The Days Were Accomplished

Short thoughts on language, labor and activity, and a brand new birthday

There’s been a line from the King James that has rattled around in my mind for weeks. From Luke 2: 4-6:

And Joseph also went up from Galilee…to be taxed with Mary, his espoused wife, being great with child.

And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.

I love this wording of the last sentence, in part because of the natural modesty of the passive voice. A long time ago, when I was teaching Composition 101 to college freshmen, one of the most effective ways for students to immediately clean up and clarify their writing was to cut out passive voice verbs and use active ones instead. So unnecessarily wordy phrasing like “It was necessary that the journey was undertaken by Joseph from Galilee” becomes “And Joseph also went up from Galilee.” The “also” refers to the prior verses, which explain the decree from Caesar and that every citizen necessarily journeyed to be taxed. Joseph went. Subject and verb. Concise and precise.

But then labor and delivery happen, and the language softens. Instead of “then, Mary birthed the Christ,” we get the reminder of the passage of time. “So it came to pass.” This event has been a long, long time coming, and it is far more than a biological account of childbirth.

There’s also the undercurrent of Divine Promise. The emphasis is on a kind of generic reception of this Child, that His coming means far more to the world than to even His parents, the ones who were there. The account could very well have been detailed and visceral and bloody and very personal to Mary’s experience, and to Joseph’s, too. But instead, we get “the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.” Someone Else laid out these days, this plan, this delivery. Someone Else carried and birthed this story. It’s sort of like a line Mother Theresa said, I think: “I am a little pencil in God’s hand. He does all the writing. The pencil has nothing to do with it.” It would be odd and inappropriate for us to talk about the pencil when the writing, the Word and His work, are the point.

Maybe some mothers would be offended by this kind of description of their pregnancy and labor and delivery. Actually, of course some would be. In our self-centered culture, we women can be terrifically obsessed with our own experiences, especially when it comes to the incredible time of labor and delivery. We are tempted to say “Look what I did!” and leave it at that. But that ignores the primary Giver in every birth. Mary didn’t react that way. Joseph, too, stood aside in humility.

And what does that humility acknowledge? Life comes from God. He orders our time and our days, and the length of our breaths. He gives and accomplishes what we can’t; namely, that He creates and brings to fullness. He is begotten into human flesh (here the passive voice is helpful). Jesus enters into our time and our hard and earthly existence to redeem us. Joseph and Mary are significant players in the story, but they are not the Protagonist we all need to acknowledge, the Actor acting on our behalf for all of us.

And so it has been with our family. I plan to write some kind of birth story later, after these first heady, bleary, quiet and tumultuous days are past. But suffice it to say that the days of my pregnancy were accomplished last Saturday on Epiphany. By whom were they accomplished? By the God who creates life and moves time. He has given us a beautiful son. Our son was born, and now we hold him, and we look forward to his baptism into Christ on Sunday.

Thanks be to God.