A Christmas Eve Meditation
Presented by Rev. Merlin T. Batt
Intentional Interim Pastor
St. Matthew’s United Church of Christ
Maiden, North Carolina
December 24, 2007

Scripture Lesson: Luke 2:1-7
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“Mary gave birth to her first-born son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.” Arguably, these are the most famous words in the most famous story in the history of Western civilization, if not the whole world. Over the course of two thousand years, they have given rise to countless depictions in the works of artists and to imaginary reconstructions in the minds of believers and unbelievers alike.

The most common of them is actually the most unlikely, historically speaking – that of a young couple arriving in the town of Bethlehem; the young woman close to giving birth to her firstborn; the inn-keeper at the local “Holiday Inn Express” reporting “no vacancy”; the husband pleading desperately for a place to stay; the inn-keeper relenting and allowing them to spend the night in the barn out back. It’s a scene etched into our minds by centuries of art, music, and story-telling. Nonetheless, it is misleading.

Much more likely is this scenario: The young, pregnant couple arrives in Bethlehem, which the Gospel writer tells us plainly is the Joseph’s home town where, of course, he would have family. They go, not to a commercial inn (there were no such things in small villages in those days!), but to the home of a relative.

But there they find that the guest room is occupied, probably because of the Roman registration which brought Joseph and Mary to Bethlehem in the first place. Now here is why this scenario is more likely: the Greek word “kataluma,” which in this story is translated “inn” (as in “there was no place for them in the inn”) actually means “guest room.” Every other place the word “kataluma” is used in the New Testament, it is translated “guest room.” So the sentence in Luke’s story should read this way: “Mary gave birth to her first-born son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the guest room.”

Since this guest room (the kataluma) was not available that night, the only place left for them to stay was in the lower part of the small house, in the area where the animals were brought inside at night. There the animals were safe from predators and thieves. And there the animals’ body-heat brought warmth to the family to keep out the night-time chill.

There amidst the warmth, the smells, the grunts, the growls, and the filth of the animals, the young couple spent the night, and there the frightened, excited, teenaged Mary gave birth to her first-born son, wrapped him tightly in bands of cloth, and laid him – where else? – in the animals’ feeding trough, the manger.

Whatever actually happened that night, Luke the Gospel-writer wants us to be aware, in no uncertain terms, that from the very beginning, Jesus was a displaced person for whom the world would not make a place. No vacancy!

A few chapters later in Luke’s story, Jesus is in Nazareth where he grew up. He has just preached in his hometown synagogue and said things which first pleased, then offended his neighbors. “When they heard this,” reports Luke, “all in the synagogue were filled with wrath. And they rose up and put him out of the city, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their city was built, that they might throw him down headlong.” No vacancy!

A few more chapters into Luke’s Gospel we find Jesus on his way to Jerusalem for the final time. About this Luke says, “And he sent messengers ahead of him, who went and entered a village of the Samaritans, to make ready for him; but the people would not receive him….” No vacancy!

Then at the end of his Gospel, Luke tells us that after Jesus and his Kingdom-agenda were rejected by the religious and political leaders in Jerusalem, he was put to death outside the city walls. No vacancy! His bruised and bleeding body was removed from the cross and taken for burial in a borrowed tomb. No vacancy!
 
Unlike Luke, John does not have a birth story about Jesus. But the theme is the same. Listen to these words from the opening chapter of John’s Gospel: “The true light that enlightens every man was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world knew him not. He came to his own home, and his own people received him not.” No vacancy!

Which brings us to tonight, Christmas Eve, to the question which will be answered, one way or another, by each one of you - whether there is room for Him in you, whether there is a vacancy in your life into which you welcome Christ to come and make His home. It’s no secret that many, different motivations bring us out in the dark of night to worship on Christmas Eve – an invitation that couldn’t politely be refused, nostalgia, family tradition, duty, curiosity, loneliness, emptiness, love for the Lord. Whatever has brought you here, whatever combination of motivating factors has brought you to God’s house tonight, the question is presented to you, as to me: Will you welcome Him to come and make His home in you? Will you invite Him to enter some room in your life from which you have previously shut him out? Will you open to Him the whole of your inner house, not just the section reserved for Sunday mornings?

How will you respond? “No vacancy!” or “Come, Lord Jesus!”?

One of the most beloved Christmas carols asks this most important question. Written in 1867 by Phillips Brooks, an Episcopal clergyman, the lyrics speak of receiving the One whose birth we celebrate tonight. Listen.

How silently, how silently, the wondrous Gift is giv’n;
So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of His Heav’n.
No ear may hear his coming, but in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive Him still, the dear Christ enters in.

O holy Child of Bethlehem, descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin, and enter in, be born in us today.
We hear the Christmas angels the great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us, our Lord Emmanuel!