Chapter 1

A Wonderful Night

By JAMES H. SNOWDEN

Decorations by Maud and Miska Petersham

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Nights differ as much as days. Some nights have witnessed great events and been charged with ethical significance in the history of the world. One such night stands forth crowned with supreme distinction, the night that heard angels sing, and was starred with the Birth of Bethlehem. This book treats the various events and steps that led to the central wonder and interprets the story in terms of its significance today and invests it with poetic light.

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THE MACMILLAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS :: NEW YORK

[Transcriber's note: The above text is taken from the front flap of the dust jacket.]

A Wonderful Night

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICHAGO · DALLAS ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO

MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA MELBOURNE

THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. TORONTO

A Wonderful Night

An Interpretation of Christmas

By James H. Snowden

Decorations by Maud and Miska Petersham

The Macmillan Company Publishers MCMXIX

Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1919.

Contents

CHAPTER

I. An Age of Wonders

II. Preparation for the Event

III. A Wonderful Fulfillment of Prophecy

IV. An Historical Event

V. Simplicity of the Narrative

VI. The Town of Bethlehem

VII. The Wonderful Night Draws Near

VIII. The Birth

IX. No Room in the Inn

X. Angel Ministry

XI. Angels and Shepherds

XII. The Concert in a Sheep Pasture

XIII. The First Visitors to Bethlehem

XIV. The Star and the Wise Men

XV. A Frightened King

XVI. An Impotent Destroyer

XVII. Splendid Gifts

XVIII. Was a Child the Best Christmas Gift to the World?

XIX. A World Without Christmas

XX. Has the Christmas Song Survived the World War?

XXI. The Light of the World

O Little town of Bethleham, How still we see thee lie! Above thy deep and dreamless sleep The silent stars go by: Yet in thy dark streets shineth The everlasting Light; The hopes and fears of all the years Are met in thee to-night.

--Phillips Brooks.

I. An Age of Wonders

[Transcriber's note: The first letter of each chapter is in the form of an illustrated dropped capital.]

We live in an age of wonders. Great discoveries and startling events crowd upon us so fast that we have scarcely recovered from the bewildering effects of one before another comes, and we are thus kept in a constant whirl of excitement. The heavens are full of shooting stars, and while watching one we are distracted by another. So frequent is this experience that our nerves almost refuse to respond to the shock of a new sensation. We are no longer surprised at surprises. The marvelous has become the commonplace, and the unexpected is what we now expect.

Yet we are not to suppose that our age is the only one that has had its wonders. Other times had theirs also, only these old-time wonders have become familiar to us and ceased to be wonderful; but in their day they were marvelous, and some of them equalled if they did not surpass any wonders we have witnessed. The Great War was the most cataclysmic eruption that has ever convulsed the world, but it was not more revolutionary and sensational in the twentieth century than the French Revolution was in the eighteenth and the Reformation was in the sixteenth century. The discovery of America in the fifteenth century created immense excitement and was relatively a more colossal and startling occurrence than anything that has happened since.

The telescope and the Copernican theory were as great achievements in their day as the spectroscope and the nebular hypothesis are in our day. The most useful inventions and the most marvelous products of the human brain are not the railway and telegraph after all. The art of printing, which infinitely multiplies thought and sows it in the very air and every morning photographs the world anew, is a more useful invention and in its day was a great wonder. Still farther back, hidden in the mists of antiquity, lies the invention of the alphabet that is even more useful and marvelous. It is when we get back to the oldest tools, the hammer and plough and loom, that we come to inventions of the greatest fundamental utility, and we could better afford to give up all our modern magic machines than to part with these.

The oldest literature is ever the ripest, richest and best, and Homer and Shakespeare overtop all our modern writers as the Alps overshadow the hills lying around their feet. What modern preacher can compare in eloquence and power with Paul and Isaiah? Nature is ever full of new wonders, and yet the grass was as green and the mountains as grand and the golden nets and silver fringes of the clouds were as resplendent in the days of Abraham as they are to-day. We are the heirs of the ages, but wonder and wisdom were not born with us, and with us they will not die.

Where must we go to find the greatest wonder? Not to the scientist's discoveries and the inventor's cunning devices: the greatest marvel is not material but spiritual; and to find it we must not look into the present or future, but go back to the first Christmas morning. On that morning the Judean shepherds had a story to tell which all they that heard it wondered at and which is still the wonder and song of the world. The birth of Jesus is absolutely the greatest event of all time. Whatever view is taken of him he has become the Master of the world. Christ has created Christendom, silently lifting its moral level as mountains are heaved up against the sky from beneath. The coming of such a unique and powerful personality into the world is an infinitely greater wonder than the discovery of a new continent or the blazing out of a new star in the sky.

