The Christmas Mystery

by Jostein Gaarder

  “To Bethlehem!” called Joshua again. “To Bethlehem!”

  They had scarcely gotten up speed when Ephiriel turned to Elisabet and told her that they were running through the place where Jesus had fed five thousand people with only a few loaves and fishes.

  “Yes, indeed!” exploded Impuriel. “Jesus wanted people to share the little they had. If only they could learn to share with each other, nobody would be hungry or poor.”

  When they came to the village of Tiberias, they turned from the Lake of Gennesaret and up through a hilly area. At the head of a fertile valley with palms and fruit trees was another village.

  Ephiriel called to the procession to stop. “Angel time says 107 years have passed since Jesus was born. This town is called Nazareth. Jesus grew up here, the son of Joseph the carpenter. This was where an angel of the Lord appeared to Mary to tell her she was going to have a child.”

  He had scarcely finished speaking when something fell down through a hole in the sky. The next moment, still another angel was standing in front of the pilgrims. In his hand he held a trumpet. The angel blew once on the trumpet and said, “I am the angel Evangeliel, and I proclaim to you a great joy. There is only a short time left until Jesus is born.”

  Impuriel began fluttering around Elisabet. “He is one of us and will be with us on the last part of our journey to Bethlehem.”

  Elisabet was reminded of the words to an old Christmas carol.

  The angel of the Lord came down,

  And glory shone around

  she sang in as pretty a voice as she could.

  The Three Wise Men clapped their hands because she sang so beautifully.

  That embarrassed her. So that they would not just look at her, she said, “We must be getting close to Bethlehem, since there are so many angels here.”

  Joshua gave one of the sheep a little slap on its rump. “To Bethlehem! To Bethlehem!”

  Now there were only a hundred years to go before they reached the city of David.

  * * *

  “NOW things are starting to fall into place,” Papa said.

  Mama turned toward him in surprise. “You mean, they’ve arrived in the Holy Land?”

  Papa shook his head. “Quirinius said something yesterday when they were approaching Damascus. ‘It’s good to be home again,’ he said. Naturally, that was because the Governor of Syria may well have lived in Damascus. But I seem to hear John’s voice: ‘It’s good to be home again.’”

  “You mean John made the magic Advent calendar and he really does come from Damascus?” Joachim said.

  Papa nodded. “Who is Quirinius in this extraordinary story? It was Quirinius who gave Elisabet an Advent calendar, the one with the picture of the fair-haired girl. That’s how he’s imagined himself into the story he’s telling, he and the young woman he met in Rome. He’s put it into the middle of this long story. Although Quirinius and that Advent calendar only come in the twelfth and thirteenth chapters, Quirinius has said ‘Dixi’ all the time when he has something to say. That means ‘I have spoken’—and I hear John’s voice again. He has spoken, and what he has said is in this remarkable Advent calendar.”

  “You’re right,” said Mama.

  “But an interesting piece of information came out today,” Papa went on.

  “What?” asked Mama and Joachim together.

  “The old flower seller has described many towns and places on the long journey to Bethlehem. But today the description was more exact. He writes about the straight street that cuts right through Damascus from the western to the eastern gate. Only someone familiar with the place would write like that.”

  “Perhaps so,” said Mama. “But don’t you think he might have heard the old story about the soldiers who were knocked over by a procession of angels?”

  “Nonsense!” Papa said, snorting.

  Then he stopped himself. “But nothing can be discounted. If only we could find him!”

  Joachim was thinking about something very different. He looked down at the piece of paper he’d been reading from, put his finger on one of the sentences, and said, “The Wise Man said it’s important to do something for people who are fleeing from their homes. What do you think he meant by that?”

  “I suppose he was thinking of refugees and people like that,” Papa said.

  “Exactly!” said Joachim. “That’s just what I thought.”

  “What about it?” asked Mama.

  “I thought it had something to do with the lady in the photo. She was a refugee. And she was his girlfriend.”

