The Nativity through Joseph’s eyes—a meditation

While meditating before the Blessed Sacrament, I found myself truly present in Bethlehem, among Joseph, Mary, and the Child Jesus. There, Joseph shared his story with me.

Joseph was a simple carpenter from Nazareth. He couldn’t afford to stop working and had little set aside to care for a child, let alone an unexpected journey to Bethlehem.

Mary, heavily pregnant, couldn’t manage the 90-mile trek on foot, so he borrowed a donkey for her to ride and trusted God to provide for them on the way.

Despite the challenges, their hearts were full and open to God’s will. They praised the Lord for calling them to parent His firstborn Son. The journey to Bethlehem, though arduous, was marked by psalms, prayers, joy, and expectation. They marvelled at the mystery of the child they were to welcome. They knew His name, but how would He look? What would He be like? How could they care for the Son of God? Their joy was mingled with uncertainty.

No room

After four days travel, they reached Bethlehem and went straight to an inn. no room. They tried another. Again, No room. They knocked at every inn and private house, only to hear the same story.

Travelling more slowly than others, they found every place already taken. Joseph’s heart sank. The journey had been difficult for Mary, and she was utterly exhausted. He prayed for God’s kindness, not for himself, but for Mary and the child. Despair began to creep in.

At last, an innkeeper’s wife stepped outside and said, “We have no room, but you seem like good people, and your child will be here soon. Around the back, we have a stable. You may use it while you’re in the city. I’ll do what I can to help.”

The stable, though humble, felt like a palace to them. Among the animals and their earthy smells, they were out of the cold. The kind woman brought blankets and fashioned a snug corner where Mary could rest.

Just as they settled in, Mary went into labour. Joseph called the woman, who prepared warm water and swaddling clothes. She went to fetch more water, but by the time she returned, the child was born—straight into Joseph’s hands.

Emmanuel

Joseph gazed at the child, a boy, and he wept. He fell to his knees, overcome with awe. On that holy night, the stable became transformed into a heavenly realm, filled with majesty and mystery, with the very presence of God. Angels ascended and descended, their ethereal voices singing the sublime hymn, “Glory to God in the highest heavens!”

But Joseph wept. He wept because he had looked upon the face of God and lived. He wept because God had visited His people. He wept because, at that moment, every prophecy about the Messiah was fulfilled.

In the silence, he and Mary marvelled at the enormity of God’s work through them. Holding the child close, Joseph worshipped as he never had before.

Time seemed to stand still. God’s presence filled the stable with an unfathomable fullness, a love purer than anything Joseph had ever known. It overflowed from within him, from Mary, from the child, and into the world.

A psalm stirred in his heart, and he found himself singing:

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge.

They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them.

Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,

their words to the ends of the world. (Psalm 19:1–4)

Joseph was in the presence of the living God and lived. He bowed in worship, tears streaming down his face, overwhelmed by the marvels of God. Witnessing this child’s birth, holding Him, and hearing the angels’ song was the most extraordinary and humbling moment of his life. The glow on Mary’s face was beyond words. His soul was saturated with the splendour of God, and he wept anew.

He remembered Isaiah’s prophecy: “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel” (Isaiah 7:14). Looking upon the child, he whispered, “God is with us.”

Turning to Mary, he said, “This Scripture is being fulfilled today, in our presence.” Clutching the child, he embraced Mary, his heart overflowing with love and gratitude. The events in the stable echoed deep within him, almost too much to bear.

A pang of regret pierced his joy as he recalled how he had once considered walking away from Mary and the child. But Mary, ever gentle, consoled him. “Joseph, you are a just and righteous man, a man of Torah, a man of God. It was He who chose you for this.” Joseph marvelled at God’s generosity in choosing him despite his doubts and shortcomings. Even in his worry and uncertainty, God had provided in ways beyond imagining.

The innkeeper’s wife returned, surprised to find the child already born. She cleaned Him, wrapped Him in swaddling clothes, and placed Him in Mary’s arms. Mary, overwhelmed with joy, sang her Magnificat once more: My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour. And it filled the little stable with prophetic delight.

Her song was a prayer from the depths of her being to the living God, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, now born of her, now with her. The woman then laid the child in the manger, a fitting place for the one who would be food for His people. Mary and Joseph worshipped Him, their hearts full of praise and silent tears, offering everything to God.

The Nativity and the Now

In Eden, God’s presence with His people was so profound that He walked with them in the cool of the evening. There was perfect harmony between God, humanity, and creation.
In Bethlehem, God was once again profoundly present with His people, this time as one of them. The birth of Jesus ushered in a new era, transforming the spiritual life forever.
When God becomes Immanuel, everything changes. Heaven and Earth are united; the whole world becomes pregnant with God’s presence. This fundamental shift invites us to consider how our spiritual life has changed because Christ has come. How do we now experience God compared to the time before the Incarnation?

The Nativity began a revolution in the relationship between God and humanity. Joseph’s experience in the stable opened a portal for all who seek God. Persisting in prayer creates opportunities for God to reveal Himself to us, to deepen our intimacy with Him—His greatest desire for us. We need only ask for the grace to desire Him above all else, and He will answer in ways we cannot imagine.
The invitation of Bethlehem remains: to see God’s face in the ordinary, to trust Him in our own stables, and to let the presence of Immanuel transform every part of our lives. God is with us. Let that truth echo in our hearts and change us forever.
(Homily at Blanchisseuse, August 2024.)