Something was happening in the land of Judah, and word of it reached the descendants of King David living in exile.
The Jewish people had revolted against their Greek overlords. They had regained control of the Jerusalem Temple. The new kings, known as the Hasmoneans, began to recover the territories lost over the centuries. The Law of Moses was now the law of the land.
In faraway Babylon, the news incited lively discussions. Could this be the long-awaited time of the Messiah, the Christ?
The clan of King David had lived there in exile for hundreds of years. They had no living memory of their ancestral home. But they had carefully preserved the books of their genealogy. From generation to generation they had handed on the promises of the prophets — that a shoot would arise from the stump of Jesse; that a ruler would come from David’s city, Bethlehem.
The Judean government put out word that Jews in the dispersion were welcome to return. Large groups within the clan of King David packed their households into wagons and onto beasts. They carefully stowed the books of genealogies. Then they launched their caravan upon a journey of almost 700 miles.
According to today’s method of calculating dates, the year was approximately 100 B.C.
These returnees acquired two large tracts in lower Galilee — land that had been uninhabited for almost 600 years. They established two villages there and gave both names strongly associated with the anticipated Messiah.
One they named Kochba, the “Village of the Star,” evoking the oracle of the prophet Balaam: “I see him, but not now; I behold him, but not nigh: a star shall come forth out of Jacob” (Num 24:17).
The other site they named Nazareth, the “Village of the Shoot”: “There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse” (Isa 11:1).
The family of David was intensely aware of their mission in history. They kept careful records. They taught the promises to their children in traditional songs. The residents of Nazareth and Kochba were alive to the possibility that one of them could bear the Messiah into the world.
Later in that century, in Nazareth, a family of craftsmen and builders gave birth to a boy and named him Joseph. His name, like that of his birthplace, reflected the hope of his people. Joseph, in Hebrew, means “God will increase.”
By then the land was ruled by a new king: Herod, a genius at diplomacy and architecture who was also a murderous madman. Some people claimed he was the Messiah, and he styled himself so. He had no tolerance for competition.
In Nazareth, the sons of David focused quietly on their daily work. In all the historical records that have survived, Joseph says not a word. He lived a life that his neighbors judged righteous. His labors earned him the title “carpenter.”
He waited, as his family had done for centuries. But his waiting wasn’t passive. With every beam he measured and cut, he was preparing the way for the Messiah. Through his everyday life in the village and the home, he was preparing the way for the Messiah.
No one in the palace or Temple did this more effectively than Joseph. In all the earth, only Joseph’s neighbor Mary was more faithful.
Yet he spent no money doing this. He drew no one’s attention. He worked quietly at his craft, and for the right reasons. His work was service to God and neighbor. His work was prayer.
In that quiet life, Joseph embodied Advent. He showed us how we should prepare for Christmas.
MIKE AQUILINA is the author of St. Joseph and His World (Scepter, 2020).