  * * *

  BEFORE Joachim fell asleep that evening, he spent a little time playing with the letters of the alphabet. He thought about John, who had met Elisabet in Rome, and about Roma, which turned into a word that meant love when he read it backward.

  Finally, he wrote some magic letters in his little notebook:

  The diagram looked like a door—or perhaps a door that was inside another door. But what was inside that door?

  22

  DECEMBER 22

  … his food was locusts and wild honey …

  JOACHIM woke up early on the morning of December 22. There were only three days left to Christmas—and only three doors left to open in the magic Advent calendar. He was excited about what he would find out when he opened the last doors in the magic Advent calendar. But he didn’t dare do anything before Mama and Papa got up.

  There they were, both of them.

  Joachim opened the door and saw a picture of a man standing in a river, the water up to his waist. The upper part of his body was clothed in rags.

  Mama unfolded the piece of paper and read.

  THE INNKEEPER

  A godly band was journeying through Samaria. It was at the very end of the first century after Jesus’ birth.

  In the gray dawn one day in the year 91, they stopped by the banks of the River Jordan, which runs from the Lake of Gennesaret to the Dead Sea.

  “Here it is!” called Ephiriel.

  The angel Seraphiel went on. “Out here in the wilderness Jesus was baptized by John the Baptist. John wore a camel’s-hair cloak, with a leather belt around his waist. His food was locusts and wild honey.”

  “I know that,” said Impuriel, “for John had said, ‘I indeed baptize you with water: But One mightier than I is coming, whose sandal strap I am not worthy to loose. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire.’ Then Jesus came and allowed himself to be baptized in the River Jordan. I was sitting high up above in the clouds, clapping my hands. It was a great moment.”

  “Wasn’t that when a dove came down from heaven?” Elisabet wanted to know. She thought she had heard something like that once.

  Impuriel beat his wings and nodded. “Yes, indeed!”

  “To Bethlehem!” said Joshua. “To Bethlehem!”

  “How far is it to Bethlehem?” Elisabet asked.

  “Not very far at all!” said Impuriel.

  They began running again and were soon passing a large city. As they ran, Ephiriel said that the city was called Jericho and was possibly the oldest city in the whole world.

  They hurried on along the ancient road between Jericho and Jerusalem. It was the road where the Good Samaritan had helped the poor man who had been attacked by thieves.

  They whirled up to Jerusalem. First they climbed up to the Mount of Olives. They looked down at Gethsemane, where Jesus had been taken prisoner, and his disciples had slept when they should have been watching with Him. When they looked out over Jerusalem, Elisabet could see only ruined buildings. Could this be the Jewish capital?

  “The angel watch says it’s the year 71 after Christ,” explained Ephiriel. “Barely a year ago, the Romans sacked Jerusalem and destroyed the city because its people had rebelled against the Roman colonial power. Today the Eternal City resembles shattered pottery.”

  “It was the Emperor Titus who did it,” said Impuriel. “Not just him alone, of course. It was Titus and his soldiers.”

 
“They destroyed the temple as well,” continued Ephiriel. “Only a small part of the west wall is left. Later, this wall will be called the Wailing Wall. From this time on, the Jews will be scattered over the whole world.”

  “It’s so sad it almost makes me cry,” whimpered Impuriel. “We keep on saying ‘Peace be with you’ and ‘Peace on earth.’ But humans never seem to learn that they must not fight. Though one of the last things Jesus said before he was taken prisoner was that those who live by the sword shall perish by the sword.”

  Ephiriel agreed. “All those who celebrate Christmas must remember that, because peace is the message of Christmas.”

  “That’s what we sing every Christmas Eve,” continued Impuriel. “We sing, ‘Glory to God in the highest and peace on earth!’ But it’s just as if people don’t want to listen to that hymn. Soon I won’t bother to sing it anymore, so there.”

