The Bethlehem Star

The Bethlehem Star
Pg. XXIII
been waiting for all of our lives. Our people have been
waiting for hundreds of years for this very night. And, with
all the important and worthy people of our land—the Scribes,
the Rabbis, the Priests of the Temple even—for some reason
our God has chosen us, shepherds, to be the first to receive
the news; to be the first to know of the birth of the Messiah.
Let us go into town and find him. I believe tonight, of all
nights, our sheep will remain unharmed. Let us go, then, into
Bethlehem.
We gathered ourselves up and walked along the
ridge of the hill over to the edge of town. It was amazing, but
it appeared as if the new star
was shining even brighter
than in the recent days past,
and now it seemed to be
shining right over the Inn of
Zacchaeus the Miser.
So that’s where we
went. As we approached the
door, I thought to myself,
“Wouldn’t that be a stretch if
the Messiah were to be born
under the banner of a stingy
guy like this?”
Then, as John went
to knock on the door—it was
the middle of the night, of
course—I stopped him
suddenly.
“Wait!” I said.
“They told us He would be
found ...in a manger. ...Why
don’t we try the stable first?”
They agreed, so we
made our way around to the
back of the Inn to Zacheus’s
stable. As soon as we came
around the corner of the
building we all stopped in
our tracks. A beam of light
glistened in the night,
shining straight down from
the star to this meager little
run-down animal barn. Made me nervous just to behold it.
We moved toward it with probably the same caution in our
steps that I imagine Daniel had when he was in the lion’s
den.
The stable itself was sort of a lean-to timbered
structure built in against a rock face that had been a type of
caved enclosure many years ago. Wasn’t much to look at,
and, even as we approached, I found myself hoping that, if
there was to be a Messiah born, that he wouldn’t have to
spend his first days among our people in such a brokendown,
smelly place like this. It would be an
embarrassment. What kind of hosts would we be?
Thomas took a deep breath, and then he
knocked, lightly, on the stable door. We heard
stirrings inside, a woman’s voice whispering.
My heart sank. “What are we doing here?” I
thought to myself. “These people just want to get
some sleep. It’s the middle of the night, for cryin’out
loud!”
But then we heard the latch bar being lifted
from inside, and the door slowly creaked open, just a
little. Immediately, though, I
could feel the warmth from
inside. I could also smell the
animals. Whoa.
A young man peered
out at us, rubbing his eyes,
“Yes, do you need a place to
stay? We don’t have much
room in here, but we certainly
can find a way. How many
are you? My name is Joseph,
son of Jacob, the carpenter of
Nazareth, and you are all
welcome. Please, come in.”
“Wow!” I thought to
myself. “We could be
robbers, brigands, ne’er-dowells,
anything; and this
young man invites us in
without even a second
thought.” This Joseph was a
big fellow, though. Those
carpenters always were;
but...even so, there were IV
of us. “He must be a young
man of great courage,” I
remember thinking to myself.
“You look to me like
This is the humbly touching scene that greeted the
shepherds,” he continued,
shepherds as they entered the old stable of Zacchaeus “and you must be very cold
tonight. Are you hungry?
Please, do come in.”
Thomas looked at me and John and
Benjamin, and even down at Toby. “This is one
unusual night.” We thanked this young Joseph, and
entered into the stable.
To my astonishment, there was a beautiful
young woman lying on a very warm and comfortable-looking
thick bed of straw, right next to what
looked like an old feeding trough, but one that had
been converted now into a very clean-looking, strawladen
crib. And the infant himself was wrapped in