Nowadays if you go to Nazareth excited nuns will show you what they have discovered in the basement of their convent building: a house just like the one Jesus may have grown up in, with a piece of first-century Roman pavement in front of it. You can imagine the little boy growing up there, watching the soldiers march by, the merchants and slaves and townspeople passing.
And you can go to a church where down behind the altar a little stream emerges and flows - perhaps Mary his mother took her water from this very stream, long ago.
(And over here indeed is a little house preserved to remind us of the time when she discovered, that is, when the angelic messenger told her the news, that she was pregnant.)
But back then the house by the road and the spring and the creek would have said, this is an ordinary man, the carpenter's son - what's the big deal?
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