Now in those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus, that a census be taken of all the inhabited earth. This was the first census taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. And all the people were on their way to register for the census, each to his own city. Now Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the city of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David, in order to register along with Mary, who was betrothed to him, and was pregnant. While they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
In the same region there were some shepherds staying out in the fields and keeping watch over their flock at night. And an angel of the Lord suddenly stood near them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them; and they were terribly frightened. And so the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. (Luke 2:1-11)
In Bethlehem there was a darkness beyond that of the night. Throughout Judea and a huge swath of “the inhabited earth” the Roman Empire dominated and oppressed. The Emperor Augustus (“the exalted”), biological nephew but adopted son of Julius, wielded shrewd and oppressive power over his subjects. While granting some favors and freedoms, Augustus still exercised executive authority and ordered people around when he desired. By going to Bethlehem Joseph and Mary acknowledged the Roman rule over their people and over their own lives. Though they were Jews, the Emperor’s mandates served to co-opt their identity; whatever else they believed, valued, and chose, they had to obey the Romans.
In Bethlehem’s darkness, the couple probably felt a loneliness. Far from home and family, for they tried to find lodging in an inn which must indicate they had no relatives in the area, they were on their own in the crowd of unhappy Jews. The general mood must have been one of irritation, anger, even rebelliousness due to the Roman requirement to report for the census. Joseph and Mary were at the mercy of strangers and, thankfully, were provided a safe place, but they had only each other in the sea of disgruntled travelers.
Each other, and the coming baby. Bethlehem’s darkness must have carried some worry for them since the birth was imminent. In a strange place, no one to call on, no assurance that everything would be okay. Would the baby be safe? Would Mary? Surely concern and anxiety pressed on their minds.
I don’t know anything about Joseph’s financial standing. Could this trip have been a burden? Did they have the means for enough food? Due to his time away on this compulsory trip, would his carpentry business take a hard hit and require a lengthy recovery time? The darkness may have carried the kind of financial struggle that many experience in complicated times.
In Bethlehem’s darkness, there is a deeper, darker gloom than all these. It covers not just Bethlehem, not just Judea, not just Rome, but “all the inhabited earth.” Israel’s ancient prophet admitted the darkness for all of us:
Therefore justice is far from us, and righteousness does not reach us;
We hope for light, but there is darkness, for brightness, but we walk in gloom.
We grope for the wall like people who are blind, we grope like those who have no eyes.
We stumble at midday as in the twilight; among those who are healthy we are like the dead.…
For our wrongful acts have multiplied before You, and our sins have testified against us;
For our wrongful acts are with us, and we know our wrongdoings:
Offending and denying the Lord, and turning away from our God,
Speaking oppression and revolt, conceiving and uttering lying words from the heart. (Isaiah 59:9-10, 12-13)
In Bethlehem’s darkness there is a lingering, suffocating bleakness, and life and peace and joy cannot abide.
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight.
For Christ is born of Mary,
And gathered all above,
While mortals sleep, the angels keep
Their watch of wondering love.
O morning stars together,
Proclaim the holy birth,
And praises sing to God the King,
And peace to men on earth!
(“O Little Town of Bethlehem,” Phillips Brooks)
In Bethlehem’s darkness, the Messiah enters. The true light that gives light to everyone came into the world (John 1:9). Now there is truth, now there is grace, now there is hope, now there is love breaking through the darkness. There is justice and righteousness. God reconciles us to himself. God makes us his own and saves, heals, and renews our dark souls.
There is darkness – circumstances out of our control, loneliness, fears, neediness, guilt, shame, broken and battered hearts. This season we are now experiencing is enveloped in a darkness. This ongoing COVID-19 pandemic with illness and death, with isolation and inactivity, with despair and grief, has many of us feeling deeply bleak and depressed.
But in that darkness, there is light. 
Light that shows the way through. In Psalm 16 there is a confident expression of faith in God: You will make known to me the way of life (verse 11). The Lord shows us the way, the direction, the path to life. He himself leads us along that path, and we can find hope, strength, and even joy.
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks,
And Christmas comes once more.
O holy Child of Bethlehem,
Descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin, and enter in,
Be born in us today.
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
Our Lord Emmanuel!
(“O Little Town of Bethlehem,” Phillips Brooks)
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