Year to year, I am drawn to the Christmas story.  It is a simple well known tale.  I re-imagine the story in terms of one more year of life experience.  At this juncture I am interested in Matthews rendition of the story.  (Matthew 1:18-2:23) The points of dissonance in the story speak to me, with their jagged edge.  These caught my attention.

In the world of late antiquity there was no middle class as we understand that way of life.  One was well born, with the benefits of political connection, and such amenities as wealth and status provide.   Or you were among the masses, a commoner, scraping by, to achieve adequate shelter, and livelihood.  You were subject directly to the whims of your betters, the ruling class.  They defined your reality.  In Rome if you did not have a trade, or work for a prominent family, you could starve.  And then there were the slaves.

Word of the pregnancy is disturbing news according to Matthew.  Joseph is tormented as he realizes that the developing child is not his.  What to do?  It took an Angel to disclose the back story, which Joseph needed in order to make a sound decision.  I think that all pregnancies, are by definition dissonant.  The advent of a new human disrupts everything.  Minimally the new born will require nearly 20 years of nurture, solicitude, and instruction in order to become a productive adult.  And luck will play a big factor.  Metaphorically speaking, the appearance of an Angel is no less than what is needed, at many points — from a parents perspective.  If you’ve raised a family you know what I mean.

Strange things happen by coincidence.  Such as the wise men showing up with gifts, a boon for the recently born child.  This might seem like a happy stroke of good luck.  Not so fast.  The arrival of the prestigious out-of-towners attract the interest of Herod.  Herod is the representative of the State’s authority.  Despite his facade of hospitality, he is a murderous son-of-a-bitch.  The wise men are unimpressed by Herod’s accoutrements of power.  They depart keeping their counsel to themselves.  Herod undeterred, soon conceives a policy that results in the murder of every male child under the age of two in the target area.  Herod’s descendants continue with us.  The evisceration of Syria. Think of the obliteration of Aleppo, blanket killing, to make a point.  Just a current example.

I am getting ahead of myself.  When the three dignitaries find the child with his parents, they present their gifts, and worship the child.  For myself I strip the term worship of the traditional notion of the  sacred.  It is clear to me that every young child holds the potential to renew the world.  Every child.  Thus, every child merits the careful solicitude with which one would approach the high altar at Notre-Dame de Reims. Parenting is a sober and exhilarating responsibility; another point of dissonance, a razor edge, a inflection point.

The take away: Life by definition is precarious.

A nativity story is appropriately concluded with music and poetry.  So, I’ll offer a few lines from Don Henley, and Glenn Frey’s The Last Resort.

Who will provide the grand design?
What is yours and what is mine?
‘Cause there is no more new frontier
We have got to make it here

We satisfy our endless needs and
justify our bloody deeds,
in the name of destiny
and in the name of God

And you can see them there,
On Sunday morning
They stand up and sing about
what it’s like up there
They call it paradise
I don’t know why
You call someplace paradise,
kiss it goodbye

Glenn Frey, rest in peace my brother.