II. Preparation for the Event

Near events may have remote causes. The river that sweeps by us cannot be explained without going far back to hidden springs in distant hills. The huge wave that breaks upon the ocean shore may have had its origin in a submarine upheaval five thousand miles away.

A wide circle of causes converged towards this birth; all the spokes of the ancient world ran into this hub. When Abraham started west as an emigrant out of Babylonia, "not knowing whither he went," he was unconsciously traveling towards Bethlehem. Jewish history for centuries headed towards this culmination; this was the matchless blossom that bloomed out of all that growth from Abraham to Joseph and Mary. Priest and prophet, tabernacle and temple, gorgeous ritual and streaming altar, sacrifice and psalm, kingdom and captivity, triumph and tragedy were all so many roots to this tree. These were the education and discipline of the chosen people, preparing them as soil out of which the Messiah could spring. The great ideas of the unity and sovereignty, spirituality and righteousness of God, the sinfulness of sin and the need of an atonement were in flaming picture language emblazoned before the people and burnt into their conscience. Christ could do nothing until these ideas were rooted in the world.

Pagan achievements, also, "the glory that was Greece and the grandeur that was Rome," were roots to this same tree of preparation for the coming of Christ, though they knew it not. Greece with all the glories of its philosophy and art showed that the world never could be saved by its own wisdom; and all the laws and legions of Rome were equally impotent to lift it out of the ditch of sin. Neither a brilliant brain nor a mailed fist can save a lost world. Yet both Greece and Rome made positive contributions to the preparation for Christ. Greece fashioned a marvelous instrument for propagating the gospel in its highly flexible and expressive language, and Rome reduced the world to order and hushed it into peace and thus turned it into a vast amphitheater in which the gospel could be heard. Greece also contributed philosophy that threw light on the gospel, and Rome gave it a rich inheritance of law.

God thus set this event in a mighty framework of preparation. He got the world ready for Christ before he brought Christ to the world. He was in no haste and took plenty of time before he struck the great hour. The harvest must lie out in the showers and sunshine for weeks and months before it can ripen into golden wheat, and the meteor must shoot through millions of invisible miles for one brief flash of splendor. The centuries seemed slow-footed during that long and dreary stretch from Abraham to Mary, "but when the fulness of time was come, God sent forth his Son."

III. A Wonderful Fulfillment of Prophecy

This birth was a wonderful fulfillment of prophecy. The Jews had cherished the hope of the promised Messiah for thousands of years. Through all their national vicissitudes, enslavement in Egypt, wanderings in, the wilderness, establishment and growth in the promised land, internal division and external captivity in Babylon, restoration, and final subjection to the Romans, this hope burned on the horizon of their future as a fixed star. It was this that ever led them on and held them together and made it impossible to break or subdue their spirit. This was the dawn that filled all their dark and bitter days with the rosy glow of hope.

Yet the Messiah came not, and as the centuries slowly rolled along they must have grown weary and at times have doubted. Sceptics scoffed, "Where is the sign of his coming?" But the great heart of the nation remained true to its trust, while prophets caught glimpses of the coming glory and white-headed, trembling old saints prayed that they might live a little longer and not die before he came. Perhaps this hope was never at a lower ebb than when the Roman power was ruthlessly grinding the nation down into the dust. But suddenly at this darkest hour a blinding light burnt through the floor of heaven and shepherds ran about announcing that the Messiah was born! Who can imagine the surprise, the wonder, the overwhelming amazement this news created? How many were eager to go to Bethlehem and see this thing which had come to pass! And when it was found to be true, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy and old men blessed God and said, "Lord, now lettest thou thy servants depart in peace."

Yet why should they have wondered at God's faithfulness in keeping his promise, as though he could ever have forgotten it or failed to bring it to pass? Why should we ever wonder at the faithfulness of God? Doubtless in some degree because of our human infirmity. Our sense of unity with God and trust in him have been weakened by sin until we are ready to doubt him as though he were one of ourselves. His promises also are so far-reaching and great, splendid and blessed, they so far surpass our thoughts of wisdom and mercy, that, even though they have been repeated to us until we are familiar with them, when they are fulfilled we wonder at the faithfulness that will bring so great things to pass.