  Joshua struck his shepherd’s crook on the very top of the Mount of Olives and said, “To Bethlehem! To Bethlehem!”

  They sped through the city. A few people were moving among the ruins. One woman was looking in the ramshackle buildings as if searching for something she had lost.

  The pilgrims ran through the remnants of the western city gate and down the road to Bethlehem. They were only a few kilometers from the city of David.

  All of a sudden, they saw a man who was walking beside an ass. When he heard the procession approaching, he looked up and waved both arms.

  “Fear not! Fear not!” shouted Impuriel from a long way away.

  But the man was not in the least afraid.

  “Then he is one of us,” said Ephiriel.

  The man and the ass came toward them. He offered his hand to Elisabet. “I am the innkeeper. I am the one who will say that there’s not room for Mary and Joseph. But I shall lend them the stable.” Whereupon he lifted Elisabet onto the back of the ass. “You must be tired after your long journey,” he said.

  Elisabet shook her head. “I’ve run through the whole of Europe, and I’ve run through the whole of history as well. It goes just as quickly as if you’re running down an escalator.”

  The man stared at her without understanding. “Did you say escalator?”

  Joshua struck his crook on the ground. “To Bethlehem! To Bethlehem!”

  * * *

  MAMA looked at the others with a solemn expression on her face. She nodded once or twice, and Papa said, “‘Out here in the wilderness Jesus was baptized by John the Baptist.’”

  “I know that,” said Joachim, exactly like the angel Impuriel in the magic Advent calendar. He went on, excitedly, “John the flower seller is out in the wilderness, too. Besides, he poured water over himself and over the bookseller. Yes, indeed!”

  “That can’t be accidental, can it?” said Papa. “And we never thought about his name!”

  “People and flowers both need water,” Joachim went on. “In the magic Advent calendar it says that the wildflowers are part of the glory of heaven that has strayed down to earth. I expect there was a lot of the glory of heaven in the River Jordan, too.”

  Papa got to his feet and went into the living room to get the Bible. When he came back, he turned the pages backward and forward. Then he read aloud:

  The voice of one crying in the wilderness:

  Prepare the way of the Lord,

  Make His paths straight.

  Every valley shall be filled,

  And every mountain and hill brought low;

  And the crooked places shall be made straight

  And the rough ways made smooth;

  And all flesh shall see the salvation of God.

  “In a way, this is what the Advent calendar is trying to tell us,” said Papa. “The pilgrims have been traveling toward Bethlehem, but they have also seen how the stories about Jesus have spread across the whole world.”

  “Perhaps so,” said Mama. “But I won’t be satisfied until we’ve solved the mystery of who Elisabet the first is, and the second, and the third.”

  They had to hurry to work and to school. Joachim had to go to the Christmas pageant in the gym. His class was performing the Nativity play for the other students.

  On his way home, the thought came to him that nearly all the pilgrims who had taken part in the long pilgrimage in the magic Advent calendar had taken part in the school Nativity play as well.

  As he was letting himself into the house, he noticed a letter stuck in the crack on the door. He pulled it out. It was addressed: “To Joachim”!

  He hurried inside and sat down on the bench in the hall. He opened the letter and read:

  Dear Joachim,

  I am inviting myself for a cup of coffee and a Christmas cookie or two on December 23 at 7 p.m. I hope the whole family will be there.

  Yours, John

  Mama arrived before long, but Joachim waited until Papa came home to tell them about the letter from John. They were sitting at the dinner table.

  “I’ve had a letter from John today,” he began. He had to struggle to keep back a big smile.

  “What?” Papa nearly choked. He stood up and held out his hand. “Let’s see!”

  He must have forgotten that it is wrong to read other people’s letters.

  But Joachim ran to his room to get the letter. He gave it to Papa, and Papa read it aloud to Mama.

  Mama gasped. “Tomorrow at seven? We have to be here!”

