Tuesday, December 29, 2015

The Davidson Estate Manager's Tale -- Christmas 2015

Manager’s Tale
Christmas 2015
Rev. Adam T. Trambley
St. John’s, Sharon and St. Jude’s, Hermitage

Archeologists recent discovered an ancient scroll buried in a Bethlehem cave.  Written on it were the following reflections from about two thousand years ago…

Probably nobody will ever read this.  It’s not like I’m an important Imperial personage – just another Jewish guy trying to earn a living.  But what happened the other night was so incredible, I thought I better write it down for myself.  Oh, yeah, my name is Clyde.  I’m what you might call the manager for the Davidson estate here in Bethlehem.  The Davidsons are one of the oldest, and wealthiest, families in this area. Someone has to take care of their house and fields and animals, and the someone for all that work is me.

Even before that night, the whole week was crazy -- Caesar getting it into his head to have a census of the whole world.  I don’t know how many people he counted, but I counted a lot, let me tell you.  All the Davidsons coming back to Bethlehem from heaven only knows where in order to be registered.  Don’t get me wrong, we have a big house, but that was a lot of people, and they all came to stay with us.  Where else could they stay?  When you travel you stay with family.  We aren’t a big city with fancy guest houses.  I guess the pub has a couple of rooms in the back, but no respectable person would stay there.  And Mr. Davidson, like most people in this area, has a great gift for hospitality.  And let me tell you, there were some impressive family members coming home.  People on camels with jewel encrusted harnesses, their wives with flowing silk scarves, children playing with hand-carved olive wood Star Wars action figures.  And I was responsible to see that beds got made and meals got cooked and whatever else needed to be done got done.

I was pretty tired when Joseph showed up in the middle of the night with his new, very pregnant wife.  He used to visit with his family before his first wife died, but I hadn’t seen him in years.  After a bumpy donkey ride, his wife looked like she could give birth any minute.  I didn’t really have a place to put them, and even if I found an empty corner inside, someone giving birth would keep the whole house awake all night.  I was pretty sure none of the prominent family members would want that. 

I did the only thing I could think of.  I led them back to the cave where the animals slept during the night.  It would be warm, at least, and sort of private, if you don’t count the sheep.  Then I ran to wake up the local midwives.  They weren’t too happy with me when they found out that I put the mommy-to-be on some straw next to the manger, but they came.  Of course, they needed water, and our guests had used almost all of it, so I got to make a midnight water run. (Actually, I’m glad it was dark since drawing water is really women’s work, but the maids were already asleep, so off I went).

When I got back with the water, the midwives took it and shooed me away.  I figured I’d go start preparing the day’s meals since I wasn’t getting any more sleep that night.  I was about an hour into grinding up chick peas for hummus, when the midwives came in.  They were incredibly excited.  They started asking me all these questions.  “Why didn’t I tell them the child was special?”  “Where are the parents from?”  “Who are these people?”  Apparently the baby, who was named Jesus, was unlike any other baby they had ever delivered.  I don’t know much about childbirth, not having been to any except my own, but the midwives said the birth was the smoothest they’d ever witnessed, like the baby was doing everything possible to make his mom comfortable during the whole birth.  And they didn’t think his mom was in any pain at all.  Then the baby reached out for everyone to hold him – both midwives, his mother, and his father – almost like he was saying “Hi” and giving everyone a hug.  Then the baby nursed and fell right asleep.  The mom laid Jesus down in the manger that they had cleaned out, and then went to sleep herself. 

When the midwives left, I wasn’t really sure what to think, but I didn’t have long to ponder it because then the shepherds showed up.  Now we have some trouble with shepherds.  We have a few fields for our animals near the house, but it isn’t open grazing for everyone in town if you catch my drift.  Everyone knows shepherds are untrustworthy, and we have some nice things at the house, so we keep them away.  On that kind of night, they should have all been out with their flocks anyway, so to see them without sheep coming toward our place was pretty strange.  I went out to meet them and told them they had to leave our property.  They just laughed, and there were about a dozen of them, so I wasn’t feeling too comfortable at first.  Then I realized they weren’t laughing a scornful laugh at me, but a joyful laugh.  One of them said, “I know you don’t like us, but we’re on a mission from God.”  Then another one said, “Don’t be dramatic.  But we were sent by angels.  They told us to come to Bethlehem, the City of David, and greet the Messiah, the Lord.”  This whole claim was patently ridiculous, but when I looked at the shepherds, it was clear that they believed what they were saying, and that something had really happened to them.  They were different – more serious, while also being more sparkling.  They just might have seen an angel. 

“OK,” I said.  “Let me go wake up Mr. Davidson, and he’ll know which of our important guests is the person you are looking for.”  Then the shepherds laughed again.  One said, “The Messiah isn’t some old person asleep in your fancy house.  The Messiah is a newborn baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.  I assume your manger is in the cave with the animals?”  And with that he pointed to where Jesus had just been born and they all started walking there.  I followed them.  I didn’t know what else to do.  I felt some responsibility for this child born that night, and I couldn’t leave the family alone with all those shepherds.

As soon as they saw the baby lying in the manger, they started jumping around and whooping and hollering.  I think they were praising God, but in all honesty it was a bit exuberant for my tastes.  One was yelling, “Thanks be to God”, and another “What they angel said is true,” a two of them in the corner were literally rolling on the floor laughing.  I thought that was just an expression, but these shepherds were so overcome that they couldn’t stand up.  There were laughing huge, loud laughs, with tears rolling down their cheeks, and when one would catch his breath, he would look at the baby or at the other one, and start laughing again.  This brouhaha all lasted a good five minutes, and the baby slept peacefully through all of it.

Once people settled down, one of the shepherds, who seemed a little older than the others, went up to the parents and told them what had happened.   How an angel surrounded by light had appeared to them and told them that he had good news of great joy for all people.  How they should go to Bethlehem and find the baby lying in the manger who would be the Messiah, the Lord.  Then, apparently, a whole host of angels appeared, lighting up the entire sky, and they to sing.  Then all the shepherds in the cave with us turned to the baby, and they began to sing.  They said afterwards they couldn’t sing it nearly as well as the angels did, but I’ve never heard any music so beautiful in my life.  The baby woke up as they were singing, and he just sort of smiled, and then went back to sleep.  After the shepherds sang, they gave the baby’s mother some wool and said they wanted her to use it for the baby’s first sweater.  Then they left, praising God and laughing and singing as they walked home.


In the morning, Mr. Davidson told people to move around so that Joseph’s family could have some space, and they stayed around for a while.   I think the shepherds and the midwives were right.  There was something special about that little Jesus.  When he was in the room, things were just more peaceful, somehow.  I always felt like I could just be a better person, more patient and gentle, after I helped his family with something and got to hold him a minute.  I’m not sure what the shepherds meant when they said he was the Messiah, but I hope that’s what he is when he grows up.  He’d probably make a good one.

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