Now children, here is how God came to you:
And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed. And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, to be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.
And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.
Meanwhile, there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.
And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us. And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger. And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child. And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds. But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart. And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them. (Luke 2:1-20 KJV)
As Luke the evangelist tells the story, Mary gives birth to Jesus and lays him in a manger. Because the place was full up! No vacancy! Not even one unoccupied guest room is to be found at the inn!
Scholars respectfully argue the particulars: Was it really in a watch-where-you-step stable? Or just the earth-floored living room in a simple peasant home? Is Bethlehem – Joseph’s hometown – teeming with other road-weary, bone-tired travelers responding to the beck and call of the census-takers and tax collectors? Did Joseph’s family slam the door in the face his homecoming? Because they disapproved of his marital status – not to mention their scandalous new daughter-in-law’s greatness with child!
Regardless of delivery room or the specifics of its space, Christ undoubtedly is born in an unlikely place of sure crowding and scant resources – like places to bed down for the night. The local pubs and eateries maybe even running short on food and drink. And the Lord’s turning water into wine lies 30-some-odd years hence!
And yet, the Lord makes a place there, in Bethlehem, and here, in our time and space, despite the inhospitable nature of our present conditions. Then, as the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight, God turns the tables of hospitality and welcome, drawing wider the circle of community, spicing things up with shepherds, other curious onlookers, perhaps even a black sheep or two.
Sometime later – according to Matthew’s Gospel, God farther stretches the circle of inclusion to the east and, with a star, catches the curious attention of three learned sky-watchers, who with their precious gifts are welcomed in. Who knew? The Lord always makes room!
Let me suggest, then, that making room is the best gift we might share with one another this Christmas.
Let us make room – for family, friends, and strangers alike. Let us make space – in our neighborhoods as well as in our hearts – for the widow and the orphan; the outcast, the pale, and the downtrodden.
No matter how differently they might act or sound when they first show up on our doorsteps, let us welcome each and every blessed one of them – with appreciation for the gifts of their presence among us, and with gratitude for the gifts and talents they bring in support of the common good. For this is Good News of great joy for all people.
Hear that Good News in the “The Crippled Lamb” by Max Lucado:
A little boy once dreamed sweet dreams of playing Joseph in the annual Christmas pageant.
But he didn’t get the part. He was cast as the innkeeper. The little boy was disappointed. Well, let’s be frank: A more-apt description would be foot-stomping angry. So, on the night of the performance, the precocious, scorned urchin decided to turn up the drama with a surprising-but-quite-faithful plot twist.
As usual, Joseph asks about lodging for him and Mary, and in the audience, the eager crowd of parents and grandparents are siting anxiously on the edges of their seats – waiting with baited breath and recording iPhones for the innkeeper to declare: “There’s no room in the inn.”
But no. In the boy’s impromptu rewrite, the innkeeper changes his tune.
He says to Mary and Joseph, “Sure, I’ve got the best room in the inn. You can have mine.” And as if on cue, thunderous laughter, raucous guffaws, and explosive spit-takes fill the cafe-gym-atorium that fateful night.
After his red-faced parents hauled him home that night, mom and dad demanded to know why on earth he changed the classic telling of the first Christmas. The boy answered, calmly, that he was just doing what he learned in church from the grown-ups around him.
Namely, that followers of Jesus always give God their best. Always! Always the best to God, always the best to God’s people! Even if it means changing the narrative, relying not on your own understanding but in all your ways trusting God to direct the words of your mouth, the meditations of your hearts, the work of your hands, and the movements of your feet.
You make room, because God makes room. The angels tell the shepherds, and they make room. Wise Men follow a star, and room is made for them, too. There’s always room! There’s always space! There’s always plenty of good room and sacred space. Just choose your seat, sit down, and find peace. There’s always enough!
My encouragement to you this silent night is thus:
Acknowledge that you and most everyone else are weary from grief, war, pandemics, political strife, personal and corporate failings. The list of sins and trespasses continues ad infinitum, even as the deficit of grace between heaven and earth grows ever larger.
Children struggle to understand all the chaos and yearn for safe places and trusted adults. Teen-age angst and unhealthy coping behaviors are off the charts, and young adults gaze into a future that looks increasingly darker. Moms and dads woefully spend fitful nights of sleep wondering what they did wrong, or what they could or should have done better or differently – and the painful answer is “nothing.”
Yet, despite the happenstance of such brokenness, rejoicing still blossoms when we encounter life together: When we change the story as it might seem to be and make room for collective moments to rejoice.
So let us lean not on our own understanding but in all our ways trust God to direct our paths, offering God our best by – among our other grateful responses – making room for the other. The rubber of faith meets the road of life in this: The room we make and the space we create allow a weary world to rejoice, in finding assurance that indeed there is enough.
Make room, make space. There’s plenty to go around. Live simply, so others can simply live. A report from CBS’s Steve Hartman buoys my sagging hope in the arrival to earth of God’s Kingdom – blessed relief, the surprise of the unexpected, during long, dark seasons of cold, cruel nights.
Sisters and brothers, friends and neighbors, the work of Christmas is only just beginning. The Lord calls us to continue his holy work of welcome and hospitality long after the decorations come down and the carols fall silent.
Listen to the Word that God has spoken,
listen to the One who is close at hand.
Listen to the Voice who began Creation,
listen even if you don’t understand.
Pastor Grant M. VanderVelden shared this message during worship on Christmas Eve, 2023, at First Presbyterian Church in Waukon, Iowa, USA. Scholarship, commentary, and reflection by Cecelia D. Armstrong and Max Lucado inform the message. How does a weary world rejoice?” is the theme for this year’s Advent and Christmas. It draws on resources from SantifiedArt.org. Previous sermons in this series are available at FirstPresWaukon.com/sermons/.