Tuesday, December 19: The Donkey

The funniest sight I have probably ever seen was this: once, in my father's village, in 2010, I saw a donkey pulling a Ford pickup up a mountain.

Yes, really. And as I stood there with my daughter our friend Jessie, staring, the driver paused, stuck his head out the window, and asked which Manolis brother I belonged to. The donkey stopped when he (or she?) heard his owner's voice, and just kind of stood there, waiting for us to finish our conversation. When it was over, he moved on, nonchalantly pulling the pickup up the mountain.

Donkeys are strong animals, and every donkey I've been around (all of them in Greece) seem to do whatever task they've been given  without the complaining that is typical of goats, sheep, or even (at times) horses. (My donkey experience is limited, but that's my impression, anyway).

When I was about seven or eight I announced in Sunday school that I thought it was ridiculous that she and Joseph took that trip to Bethlehem on a donkey. Sitting on a donkey's back had to have been uncomfortable for Mary, to say the least. Couldn't the world have gone on if they had not been counted in the census?

When my Sunday school teacher said that the penalties for not following the law were pretty stiff back then, I replied, "Mary and Joseph were probably pretty smart. Couldn't they have figured out some way to hide--or something?" To which one of the other girls in my class replied, angrily, "But then the whole Christmas story wouldn't have happened! Is THAT what you want?"

And she was right--Jesus would have been born either way, but the particular way he was born--after a long trip, in a stable because there was no room in the inn--set the tone for so much of his life and teachings, lifting up the least likely and least deserving and least everything. The story started with trusting a donkey to get them to Bethlehem, and having their baby among barn animals, in a manger.

Now, I'm glad the trip to Bethlehem part of the story exists, even though it's a minor couple sentences in the Gospels. If  you've ever traveled long distance with a friend, you know that everyone's best and worst comes out on long road trips. I like to imagine the conversations Joseph and Mary must have had on the way to Bethlehem. She must have been uncomfortable. They both must have been scared, and exhausted. How did they deal with their frustration, fear, worry? How did they treat one another? What did each learn about the other during that trip? Did they travel alone or with a group taking that route? How did they know the way?

I like to imagine the gratitude that they must have felt to have a strong, easy-to-handle creature by their side. The donkey's breathing, steadiness, and willingness to keep moving must have calmed them, set them into a rhythm that helped them get to Bethlehem.

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