Luke 2:1-20
During our
midweek worship gatherings on Wednesday evening, the message was a series of
sketches that told a story about an innkeeper and his wife and their reaction
to baby Jesus.
I want to
preface the telling of the story with the recognition that there has long been
an error in translating a word in Luke’s Gospel. We read in most Bibles that Jesus
was “laid in a manger because there was no room for them in the ‘inn’”. The
Greek word here is kataluma, which
usually means “guest room,” not “inn”. Many homes in biblical times had a guest
room. The same word, kataluma, is translated as “upper room” where the last
supper was held, and where the disciples were hiding after the crucifixion.
We who are
unfamiliar with ancient houses assume that the animals were kept in a separate
place, not in the house, which leads us to have the baby born in a barn, or a
cave. In ancient – and not so ancient – times, animals were brought into the
shelter of the house to keep them safe, and in the winter the animals also
helped to keep the house warmer. The animals were in a separate part of the
house, but within the walls of the house. A manger held food for the animals while
they were inside.
It’s likely,
therefore, that a family made a place available for the baby to be born, perhaps
in the guest room, and then the baby was laid in the manger, where he would be
safe, off the floor, and in comfortable, clean hay. On my office door is a
picture of a Lego house which demonstrates the probable layout of the house
where Jesus was born. [ http://www.onbeing.org/blog
Date: December 23, 2012]
The image of
the stable is dear to our hearts, however, and modern stories still highlight
the humility of the stable as a location for Jesus’ birth. The story, “If I
were the Innkeeper,” [ https://www.contemporarydrama.com/
] continues the tradition, but also applies to us, the keepers of our own
homes.
An Innkeeper
and his wife had conversations about the wisdom of telling Joseph and Mary that
there was no room in their place. The Innkeeper walked down to the stable where
they were staying. He met the baby Jesus, and had a life-changing moment. He
returned home, and over the next few days, made preparations for Mary, Joseph,
and Jesus to move into the inn.
The
Innkeeper’s Wife wasn’t so happy with his decision. A number of the guests
heard about his plan to move the “stable family” into the inn and they checked
out. The Wife was concerned about the lost income. She was even more concerned
about giving the best suite in the inn to the couple – for free! To their
surprise, they had an influx of new guests, who were kinder, quieter, and more
welcome. The maids were no longer complaining, and doing a better job when they
cleaned each room. Some people in town made plans to come and see the baby for
themselves. Even the wife stopped her whining and worrying about money.
Everyone in the story who came into contact with Jesus was changed.
The story raises
the question for us: What would we do if we were the innkeeper in Bethlehem?
I’m sure that today, if we knew that Jesus was coming, we’d offer to sleep on
the sofa to make sure Mary and Joseph had the best bed in the house. We’d offer
the best meals, and rock the baby to sleep so Mary could rest. We would never
turn Mary and Joseph away.
But, the
Innkeeper and his Wife did not know when they sent them away that the baby was
the Messiah. They did not know that the baby was the Savior sent by God. They
did not know that this baby was going to change the world forever. They just
knew that the couple was a scroungy-looking pair, who didn’t have the sense to
stay home when the wife was so close to delivering a baby.
I’d like to
believe if a young couple came knocking on my door asking for a place to stay that
I would welcome them in. I’d like to believe it, but our current culture has
taught us to be careful. Our first reaction might be: sure, come on in. But
immediately after that, we begin to think: What might they steal? How badly do
they stink? What kind of a mess will they make? Why don’t they go to the
hospital, or to the Path, or to the Mission? Why have they come to my house?
Even so, I’d
like to believe that I would open my doors and welcome them inside. I’d like to
believe that I would make them as comfortable as I could in my home. I’d like
to believe that I would see Jesus in them and offer them my best, just the way I
would offer my best if I knew for certain that they really were Joseph, Mary,
and Jesus.
I’d like to
believe that you would do that too.
Amen