I WAS BORN in the United States, and have lived here all my life. There’s a lot I take for granted. Although I might lament the state of American politics — the bipartisan posturing, the media-driven pandering — I would not want to give up the freedoms I have, including the right to vote or to express an opinion. I would not want to live under anything close to a regime in which the government unilaterally dictates what I can and can’t do, where I have to go and when.

I would not want to live in the Roman Empire.

Traditionally, the second Sunday of Advent is when we remember Mary, Joseph, and their journey to Bethlehem. Imagine their situation for a moment. As the gospel of Luke tells us, Caesar had decreed an imperial census — probably for the purpose of taxation! — that required everyone to register in their hometown. That meant that Joseph, a descendant of David, had to travel to Bethlehem, the city associated with King David’s birth.

But it would not have been an easy or convenient journey. Mary was probably about 15 or 16 years old at the time, and pregnant. The distance from Nazareth to Bethlehem would have been nearly 100 miles. They would not have been traveling in an air-conditioned car on a paved road with a cooler full of drinks and snacks. Most likely, Joseph was on foot, and Mary on the back of a donkey. It would have been a journey of several days on dry, dusty, and possibly dangerous roads.

Did I mention Mary was pregnant? Apparently, very pregnant, in her last trimester — and bouncing along for mile after mile on a donkey. It almost makes you wonder if the trip itself might have caused her to deliver early.

All in all, it would have been a grueling journey. Me? I would have grumbled the whole way.

But consider too the history Mary and Joseph have shared up to this point, for which we also have to rely on the gospel of Matthew. Both of them have been visited by angels confirming that the child Mary is carrying is from God. Both of them have been faithful and obedient to what they’ve been told. They know in their bones that their lives and their child are in the hands of God, whatever they may have to face.

On one level, then, their trip to Bethlehem was an imperially mandated road trip. But more importantly, on a deeper level, it was a journey of faith, as their entire life together as a family would be.

THE SEASON OF Advent is meant to be a time of preparation and prayerful reflection. We may not live under an imperialistic regime, but there are other demands in life over which we may feel we have little control — things we have to do, whether we want to or not. From our perspective, things aren’t the way we want them to be; sometimes, they aren’t the way they should be, even from God’s perspective.

And though not a single angel of God has ever visited us in the night, we know that God has a claim on our lives. We know that God wants to work in us and through us. It is all a journey of faith.

What’s your Bethlehem, the place you must go, even if the journey is long and arduous? And what would it mean to take each step — or even just the next step — by faith?