Editorial: What was Mary thinking on the way to Bethlehem?

According to Google Maps, the walking trip from Nazareth to Bethlehem is more than 90 miles. For comparison, Austin to San Antonio is about an 80-mile drive.

Depending on the time of year and travel conditions, Mary and Joseph could make as much as 20 miles a day. The trip would have taken five days at that rate—five grueling days, especially when you’re nine-months pregnant. There would have been plenty of time to think.

What was Mary thinking on the way to Bethlehem?

On Mary’s mind

Nine months prior, an angel told Mary she was going to carry and give birth to “the Son of the Most High,” “the Son of God” (Luke 1:30-35). Besides the position this put Mary in among her local community, the angel’s announcement put her in the center of the political unrest of her time.

N.T. Wright describes the situation in Simply Jesus, using the metaphor of a perfect storm. Rome aspired for world dominance and imposed its will everywhere it went, including Judea. The Jews, longing for the glory days of Israel, anticipated the fulfilment of God’s promises of their best days still to come.

On the Roman front: Augustus Caesar, the one who sent Mary and Joseph on their 90-mile errand, was known to all as “the son of god,” having declared his father—Julius Caesar—to be divine.

What must Mary have thought about carrying a baby declared divine—the Son of God—by none other than God’s messenger? And that, while she traveled 90 miles on the self-proclaimed “son of god’s” errand—ready to give birth the whole way? What did it mean to Mary to be the bearer of Rome’s rival king? Or more, Rome’s rival God?

On the Jewish front: The best days to come required the downfall of one evil empire after another. First was Egypt. Babylon, Persia and the Greeks were later. As Mary and Joseph made their way to Bethlehem, it was Rome. Would the baby Mary carried be the one to throw off Rome?

The world’s hopes and fears intersected in Mary’s womb.

What must she have thought about carrying a child who would sit on “the throne of his father David” and would “reign over Jacob’s descendants forever” (Luke 1:32-33)?

Mary’s first child sure was going to be a doozy. Did she think about any of that?

Or was Mary more concerned with how uncomfortable she was, whether walking or riding? With how hungry she was? With hoping she would deliver somewhere suitable? With needing to go to the bathroom?

On Joseph’s mind

If it were today, I think I can get in Joseph’s head better than Mary’s. If my first child was heralded by angels and due in nine months, I would think about our financial future. The stock market looks good—most days. The job market looks weird. Inflation looks horrible.

If I was a father-to-be, I would wonder how I will provide for my family. Or, at least, how I’ll be able to pay the medical bills I’m about to incur.

I would think about the current pandemic. I would hope for a safe pregnancy, delivery and hospital stay—assuming, of course, the delivery will happen in a hospital and not, say, in a stable.

I would think about where we would live. I would wonder what we will have to navigate socially and politically, and if there is anywhere free of such divides. Seems unlikely.

I know during the nine months, I would wonder what kind of world my child will grow up in. I would think about all the strife in the world and wonder if my child will see the end of racism, war, hunger, poverty, violence, fear. I would hope the angel was right. And I would wish I had done more to give my child a better world.

If it took me five days or five hours to drive my laboring wife to the hospital, would any of this cross my mind on the way? Or would I be overwhelmed with adrenaline, concerned only with getting my wife to the hospital in time? Hoping her water didn’t break on the way?

On our minds

Two thousand years later, the story’s the same; only the actors are different. Many aspire to be “the son of god,” and they all want our allegiance. Will we give it to them?

We’d like something as unmistakable as an angel to tell us not to be afraid. We’d like to know we’ve found favor with God, especially when we’re running other gods’ errands. We’d like at least one person’s word never to fail. Will we find any of this among modern “sons of god?”

Will we consciously or unconsciously bow to the autocrats, the fearmongers, the ultra-wealthy—these “sons of god” of our time? Will our hearts and minds, our thoughts and feelings be captivated by these “sons of god” or by the Son of God?

I don’t know what deep thoughts Mary had on her way to Bethlehem. I don’t know how far into the future beyond giving birth she wondered. I am certain she was aware of the stakes. I imagine at least one thought echoed in her mind all the way: “Do not be afraid, Mary.”

Maybe between contractions, hunger pains and nature calling loudly, Mary remembered: “You have found favor with God. … No word from God will ever fail” (Luke 1:30, 37).

Maybe Mary smiled occasionally, knowing at least one thing Augustus didn’t. When she left home, her family numbered two. Before Caesar’s count was finished, her family would number three. And what an addition the third would make!

Eric Black is the executive director, publisher and editor of the Baptist Standard. He can be reached at eric.black@baptiststandard.com or on Twitter at @EricBlackBSP.