That, and there’s the manger.

The shepherds in Luke are told that a Savior has been born in Bethlehem. THE Christ. The Messiah promised by the prophets has been born.

All the promises passed on to Israel… supposedly from God. Now… coming true.

And to prove it, the angels challenge the shepherds to find him in a resting area for livestock. The King of kings, wrapped in a probably uncomfortable and worn blanket, breast feeding from a virgin, planted next to a cow. You’ve seen the nativity scenes. Occupy that.

There’s a lot to this story that at first glance is far fetched. One stretch that stands out is that we read of frequent visitations by high ranking angels, insistent that the humans involved behave a certain way. Zechariah (John the Baptist’s father), for instance, is forced into silence by the angel until he agrees to name his son John, instead of Jr. This, of course, is a punishment for not believing the angel (Gabriel) when he was first promised that his wife, “advanced in years” as the good husband puts it, would produce the son in the first place. Mary is visited by Gabriel later on, and is told that though she has never had sex, she will become pregnant when the power of the Most High “overshadows” her. When she points out the obviousness of her lack of sexuality, the angel does not silence her, but insists that “nothing will be impossible for God.”

“Will be”?

Finally, after Mary finds herself noticeably pregnant (presumably months after her visit from Gabriel), Joseph, described as a just and good man, determines to divorce his cheating fiance privately, so as not to bring her (or him?) shame.

You’re telling me she never told him about the visit from Gabriel?

Or maybe she did, and he just didn’t believe her at first. Imagine your wife tells you she’s pregnant, but has not cheated on you. To top it, imagine she claims that God is the baby’s daddy!

In spite of his unbelief, when the angel (unnamed this time) visits Joseph, the angel does not silence him like he did to Zechariah, but insists that the baby in Mary’s womb is in fact the literal son of God…

It’s really at this point, beyond the hyper-spiritual dialogue and angelic interactions, where we see why this story is so approachable, so loved, so humane, so noteworthy in religious evolution. Joseph and Mary, enlightened now that Mary holds within her a child bred from God, do what most of us wish we could do in that situation, but hardly would: they keep it to themselves, and go on with their lives… They didn’t make much of a fuss about it, though many around them did. They didn’t insist on their own rights and privileges; Joseph is a non-character by the time Jesus is an adult! In our time, we are surrounded by opportunities to make ourselves the center of everything, triumphing every victory or broadcasting every sorrow on some kind of social network – but Joseph and Mary distinguish themselves in this story because they rise above the fame that certainly could have gone their way.

If Jesus is, as he is described later on by Biblical writers, as the “Second Adam” for the coda and second chance he represents in human history, Mary is the “Second Eve” for purifying the role of the demonized woman in the Old Testament. She redeems feminism by being strong, bold, favored by God (but please note, she never asks for it). It doesn’t seem like she needs attention from the outside world or from Joseph – she is independent and is with Jesus by her choice until his death. Is it any wonder why she is revered so strongly by Catholics around the world?

With a lot to draw from this story, perhaps the most useful is to tie up our thoughts on Zechariah. John the Baptist, his son, would play a significant role in Jesus’ life later on, so his birth is interwoven with the telling of Jesus’. What is curious is how the angel treats Zechariah’s lack of faith compared to an equitable lack of faith demonstrated by both Mary and Joseph upon hearing the news of their child’s unlikely birth. Zechariah is forcibly silenced until he names his son John. When he does offer this name, the Bible describes that in a moment he is “filled with the Holy Spirit,” breaks his silence and exclaims in a frenzy God’s provision and fulfilled promise over Israel.

Now being filled with the Spirit takes on many meanings in the Scripture, and has been given many meanings through the history of Christianity – ranging from a mere belief that the Bible is inspired by God to the more radical and spontaneous speaking of unfamiliar tongues. But here in the Christmas story, it takes its most pure and most approachable meaning: a breaking of silence, a resounding of hope, and a fulfilling of promise.

That’s the Christmas story. That’s what Jesus meant to the world he arrived in, and perhaps the world we find ourselves in today. Before this momentous event in religious history, sacrifice represented what humanity could offer the gods; but with Jesus, a new concept was introduced: sacrifice became about what God offered humanity.

Zechariah represents all of us. Society. Personally. In our friendships and relationships. We struggle often to find balance, peace, sense of all of it. We’re silenced by our own walls. The birth of Jesus represents something new. A fresh start. A new chance. When we acknowledge it, we’re “filled” with something new. Something exciting. Something like hope restored.

Do you believe this? Merry Christmas.