Eight days after His birth the Holy Child shed His Blood for the first time, and received at His Circumcision the Name of JESUS, that Name which St. Bernard says is "honey in the mouth, music in the ear, joy in the heart;" so sweet to us, but costing Him so dear who took it for our sakes. Other children do not know what name is given them or why it is given. He knew perfectly all that He took upon Himself to do and to suffer that He might be our Jesus, our Saviour. He was afraid, for He was a true child, and shrank like every child from all that hurts. But He loved us so dearly that He offered Himself bravely for us in spite of the pain.

A month passed away, and then Mary and Joseph prepared to go up to Jerusalem for the double ceremony of Purification and Presentation required by the Jewish Law. Our Lord was Himself the Lawgiver, and, therefore, not bound by the Law; but He wanted to be like us as far as possible that He might help us more and be our Model in all things. He came to teach us all, and to teach Mary first, who was to profit most by His lessons. No one has ever imitated Him as she did, because no one has ever studied Him so closely. From the first we are told that she pondered in her heart all that happened to Him and all that He said and did. And then she tried to copy Him. When she saw Him submitting to laws to which He was not obliged, she joyfully did the same, and on the day of her Purification went up to the Temple to offer a sin-offering for herself and her Divine Child. The sacrifice of the rich was a lamb and a turtle-dove or young pigeon. Those who could not afford a lamb took two doves. Mary was poor and made the offering of the poor. But she made a rich Offering too, richer than that gorgeous Temple had ever seen.

The Law required the eldest son of each Jewish family to be presented to God and consecrated to Him. The babe was put into the arms of the priest and solemnly lifted up towards Heaven. Then it was bought back by the parents for five silver shekels, about four dollars in our money.

On the fortieth day, then, after His birth, Mary took the Holy Child in her arms, and folding her veil closely round herself and Him, set out for Jerusalem. Joseph carried the doves in a wicker basket, and the silver shekels.

Solomon's Temple was the most glorious building the world has ever seen. It was destroyed when the Jews were taken into captivity by Nabuchodonosor the Great. The Second Temple was built on their return from captivity, and, at the time of our Lord, it had been restored by the Herod whom history calls " the Great." He was a selfish, wicked man, whose one thought was to keep the throne of Judea which the Romans had given him, and to put to death anyone and everyone who might be a possible rival. His people feared and hated him, and it was to turn away their attention from his cruelty that he restored the Second Temple on so magnificent a scale, that in some respects at least it equalled or even surpassed the First.

Four Courts, open to the sky, rose one above the other on Mount Moriah. The lowest and largest was called the Court of the Gentiles, because it was open even to pagans. But no Gentile, under pain of death, might pass beyond; the rest of the Temple was reserved for the people of God. Fourteen steps led to the Court of the Women, so called because women might not go further except when they went with an offering for sacrifice into the Court of Israel. Highest of all was the Court of the Priests. In this enclosure stood the altar of holocausts, the brazen laver, and a building of snowy marble roofed with gold. It consisted of two rooms; one called the Holy Place contained the altar of shewbread, the altar of incense and the seven-branched candlestick.

Beyond this room, and separated from it by a rich curtain, was the chamber called the Holy of Holies. In Solomon's Temple this sanctuary held the Ark of the Covenant, containing the two Tables of the Law, Aaron's rod which had blossomed, and a pot of manna. After the destruction of the First Temple the Ark of the Covenant was lost, and in the Second Temple only a black stone marked its place within the Holy of Holies. Into this sacred spot none but the High Priest entered, and he but once a year on the Day of Atonement, when, after filling it with the smoke of incense, he went in with the blood of victims to pray God to forgive the sins of the people.

No place was so dear to a true Israelite as this Temple of the Lord. David cried out: "How lovely are Thy tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts, my soul longeth and fainteth for the Courts of the Lord."  To pray within these sacred Courts was their greatest happiness, and every Jewish boy looked forward with eagerness to his twelfth birthday, because thenceforth he would be bound to go up three times a year at the great feasts to worship there. When, after days of weary march, pilgrims climbed Mount Olivet, and from its summit caught sight of Mount Moriah and the golden roof of the Holy Place glittering in the sunshine, they forgot all the fatigues of the journey and broke out into loud songs of joy and praise.

