History knows Herod; there is nothing mythical about this monster of
iniquity. These statements are facts that no keenest critic or scholarly
unbeliever can plausibly dispute. So the gospel sets its record in the
rigid frame of history; it roots its origin down in the rocky ledge of
Judea. Christ was not born in a dream, but in Bethlehem. We are not,
then, building our faith on a myth, but on immovable matters of fact.
This thing was not done in a corner, but in the broad day, and it is not
afraid of the geographer's map and the historian's pen. The Christmas
story is not another beautiful legend in the world's gallery of myths,
but is sober and solid reality; its story is history. Our religion is
truth, and we will worship at no other altar.




V. Simplicity of the Narrative


Though surcharged with such tremendous meaning, carrying a heavier
burden of news than was ever before committed to human language, yet the
simplicity with which the story is told is one of the literary marvels
of the gospels. This event has inspired poets and painters and has been
embroidered and illuminated with an immense amount of ornamentation.
Genius has poured its splendors upon it and tried to give us some worthy
conception of the scene. But the evangelists had no such purpose or
thought, and their story is told with that charming artlessness that is
perfect art. They were not men of genius, but plain men, mostly tax
collectors and fishermen untrained in the schools, with no thought of
skill or literary art. Yet all the stylists and artists of the world
stand in wonder before their unconscious effort and supreme