Hi. My name is Joseph.
You may have heard of me. My name comes up a lot this time of year, because over 2000 years ago, my wife, Mary, gave birth to a son, named Jesus. The celebration of his birth is called Christmas, and the story of how Jesus was born has been sometimes called “the first Christmas”. It’s a story that has been told and retold many times, and is a wonderful memory for me… but if I may, I’d like to tell you a different story this year.
It began about two months before Jesus’ second birthday. I was fixing the roof of our home in Bethlehem one night when we received a visit from a group of Persian scholars. They called themselves the Magi, and had come to Jerusalem a few days before looking for a baby who, they said, was to become “King of the Jews”.
Now, you have to realize that Jesus’ birth was very special, and I don’t mean that in a proud father sort of way. God himself caused Mary to have this child, and when he was born, his appearance was heralded by angels. Within weeks of his birth, two different prophets came to us, proclaiming that he would be a saviour of Israel.
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