Herod's Temple, it is true, lacked that which had made Solomon's so glorious. The Ark of the Covenant was gone, and the bright cloud above it which showed the Presence of God in the Holy of Holies. But had not Aggeus comforted his people by telling them that this Second Temple would be more hallowed than the First, because the Lord of the Temple would Himself visit and sanctify it?" Great shall be the glory of this last house more than of the first. The Desired of all nations shall come, and I will fill this house with glory, saith the Lord of Hosts."

These words of the prophet must have been in the thoughts of Joseph and Mary when, with the Infant Jesus, they presented themselves at the foot of the steps which led to the highest of the Temple Courts. A priest came down to receive their offering. They gave him the shekels, and then Mary laid her Child in his arms to be offered to God. This was no mere ceremony. The Divine Infant begged to suffer in our stead the punishment our sins deserved, and His offering was accepted. He was indeed given back to Mary, but as a little lamb to be kept for sacrifice later.

Having done all things according to the Law, Mary and Joseph were turning to leave the Temple when a venerable old man came forward, took the Holy Child into his arms, and, smiling upon Him, gazed long and earnestly upon the little face, whilst tears of joy trickled down his cheeks. Mary watched and wondered. Here, then, was another that knew her secret, and had come forward to worship the Hidden God. Such a smile of welcome, such a loving embrace! the old man might have known the Child and been expecting Him. And so in truth he had. For this was the aged Simeon who had been promised that he should not die until he had seen the Christ of the Lord. God always gives more than He promises. Simeon was to see the Child, and here he is, not seeing only, but holding and fondling Him, and knowing what is to befall Him.

But God expects us to trust Him; He often keeps us waiting for a long time. Day after day Simeon had come into the Temple praying and hoping; day after day he had gone away disappointed and a little weary of waiting. This day, just at the right time, the Holy Spirit put it into his mind to go there, just at the right moment made him lift his eyes and fix them on that Child in the young mother's arms. There was nothing about the Holy Family to attract notice—a poor couple presenting their first-born, bystanders would have said. But the aged priest saw by faith what others could not see, and in a transport of joy blessed God and said:
"Now Thou dost dismiss Thy servant, O Lord, according to Thy word in peace. Because my eyes have seen Thy salvation, which Thou hast prepared before the face of all peoples: a light to the revelation of the Gentiles, and the glory of Thy people Israel."

Then, turning to Mary, he went on in tones of sorrowful compassion: " Behold this Child is set for the fall and for the resurrection of many in Israel, and for a sign which shall be contradicted. And thy own soul a sword shall pierce, that out of many hearts thoughts may be revealed."

Joy and sorrow come together all through Mary's life. She has just had the happiness of presenting to God an offering worthy of Him. She has seen her Child welcomed as the Messiah. And now, suddenly and unexpectedly, all is changed. The day that began so brightly is dark with coming woe. He whom she loves more than her life is to be contradicted, and so cruelly used, that her soul will be pierced with sorrow. But because this terrible future is God's Will for her Son and for herself, she bows her head and says once more:  "Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done unto me according to His Will."

There is still another meeting to-day. Whether Anna, the aged prophetess, knew of the promise to Simeon and kept near him, hoping to have a share in his joy, we are not told, but we know that "she departed not from the Temple, by fasting and prayers serving night and day." And thus it happened that when he went forward and took the Child Jesus into his arms, she followed and joined the group, and not only adored in silence, but spoke of the Child to all around who were expecting the Redeemer. The only persons that we know of who preached and praised Him in that glorious Temple of His were this aged woman, at the beginning of His life, and the fearless children with their Hosannas six days before the end.
A printable file of this chapter as well as a coloring picture can be found below.

At last the time came when Joseph too was to know what the Angel of the Lord had declared unto Mary. An Angel, perhaps Gabriel again, came to tell him who she was that swept and washed and cooked in his little cottage, and went about her daily work as the simplest and lowliest of the women around. He told him, too, that her Child was to be called JESUS, because He would save His people from their sins.