IV. An Historical Event

The story starts with the place and time of the Saviour's birth. Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of Herod the king. There are many myths and legends floating through the world that are often beautiful and useful, but they hang like gorgeous clouds in the air and are ever changing their shape and place. They are growths of the imagination and lack historic roots and reality. They are chary of names and dates and hide their origin in far-away mists. However powerfully and pathetically they may reflect the needs and hopes of the human heart, they are unsubstantial as dreams and afford no foundation on which to build our faith. Heathen religions are generally woven of this legendary stuff. The Greek and Roman divinities were all mythical. But the scientific spirit has swept these imaginary deities out of our sky and rendered belief in them impossible. Our religion must be rooted in reality and cannot live in clouds, however beautifully they may be colored. We refuse hospitality to anything but fact. Give us names and dates, is our demand.

The Bible responds to this requirement. Christianity is an historical religion. The gospel narrative begins with no such indefinite statement as "Once upon a time," but it starts in Bethlehem of Judea. The town is there and we can stand on the very spot where Jesus was born. The narrative places the time of his birth, in the days of Herod the king. History knows Herod; there is nothing mythical about this monster of iniquity. These statements are facts that no keenest critic or scholarly unbeliever can plausibly dispute. So the gospel sets its record in the rigid frame of history; it roots its origin down in the rocky ledge of Judea. Christ was not born in a dream, but in Bethlehem. We are not, then, building our faith on a myth, but on immovable matters of fact. This thing was not done in a corner, but in the broad day, and it is not afraid of the geographer's map and the historian's pen. The Christmas story is not another beautiful legend in the world's gallery of myths, but is sober and solid reality; its story is history. Our religion is truth, and we will worship at no other altar.

V. Simplicity of the Narrative

Though surcharged with such tremendous meaning, carrying a heavier burden of news than was ever before committed to human language, yet the simplicity with which the story is told is one of the literary marvels of the gospels. This event has inspired poets and painters and has been embroidered and illuminated with an immense amount of ornamentation. Genius has poured its splendors upon it and tried to give us some worthy conception of the scene. But the evangelists had no such purpose or thought, and their story is told with that charming artlessness that is perfect art. They were not men of genius, but plain men, mostly tax collectors and fishermen untrained in the schools, with no thought of skill or literary art. Yet all the stylists and artists of the world stand in wonder before their unconscious effort and supreme achievement. No attempt at rhetoric disfigures their record, not a word is written for effect, but the simple facts are allowed to tell their own eloquent and marvelous tale. The inspired writers mixed no imagination with their verities, for they had no other thought than to tell the plain truth; and this gives us confidence in the trustworthiness of their narrative. These men did not follow cunningly devised fables when they made known unto us the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, for they were eye-witnesses of his glory.

VI. The Town of Bethlehem

The land of Palestine is divided from north to south by a central range of mountains which runs up through this narrow strip of country like a spinal column. About five miles south of Jerusalem a ridge or spur shoots off from the central range towards the east. On the terminal bluff of this ridge lies the town of Bethlehem. On the west it is shut in by the plateau, and on the east the ridge breaks steeply down into the plain. Vineyards cover the hillsides with green and purple, and wheatfields wave in the valleys. In the distant east, across the Dead Sea, the mountains of Moab are penciled in dark blue against the sky.

At the present time the town has eight thousand inhabitants. Its flat-roofed houses are well built and its narrow streets are clean. It is a busy place, its chief industry being the manufacture of souvenirs of olive wood which are sold throughout the Christian world. Its principal church is the Church of the Nativity, which is built over a cave that is one of the most sacred and memorable spots on the globe. It is believed that this cave is the place where Christ was born, and a silver star inlaid in the stone floor is intended to mark the exact spot. It was then used as the stable of the adjoining inn, and in its stone manger the infant Jesus may have been laid.

At the time of this event Bethlehem was a mere village of a few hundred people. It might have been thought that Jerusalem, the historic metropolis and proud capital of the country, the chosen city of God and seat of the temple and center of worship, a city beautiful for situation, magnificent in its architecture, sacred in its associations and world-wide and splendid in its fame, should have been honored with this supreme event in the history of the Jews. But an ancient prophet, while noting its comparative insignificance, had yet put his finger on this tiny point on the map and pronounced upon it a blessing that caused it to blaze out like a star amidst its rural hills. "But thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel; whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting." And so proud Jerusalem was passed by, and this supreme honor was bestowed upon the humble village.

