggested that, since Mary was pregnant anyway, they could go to bed. Together.
‘No, Joe,’ said Mary, in her special, little girl voice. ‘I’ve got to be the Virgin Mary, remember?’
‘How long for?’ said Joe.
‘Two thousand years. At least.’.
Ah, so this is what happened. As a religious studies person I should have known. Thanks for this knew info.
But I did know that bursting out in tears makes men do whatever you want. Always useful.
Until they find fragments of this conversation in Aramaic, it remains speculative but it’s based on a sound knowledge of the human psyche and copious amounts of wine.
Ah, there speaks the absurdist, Bill (is that a word?). But don’t forget she only remained a virgin until after the birth – Joe then got his reward. By the way, there was an excellent Nativity drama on TV last Christmas – one of the best I’ve seen and it showed a very good example of how Joseph most likely reacted!
On behalf of Joe, Rosemary, many thanks. It did seem rather an excessive punishment.
I think she’s having him on! Oh, and how did they know it would be Christmas?
Because Joe was making sleighs, Chris. (Which is a completely absurd answer but then, that’s Gabriel for you.)
I’m very impressed by your translation skills,Bill…and this version explains a lot!
Thanks Myra. I just thought a bit of enlightenment was overdue.
Welcome back, Bill. I giggled my way through this. As you would expect from an acolyte of the Church of BahHumbug. (You’re an adept, did you know?)
You captured the absurdity of the tale so very well. In sharp contrast to the true story, of the man in red, the dying year and rebirth.
Happy Hogswatch to you and yours, my friend.
There was always a mid winter festival, Greta. The Church decided to substitute a celebration of the birth of Jesus for the solstice stuff, so people would still have something to celebrate at a time they were used to. It’s good not to simply rubbish previous culture, when people turn to the Lord. They knew Jesus probably wasn’t born on Dec 25, but it seemed like a good idea to take over the pagan celebration.
It’s actually very good to think of the bible stories in modern terms, Bill. We are too inclined to expect them to be in archaic language and therefore they pass over us. Just two comments. As Rosemary says, the New Testament makes it clear that Mary and Joseph had children after Jesus – James the brother of Jesus, etc. And naturally the Lord sent Gabriel to both Mary and Joseph, to make sure they both understood what was happening – of course he didn’t leave Joseph wondering what on earth was going on! Nevertheless they both probably had to put up with a lot of stick, especially from the neighbouring kids, I imagine. Took courage.
Thanks Greta, and all the very best Yuletide festive stuff to you too.
Anon, I’d never dream of rubbishing previous culture – of any creed or country. It’s the repository of all the great stories and truths, told and retold and enriched every time.
Gerry, I actually love the archaic language. It gives the stories a resonance it’s hard to replicate in modern terms. And the virgin gag was simply to give me a punchline. I do know about Jesus’s family life, having read the marvellous ‘Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ’ by Philip Pullman. It’s a wonderful, entertaining book, with great insights into the whole story and a persuasive reading of the history of the man and his teachings – far, far removed from the trivial game-playing I’m indulging in here.
What a hero that Joe was! To pretend he believed her…
Nice to see your sense of humour has not been replaced, Bill.
Interesting thought, Jenny – exchanging my sense of humour for that of a pig. Who knows? They may all be farmyard Oscar Wildes.
I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed this ‘version’ of the Christmas story, Bill. Reminded me a bit of Christopher Moore’s book, Lamb, where young Jesus is playing with his friends practicing bringing a lizard back to life after suffocating it. A great blend of absurdity, realism and the traditional and a Scottish Mary and Joseph to top it off. Thanks for the laugh.
Glad you liked it, Livia. I read Lamb too and loved it.