Think with what new veneration Joseph looked upon Mary now, and what quiet, deep talks they had together. They pondered the words of holy Scripture; they studied the types; they put prophecy by the side of prophecy. Because their hearts were so pure, they saw better than the learned doctors of the Law the meaning of these types and prophecies, and they wondered more and more that they should have been chosen to be so near to Jesus when He came. That blessed Name at which St. Paul says every knee should bow, each had first heard from an Angel's lips. How reverently they pronounced it. To the world outside, the Promised One all were expecting was " the Messiah," or " the Christ;" to Mary and Joseph alone He was " JESUS."

Mary and Joseph knew from the prophecy of Micheas that Bethlehem, six miles south of Jerusalem, was to be the birthplace of the Messiah. This was four or five days' journey from Nazareth. When were they to go? And what reason could they give to their neighbors for suddenly quitting their home? And were they to quit it for good? The answer to these questions was : "Let us leave all to God; He is watching and guiding everything; He has come to our help always in the past." And so they waited in peaceful trust for a sign of His Will.

One day there was great excitement in the marketplace of Nazareth. A decree had gone out from Rome for the whole world to be enrolled. Augustus Caesar, the Roman Emperor, who ruled over the greater part of the known world, wanted to find out how many people he governed that he might know the extent of his power, and how much he could tax his subjects. The Jews, who were subject to him, were to go to the city or town which was the home of their ancestors, and there give in their names and take an oath of fidelity to Caesar.

Now the townsfolk of Nazareth were a rough, quarrelsome set of people, easily moved to deeds of violence. They had such a bad name among their countrymen that it was an insult to call anyone a Nazarene. This decree of Caesar filled them with indignation." Why should all men be disturbed and set on foot for his foolish whim, they cried. "O, that the Messiah would come quickly to free His people from the yoke of the wicked empire, and make all His enemies His footstool as David said!" However, they had to make the best of a command which they dared not disobey. A Roman official went the round of the town, came to the little house at the bottom of the street, found that Joseph was one of the family of David, and ordered him off to Bethlehem, David's city.

Here was the sign for which Mary and Joseph were waiting. What matter if the order were roughly given, if in going to Bethlehem they seemed to be doing Caesar's bidding only; God was arranging all things for them. Their preparations were soon made; the few things absolutely necessary put together; Mary seated on the ass; the door of the little house fastened behind them; and then Joseph took the bridle in one hand and his staff in the other, and they set out.

It was the worst season of the year, the road was bad, the weather cold, and they had no conveniences for the journey. Again and again Joseph led the ass into the ruts by the wayside to make room for some of David's wealthier descendants, well clad and well mounted, and, like their poor relations, bound for Bethlehem. Not many words were spoken. There was much for both to ponder, and there was much to suffer. Each day's halt brought fresh anxiety to Joseph, for there were no inns on the road, and the caravansaries, or khans, were devoid of every comfort. They were merely enclosed spaces surrounded by sheds; four bare walls and a mat were all the accommodation provided; food, cooking utensils, bedding, travellers had to bring with them, or do without.

The two journeyed slowly, and the evening of the fifth day was closing in, when, grey and dim on the hillside, the walls of Bethlehem came in sight. Party after party overtook them on the road, all hastening forward to reach shelter before nightfall. Joseph looked at Mary and urged on the tired beast. What could he do if the place should be full? At last they reached the khan, situated on the hill, a little way below the town. A glance round showed them they were too late. Every place was taken. Beasts and baggage crowded up the central square. On every side was shouting, disputing, the bustle and confusion of a crowd of travellers who had everything to do for themselves no one had time to attend to any business but his own, and Joseph's questions were roughly answered. He went back to Mary, whom he had left outside, and taking the bridle turned towards the city.

Night was falling as they passed within the walls, but there was light enough to see that it was full, full to overflowing. The better sort had long ago secured all that was to be had in the way of lodging. Poor people like themselves had little chance. Joseph searched diligently everywhere, but to no purpose. Wherever he saw a door open he hastened towards it; he pointed to Mary and held out his hand with the few coins he had left. But all in vain; everywhere the same answer:

"No room."

