Once — not upon a time, but just once. Once, at a particular time, during the reign of Caesar Augustus, the Roman emperor, once, in a particular place, Bethlehem in occupied Judea, a baby was born to a poor Jewish couple, Mary and Joseph, a carpenter. They were not yet married and the pregnancy was conceived under dubious circumstances and the birthing was lonely and awkward. No one came to share their joy, only some rough shepherds and a group of foreigners. From the beginning, this baby was surrounded by turmoil. Herod wanted to kill him, but failed. But one day, Pilate would succeed. He was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, rejected and despised by his own people, but providing for some — hopeless people, broken people, poor people, humble people, sinful people, lost people — the salvation they thought was never possible.