Great men, as a rule, are not born in cities. They come up out of obscure villages and hidden nooks and corners. They originate closer to nature than city-born men and seem to spring from the very soil. The most noted birthplace in Scotland is that of Burns: it is a humble cottage with a thatched roof and a stable in one end of it. The most celebrated birthplace in England is that of Shakespeare, and again it is a plain cottage in a country village. Lincoln was born in a log hut in the wilds of Kentucky, Mohammed was the son of a camel driver, and Confucius the son of a soldier. The city must go to the country for its masters, and the world draws its best blood and brains from the farm. It was in accordance with this principle that the Saviour of the world should be born, not in a city and palace, but in a country village, and that his first bed should be, not a downy couch, but a slab of stone.

VII. The Wonderful Night Draws Near

"Now it came to pass in those days, there went out a decree from Cæsar Augustus, that all the world should be enrolled." This is the point at which the orderly and scholarly Luke opens his account of the birth of our Lord. It seems like going a long way off from and around to the end in view. But there are no isolated facts and forces in the world and all things work together. When we see providence start in we never can tell where it is going to come out. If God is about to bless us, he may start the chain of causation that shall at length reach us in some far-off place or land; or if he is about to save a soul in China he may start with one of us in the contribution we make to foreign missions. Cæsar Augustus, master of the world, from time to time ordered a census to be taken of the empire that he might know its resources and reap from it a richer harvest of taxes. It was probably between the months of December and March, B.C. 5-4, that such a census was being taken in the province of Syria.

In accordance with ancient Jewish usage, all citizens repaired to the tribe and village from which they were descended, and were there enrolled. In the town of Nazareth in the north lived Joseph, a village carpenter, and Mary, his espoused wife, who though a virgin was great with child, having been overshadowed by the Holy Spirit and the mystery having been revealed to her and her betrothed husband. They were both descended from the royal line of David, and therefore to Bethlehem they must go. With us such a journey of eighty miles would mean no more than stepping on a railway car at nine o'clock in the morning and stepping off at noon. But with them it meant a toilsome journey on foot of several days. Slowly they wended their way southward, led on by the irresistible hand of Cæsar, far away on his throne. The ancient Hebrew prophecy of Micah and the imperial decree of Cæsar thus marvelously fitted into each other and worked together. Mary must have known of this prophecy, and we know not with what a sense of mystery and fear and joy she drew near to the predicted place where the Messiah was to be born.

Bethlehem sits like a crown on its rocky ridge. At length its walls and towers loomed in the distance, and then presently up the steep road climbed the carpenter and his espoused wife and passed through the gate into the village. When they came to the inn, it was already crowded with visitors, driven thither by the decree of Cæsar that had set all Palestine in commotion. In connection with the inn, generally the central space of its four-square inclosure, but probably in this case a cave in the limestone rock, was a stable, or place for the camels and horses and cattle of the guests. Among these oriental people it was (and is) no uncommon thing for travelers, when the chambers of the inn were fully occupied, to make a bed of straw and spend the night in this place. In this stable, possibly the very cave where now stands the Church of the Nativity, Mary and Joseph found lodgings for the night. It was not a mark of degradation or social inferiority for them to do this, though it was an indication of their meager means, as wealthy visitors would doubtless have found better accommodations.

VIII. The Birth

In that cave Mary brought forth her first-born son; and as there appears to have been no woman's hand there to minister to her, she herself wrapped the new-born babe in swaddling clothes; and as there was no other cradle or bed to receive it, she laid the child in the trough from which the camels were fed. This is all we know of what took place on that memorable night from which the history of the Christian world is now dated. The apocryphal gospels, legends that afterwards grew up, fill the chamber with supernal light so that visitors had to shade their eyes from the splendor of the child; and the painters portray the holy child and mother with halos of glory around their heads. But this is all imagination and myth. Jesus was born as other human beings are born, and looked just like a human child. No one seeing him could have guessed that a unique birth had ruptured the continuity of nature and brought a divine Man into the world. There was no glory streaming from his person, and no spectacular display of pageantry and pomp such as attended the birth of a Cæsar. The Son of Man did not come with observation, but stole into the world silently and unseen. If we could have gazed upon the Christ-child as it lay in its manger, we would have been disappointed and thought that nothing extraordinary had happened. But a great event rarely seems great at the time; long centuries may elapse before it looms into view and is seen in its central place as the axis of history. Outward size and circumstance do not measure inward power and possibility. God brought only a child into the world that night, but in that Child were sheathed omnipotent wisdom and mercy and might to save the world.

IX. No Room in the Inn