Up and down the streets they wandered that bitter night. No one would take her in. Joseph's tearful eyes looked up into her face. She was utterly worn out, but the smile on her lips told of a peace within that no trouble of this world could disturb. What was he to do? It was no use trying any more. He brushed his sleeve across his eyes and led the ass carefully down the hill again.

It was quite dark now, and he had to hold his lantern low to keep a safe footing. A little way out of Bethlehem a cave in a chalk hill opened upon the road. He said to Mary: "Let us go in here." The cave narrowed into an inner and smaller one, which seemed to be used as a stable, for an ox was there standing over a manger. They went in. Mary dismounted and knelt down in a corner to pray. Joseph hung up his lantern on the damp wall. Its flickering light showed the moisture trickling down on every side, and all the foulness of a neglected Eastern stable. This was the place which from all eternity God had chosen for the birthplace of His only Son. And here at midnight the Son of God was born; the Word was made Flesh and dwelt amongst us.

Mary bowed herself down to adore. Here was the Messiah she had so longed to see. Here was Jesus who by bitter pain was to save His people from their sins. Oh, how soon He had begun His work, she thought, as she looked upon the tiny limbs that lay trembling on the straw. Yes, this was He who, Gabriel said, should be great and should be called the Son of the Most High. A Roman judge, struck by His meek majesty, will say to Him one day: " Whence art Thou ? " All through the first Christmas night His Mother is asking Him this question, not because she does not know, but because she cannot get used to the wonderfulness of the answer. She knows He has come from the highest heaven, from the right hand of the Father to whom He is equal in all things. And still He is her very own Babe, crying for her, nestling to her like any other helpless child.

She adores Him as her God. And then she takes Him up in her arms, wraps Him up in swathing bands, and lays Him in the manger on a handful of straw, the best that Joseph can find about. She is grateful to the two animals which share it with Him and stand over Him warming Him a little with their breath. The words of Isaias come to her mind: "The ox knoweth his owner and the ass his master's crib, but Israel hath not known Me, and My people hath not understood." No one ever understood and pondered the Scriptures as she did, and the words of prophecy come to her one by one as she worships there. This tiny Child is the Leader of God's people whom Micheas said was to come out of Bethlehem; whom Isaias called " the Hidden God" of whom David said: "God shall come manifestly, our God shall come." She and Joseph kneel beside Him, and look, and look, and wonder at the great God become so small, and at the love that has brought Him—to this.

About a mile from Bethlehem and lying at the foot of the hill on which the little city stands is a field into which the shepherds of the neighbourhood led their flocks at evening. All day the sheep roamed in safety on the hills, but as night drew on, when wild beasts prowled about, they were brought down here. Eastern shepherds belong to the very lowest and poorest class of the people; their lives are hard, for they must guard their flocks all day and in all weathers, and lie out with them on the wet grass in the bleak nights of winter.

A company of shepherds was watching in this field when Mary and Joseph took refuge in the cave. And at midnight "behold an Angel of the Lord stood by them, and the brightness of God shone round about them, and they feared with a great fear. And the Angel said to them:

"Fear not, for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy that shall be to all the people. For this day is born to you a Saviour who is Christ the Lord in the city of David. And this shall be a sign unto you. You shall find the Infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger."

And suddenly there was with the Angel a multitude
of the heavenly army praising God and saying:

"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of good will."

And it came to pass after the Angels departed from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another:

"Let us go over to Bethlehem and let us see this word that is come to pass which the Lord hath showed to us." 

And they came with haste; and they found Mary and Joseph and the Infant lying in the manger. And all that heard wondered, and at those things that were told them by the shepherds."