  Papa grinned from ear to ear. “For a Christmas cookie or two! We’ll put out everything we’ve got—including the marzipan cake. Because it’s Christmas!”

  23

  DECEMBER 23

  … it was as if they were all rehearsing something they had to know by heart …

  IT’S Christmas! thought Joachim when he woke on December 23. He was itching to open the last door but one in the magic Advent calendar. But he didn’t dare touch it until Mama and Papa came in.

  Before long, both of them were there. Papa said he had taken a day off work.

  “Because it’s Christmas,” he repeated.

  Joachim opened the last door but one in the Advent calendar. It was a picture of a man walking beside an ass. On the ass sat a woman in red.

  A folded piece of paper fell out of the calendar. It was Papa’s turn to read. Joachim could see his hand was shaking.

  MARY AND JOSEPH

  A godly company was on its way to Bethlehem. In a way, the procession of pilgrims stretched from the long, narrow countries below the cold North Pole at the top of Europe, right down to warm Judea, which is where Europe, Asia, and Africa meet. It stretched from the distant future right back to the beginning of our era.

  There were seven godly sheep, four shepherds, three Kings of the Orient, five angels of the Lord, the Emperor Augustus, the Governor Quirinius, the innkeeper, and Elisabet, who was allowed to sit on the back of an ass on the last part of the journey to the city of David.

  They moved along more and more slowly. Soon they were going at an ordinary walking pace. Ephiriel said the angel watch had stopped at the year 0. He pointed to a city far away and said that was Bethlehem.

  At once, the Emperor Augustus halted and planted his scepter in the ground under an olive tree. He stood straight, opened the book he had been carrying under his arm, and said in a commanding voice, “The time has come!”

  They all remained standing on the road, and the Emperor continued solemnly: “I order you all to write your names in the census.”

  He held up a piece of charcoal and handed it to each of the pilgrims in turn. Then they all wrote their names in the big book. Only the sheep were excused, probably because they couldn’t write and because nobody had given them names.

  Elisabet was the last to write her name. She read out all the other names before she added her own signature.

  1st shepherd: Joshua

  2nd shepherd: Jacob

  3rd shepherd: Isaac

  4th shepherd: Daniel

  1st Wise Man: Caspar

  2nd Wise Man: Balthazar

&
nbsp; 3rd Wise Man: Melchior

  1st angel: Ephiriel

  2nd angel: Impuriel

  3rd angel: Seraphiel

  4th angel: Cherubiel

  5th angel: Evangeliel

  Quirinius, Governor of Syria

  Augustus, Emperor of the Roman Empire

  Innkeeper

  Elisabet added her own name in this way:

  1st pilgrim: Elisabet

  Then she had a clever idea. Even though the sheep couldn’t write and hadn’t been given any names, she thought they should be included in the census anyway. She wrote:

  1st sheep

  2nd sheep

  3rd sheep

  4th sheep

  5th sheep

  6th sheep

  7th sheep

  She glanced up at the Emperor Augustus. She was a little afraid that he might he angry because she had spoiled his census. But he just put away the census.

  Elisabet had worked out that there were 23 pilgrims listed in the census if she included herself and the seven sheep. That was as many as a whole class in school.

  After they had registered, the pilgrims became a little more solemn than they had been in Copenhagen and Hamelin, in Venice and Constantinople, in Myra and Damascus.

  Ephiriel said, “‘And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, to be registered with Mary, his betrothed wife, who was with child.’”

  The procession of pilgrims moved off slowly. But before long Ephiriel said they had to stop again. He pointed down the road. A young man was walking beside an ass, and on the ass sat a woman in red. In the background, Bethlehem was spread out over a terraced landscape, with long slopes almost bare of grass because of all the flocks of sheep.

  “There are Mary and Joseph,” said Ephiriel. “For now the time has come; it is like a ripening fruit.”

  The innkeeper’s face took on a busy expression. “I must hurry to get there before them,” he said.