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Yet it is romantic conventions in which The Nativity Story deals. When does Mary's growing appreciation of Joseph's kindness turn to affection? After Joseph rescues Mary from a water snake, and he is resting by the riverbank, Mary takes Joseph's travel-blistered feet in her hands and bathes them tenderly. At this moment, Mary seems to stop tolerating this man of boundless good intentions and start loving him back.

The Nativity Story is a love story. And a love story demands a happy ending. But neither Matthew nor Luke is recording a love story. For them, the infancy narratives are an important part of authenticating Jesus' messiahship as foretold in the Hebrew Scriptures. The visions of the angelic messengers are correlated to birth announcements made to Sarah and Manoah's wife. Mary and Elizabeth's unexpected pregnancies, each miraculous in its own way, are correlated to the conceptions of Isaac, Samson, and Samuel. The fulfilling of ancient prophecies, the repetition of paradigmatic moments in Hebrew history, and the impenetrable genealogies are integral to the Gospel writers' purposes. The ecstatic utterances of Mary, Zechariah, and Simeon parallel the song of Hannah. The homage of the magi and the escape to Egypt have more prophetic than dramatic significance. All these things are evidence of who Jesus is and is to be.

For the Gospel writers, then, the Jesus story does not climax in the stable. It climaxes in the Cross. Thus, the horrendous slaughter of Bethlehem's children is not out of place in Matthew. Nor is it primarily an atrocity perpetrated by a vain and unstable tyrant. It is, rather, an attack on God's anointed.

But since The Nativity Story of necessity focuses on the birth narratives alone, and because it chooses to explore the personal dynamics of two young adults caught up in the greatest moment in history, it cannot do what the Gospels do. It consequently shies away from giving full weight to Herod's satanic massacre of Bethlehem's babies. Matthew responds to Herod's wickedness by quoting the weeping prophet Jeremiah: "A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be comforted. . . ." For the Gospel writer, there is no resolution: "She refused to be comforted, because they are no more."

I have no doubt that the historical Joseph and Mary lived with the specter of that bloodshed for the rest of their days. This film, on the other hand, runs from the horror and quickly reverts into "Silent Night"—happy ending mode. The shift from the realism of Mary and Joseph's life in Nazareth to the romantic iconography of the Nativity scene seems to be a surrender to the romantic structure of the plot. The gritty reality of village life in first-century Palestine is abandoned in favor of Christmas-card sentimentality, with wise men, shepherds, animals, and the holy family posing as if they were ceramic figurines on your mantelpiece.

Such departures from realism do not doom The Nativity Story any more than fanciful scenes with the angel Clarence doom It's a Wonderful Life. The Nativity Story is not boldly realistic like The Passion of the Christ. It is, however, a heart-warming reconstruction of the growing and tender relationship of history's most famous couple. And unlike The Passion, it has the promise of a long life on DVD, as it becomes a family favorite to watch Christmas after Christmas.

David Neff is editor of Christianity Today and executive editor of Christian History & Biography.

© David Neff 2006, subject to licensing agreement with Christianity Today International. All rights reserved. Click for reprint information.

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