Why were these men called before all others to worship the new-born Child? Because they were simple and docile, and patient under the many hardships of their rough lives. And because the Holy Child would teach us from the first this important lesson—that poverty is not a thing to be despised or to be ashamed of. It is a very painful thing, because it puts out of our reach the comforts, conveniences and amusements which make life pleasant. We care far too much for these things. An apple was too great a temptation for Adam and Eve, and nice things in the shape of food, dress, scents, bodily enjoyment of every kind, are often and often too much for us, their children. 'Not that pleasant things always lead us into sin. But a life of ease and self-indulgence, in which such things abound, is always a dangerous life, because the body never says: "It is enough." It is always ready to indulge itself at the expense of the soul, and to get what it wants it will not stop at sin. We have to distrust it and to be on the watch always. This is why the poor are safer by far than the rich if only they bear their privations patiently.

Our Lord came on earth to show us the safest way to heaven, and to show us in the best of ways, by example. It cost Him a great deal to teach us in this way all His life, but He never thought of cost when He could help us by it. And so He began at once, the very night He was born, to teach us the value of poverty, and to comfort the poor. How easily, after that midnight visit to the cave, the shepherds would bear cold, hunger, weariness, the want of nice, pretty, comfortable things such as the rich can get. "The little Babe Messiah had nothing of this kind," they would say to one another; "surely, then, we can do without."

And we who have comfortable homes, and pleasures in plenty, what lesson has the poor Babe of Bethlehem for us? This at least, that we must learn to honor the poor, who are most like Him, and to deny ourselves at times that we may have something to give to them in their need. We ought to be glad to serve them and work for them with our own hands, because they represent our Blessed Lord who will take as done to Himself whatever kindness or unkindness we show them. See now why the shepherds were called first to the cave on the first Christmas night.

A printable file of this chapter can be found below as well as a coloring picture.

God often tells His secrets to His friends. He bade Gabriel tell Mary of the happiness his good news had brought to Zachary and Elizabeth, and now He Himself tells Elizabeth of the dignity that had come to Mary.

The two were cousins, and Mary thought it would be
kind to go to Ain-Karim to visit her relatives and make herself useful in the house. She would much rather have stayed at home just now, but she did not listen to likes and dislikes; when God put a good thought into her mind, or wanted a service of her, she obeyed at once. And so, without considering it beneath her to serve others, or lay her hands to household work, she set off in haste on her long journey.  No one, not even Joseph whom she loved so tenderly, had been told of Gabriel's visit, for Mary disliked notice as much as some young girls seek it, and she was afraid of honour and praise. One of the prophets had said: "My secret to myself, my secret to myself." This was Mary's rule all her life through. We are not told whether she went alone, but it is most unlikely. If Joseph did not go with her, she probably joined some of her relatives who were on their way to the Holy City. At last she came upon the rising ground of Judea, and, climbing the rugged side of a mountain, found herself at the door of Zachary's home. Elizabeth was standing on the threshold as if expecting someone. Mary hastened towards her, and saluted her with loving words. But what was her surprise when the aged woman, instead of returning her embrace, sank on her knees and cried out: "Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. And whence is this to me that the Mother of my Lord should come to me ?"

Her secret, then, was known. God, Himself, must have told Elizabeth. Mary's heart was full, full to overflowing. She could not keep back its burst of joy and praise: "My soul doth magnify the Lord," she said, " and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. Because He hath regarded the humility of His handmaid; for behold from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. Because He that is mighty hath done great things to me, and holy is His name. And His mercy is from generation unto generations to them that fear Him. He hath shewed might in His arm; He hath scattered the proud in the conceit of their heart. He hath put down the mighty from their seat and hath exalted the humble. He hath filled the hungry with good things, and the rich He hath sent empty away. He hath received Israel His servant, being mindful of His mercy, As He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his seed for ever."

