The idea was that this boy would listen to
Joseph explain his need for a room. Then he would respond, "Sorry,
but all our rooms are full."
Everything went just fine at first. The
boy listened as Joseph made his plea for a room. "Sorry, no
rooms," he said. He listened again as Joseph spoke of Mary, who
really needed a good rest after her long journey. "Sorry, no rooms," the boy said
again -- but with a bit less conviction.
And then, when Joseph and Mary turned sadly to
depart, the boy's conviction crumbled altogether. "Wait," he
said. "You can have my room."
I love that story. You have probably
heard it before. What you might not know is that it is a true
story. The boy's name was Wally. The story first appeared in
Guideposts in 1966, and has been charming people for nearly fifty years and
Guideposts has reprinted the story a number of times since.
There are other reasons why I love that story
for a couple of reasons. First of all, it is a moving story. I can just
imagine that kind-hearted boy trying to turn away Joseph and Mary. I can
imagine how difficult that must have been for him. I can imagine him
crumbling under pressure -- offering the only thing that he had to give -- his
own room. I can imagine the rest of the kids and the Sunday School
teachers trying to figure out what to do once Wally took the play in a whole
new direction. I can imagine some of the adults being upset because Wally
didn't follow the script. And I can imagine other adults sitting in the pews
wiping tears from their eyes as they witnessed one of those special moments
that we are privileged to see only now and then.
While boys like Wally can't be counted on to
follow the script, they can be counted on to do the right thing. They can
be counted on to give us at least a fleeting glimpse into the kingdom of
heaven. A moment like that one comes only rarely -- and fleetingly -- and
then it lingers on in our hearts as it reminds us what God was doing at
Christmas.
I’ll bet Joseph and Mary wished Wally was their
innkeeper! The Government of Rome, the occupiers of first century Palestine,
launched a census. Everyone had to go home to their home city. We hear that
when Joseph took Mary to Bethlehem, he found “no room in the inn.”
I always have to put aside a mental image of
what “no room at the inn” meant. In my mind’s eye, I see a buzzing neon sign on
a motel just off the interstate. Mary and Joseph were turned away because the
inn would not accept someone as low-class like poor Joseph.
You know what seems strange? Joseph is going to
his home-town, right? How come no one in the family put him up? Some scholars
looked at that question, and it seems that none of Joseph’s relatives let him
in because they were offended that Joseph and his pregnant girlfriend showed up
on their doorstep.
I tend to want to make my mental pictures of Christmas
as pretty as postcards. But then, I have never had to spend the night in a
barn. It would never occur to me to put a baby in a pile of hay that animals
eat from. I think of shepherds as something like gentlemen farmers when in fact
they were the truck-drivers and migrant workers of their day. And I have never
had my parents or relatives tell me to go away because I was disgrace. Jesus
was born to poor parents, in the wrong part of town, without a place to call
home.
Jesus was born in this way not because of bad
luck but because God is up to something. God is near us. No matter what we’ve
done, or what happens to us, or what kind of life we’ve led, God is with us. God
makes a home in human flesh, so that we can be at home in our own skin. God is
with us.
If you take anything away from our encounter
with the infant Jesus, that is what I want you to hear, that God is with us.
Are you feeling far away from the goals you set
for yourself? God is with you.
Do you look for meaning and dignity in your
work? God is with you.
Are you alone? God is with you.
Are you struggling with an addiction or love
someone who is? God is with you.
Are you tired of more month left at the end of
the money? God is with you.
Do you find yourself feeling down, or
distracted, or without energy for life? God is with you.
The strange thing is that very often, God is
with us through people who have found out the hard way that God is with them,
too.
The AA sponsor.
The soup kitchen client who is now the soup
kitchen volunteer.
The woman who survived violence who helps other
women.
The cancer survivor who drives cancer patients
to their treatments.
The person who drives meals to people who
cannot get out of their homes.
All these people live out Jesus’ name, Emmanuel,
God is with us, in their own lives.
People who have found themselves changed by God
don’t keep it to themselves very often. They either tell people or they show
them how God is changing them.
It makes sense to me that the story of Joseph
and Mary stuck in a barn and Jesus being born in a feeding trough, of shepherds
being the ones to hear the news of God-Is-With-Us, comes from the Gospel of
Luke. Because it is from Luke that we hear of what kind of Church Jesus left
behind. A church that went out into the world; a church that cared for widows
and orphans; a church that banded together to feed hungry people half-a-world
away when that really meant something. I wonder if the Church of Luke and Acts
did this because they knew that Jesus was born homeless and poor, if they
remembered the nativity stories because they Jesus in the poor and homeless?
At Christmas, the fullness of God is one with
the fullnees of humanity, and is born in the poorest of surroundings! At first
glance, it makes no sense whatsoever, until you see God-With-Us in the poorest face and sees the
dignity of humanity it each person, no matter where they come from or their
situation.
The story of Wally and his cracking under
pressure to let Joseph and Mary in is a picture of conversion. It is a story of
a heart changing in the face of God-with-Us showing up on the doorstep. It is a
story of a person who looks deep into the eyes of sadness and knows no other
course but to respond with compassion.
It may not be in the script, but it is how God
works.
The moment we look, look deep into Christmas
and discover in the cold and poverty and loneliness of the manger God-With-Us,
we are changed. We discover that in Christ God is there to change our hearts,
to make us whole, and to give us the power.
When we look deep into the manger and find the
Christ, we find that Christ has found us, too. And we are able in His power to
touch other hearts seeking after God, like us.
There was no room in the inn, but even still
God in Jesus makes room in our hearts. God is With Us. Making room. Changing
hearts.
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