Elizabeth listened in silence and in awe. She knew by heart the triumphant hymns of God's servants in the past, but there was not one like this. Mary's song was the sweetest earth had ever heard. It sank into the heart of the aged saint. It sounds through the Church for ever. Every day it is on the lips of thousands of her children. It teaches us many lessons, and among them this—that it is not proud and wrong to know that we have gifts of God entrusted to us, gifts of fortune, gifts of body or of mind. There is no harm in knowing we are well off, or good-looking, or clever, or kindhearted.
Harm comes in when we forget that whatever good we have is the gift of God and that we shall have to account to Him for it, and that in the meantime we have to use it in His service who gave it. Mary understood as no other will ever do what "great things " God had done for her, things so great that all generations should call her blessed. But all the glory was His. Of herself she was nothing, and had nothing. She rejoiced in God her Saviour as we do, only more, because He had done more for her. She magnified the Lord as we should do, because He had looked down on the humility, that is, the littleness of His handmaid. It is no humility, then, to pretend not to know what God has done for us. The really humble, like the grateful poor, are quick to acknowledge kindness and to show themselves thankful. Gratitude and humility go hand in hand. There is no better shield against vanity and self-conceit than Mary's words : "He who is mighty hath done great things for me;" and when our hearts are stirred to praise God for His goodness to us, we shall find none more fitting than those of her beautiful Magnificat.

For three months Mary stayed with her cousin, and all that time God's richest blessings were poured out upon the family of Zachary, because of her presence there. At the first sound of her voice the Holy Ghost had so inspired Elizabeth that she reechoed Gabriel's words: "Blessed art thou among women," adding to them the praise of Mary's Son: "Blessed is the fruit of thy womb." When we repeat these words in the Hail Mary, it will help us to remember the reverence with which they were said by an Archangel and a saint at the feet of her whom Elizabeth called " the Mother of my Lord."
A Printable file of this chapter as well as a coloring picture can be found below. 

Let us go back now to that night in March and see Mary kneeling in her little room in prayer. Her heart is full, fuller to-night than ever with the thought that fills it always. When, when will He come? Why does He delay so long? Oh, that He would rend the heavens and come down! Her lamp burns low as she prays on. How reverent she is, how still. Her strong prayer is moving God Himself.

See ! See ! in the midst of a dazzling light, not of this world, an Angel stands before her. He comes near, and, kneeling, salutes her: " Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou amongst women!"

What glorious praise, and from one so high and holy! For this is Gabriel, one of the seven who stand before God. How will she answer him ? There is no answer. A blush, a troubled look is on her beautiful face as she thinks within herself what manner of salutation this may be. She knows we cannot always trust those who speak to us in words of praise, and surely such words as these are not for her. Is this a messenger from God ? She will be silent till he speaks again.

The Angel sees her trouble and says: "Fear not, Mary, for thou hast found grace with God. Behold, thou shalt bring forth a Son, and thou shalt call His name Jesus. He shall be great and shall be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God shall give unto Him the throne of David His father, and He shall reign in the house of Jacob forever, and of His kingdom there shall be no end."

See her listening, coming to understand that she, the little handmaid of the Lord, is to be the Mother of the Messiah. Does she break forth into words of thanksgiving and praise ? No, she has a question to ask, for she is not sure jet what God wants. Long ago she promised to belong only to Him, to be His little handmaid or servant all her life. She does not know if she can do this and be the Mother of the Messiah as well, and she will not break her promise to God for anything. She is quite calm and mistress of herself. Gabriel has told her that her Son shall be the Son of the Most High, that of His Kingdom there shall be no end—and she is not excited or overjoyed. She knows from the prophecies that the Messiah is to be a Man of Sorrows, and that His Mother will have to share His pains—and she is not frightened. All she wants is to know the Will of God.

The great Archangel beholds her with profoundest admiration. There is no holiness in heaven to equal this. He thought he knew how far the love of God and forgetfulness of self can go, but the little Maiden of Nazareth has taken him by surprise. He understands now the full meaning of those reverent words which God Himself put upon his lips: "Hail, full of grace!" He bows lower before her—see how low!

This is he who in words of majesty rebuked the aged priest of the Temple. But in Mary's presence, what a difference! He speaks to her as to one far above him; he waits while she ponders what he has said; he solves her doubts; he waits for her reply.

When at length she is satisfied that it is God's Will she should be the Mother of the Messiah, and that He wants her consent, thinking neither of the dignity nor of the pain this will bring upon her, she bows her head and says: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done unto me according to thy word."

And the Word was made Flesh and dwelt amongst us.

And the Angel returned to God who sent him ; and all Heaven was made glad that night.

A printable file of this chapter is available below.