Not at the Inn

Over 2,000 years ago there was a small town in Judea with with a then population of about 300 persons. During one week, late in the year, it had a great deal more people due to a census being undertaken by the Roman authorities. Apparently the census record did not survive so we could have an actual accounting of the total population of the small town. Bethlehem.  Bethlehem is still small by today's standards with a 2017 population of about 28,000. As we all know Bethlehem achieved notoriety as the birthplace of Jesus Christ. The Gospel of Luke gives the most famous account of the birth of Christ. This post will be about one aspect of the birth of Christ--his birth not occurring at the inn in Bethlehem.

Purported place of Birth of Christ
Church of the Nativity

Most of us are familiar with this very basic exhortation from the Gospel of Luke: Mary "gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn" Some translations replace "inn" with where "traveler's lodged", or "guest room", but the meaning is the same-- there was no space for the couple at the bed and breakfast, or Budget Inn. To get around in this era most people walked, so towns, or rest stops, were generally not more than about five or six miles apart. Joseph and his new, and young wife, Mary, traveled about 70 miles south from Nazareth to reach Bethlehem for a census ordered by Caesar Augustus. The small community was overflowing with people to be counted.

View of part of Church of the Nativity

Joseph and Mary arrived for the census, and sometime later they attempted to find a place to spend the night. But, as one could expect with a census going on, there is no extra lodging available. I have long wondered why the innkeeper did not give up his room or perhaps ask one of the room holders if they may be willing to accommodate a pregnant woman and her partner. As we know no one gave up their room, or offered a room in their house. I always thought the innkeeper was a poster child of the uncharitable by failing to give up his room. After all, on his doorstep is a  man, and a very pregnant woman, and even I would have enough sense to recognize the situation. Mary being the Virgin picked by God, perhaps showed no signs of pending birth, other than her large tummy.  Did she have labor pains?  Had God kept her from the "minor discomfort" of birthing a child (the term "minor discomfort was used by a doctor in one our birth preparation classes 30 years ago)? For years, in my mind, I have questioned the innkeeper's actions. If one believes that God plans all things, then God knew they would not find room at the inn and hence why put the innkeeper to blame? If given some sense of free will to act, then yes, some of the innkeeper's actions need to be questioned.

Manger Square

Some argue that Mary probably had more privacy in a stable, as inns at the time were crowded and not very comfortable places; there is no indication this statement came from the Hospitality Association. The question also arises as to why Joseph and Mary did not stay with relatives? (Were all the Airbnb's booked?) After all, Joseph was from the house and lineage of David, which persons had to report to Bethlehem, according to the Gospel. Perhaps the relatives had all moved out of Bethlehem by that point in time; second, maybe any relatives who lived there were already full with other relatives; or maybe they did not wish to put up a relative involved in scandal. Think about it, here was Joe with a pregnant teenage girl, who had a child conceived before they were married. Premarital intercourse, and of course such a pregnancy that results, was an event of extreme scandal. How many relatives would have thought that God had a hand in the pregnancy, and that Joseph was told to marry her?

Manger Square in later afternoon

 

Thus, did Joe have relatives who shunned him and his new wife? The innkeeper did not have a room available, but he did have a place where animals stayed, commonly referred to as a stable. The stable was likely a cave in the limestone rock common to this area. Bethlehem had a great deal of limestone and rock outcroppings.  Interaction with water dissolves the main component of the rock resulting in crevices and caves. When I first thought about writing a blog post on the matter, I was going to go after the innkeeper, for not being, well Christian, before Christianity. But, then, looking through some old information from my parents I came across a set of six typed cards, probably from many years ago, when at least one of them was in school. The index cards contained the verses to a poem by Joyce Kilmer (he of the poems "Trees" and the "Rouge Bouquet") titled: "Gates and Doors." (While undated, some date the poem to 1912 or 1913.)

Moon over street behind Church of the Nativity

This poem threw everything I was thinking about upside down. Kilmer, who died at age 31 in 1918 while serving in what we now refer to as WWI, makes positive references to the innkeeper. In the first stanza he writes: 

There was a gentle hostler
     (And blessed be his name)
He opened up the stable
     The night Our Lady came.
Our Lady and Saint Joseph,
     He gave them food and bed
And Jesus Christ has given him
     A glory around his head.

He credits the innkeeper for at least letting them stay in the stable, rather than dissing the person. Later in the poem, in the third stanza, he writes of the innkeeper in a similar positive manner:

There was a courteous hostler 

      (He is in Heaven to-night)

He held our Lady's bridle

      And helped her to alight;

He spread clean straw before her

     Whereon she might lie down,

And Jesus Christ has given him

     An everlasting crown.

 And in the fifth stanza he has this to say:

There was a joyous hostler
     who knelt on Christmas morn
Beside the radiant manger
     Wherein his Lord was born.
His heart was full of laughter,
     His soul was full of bliss
When Jesus, on his Mother's lap,
     Gave him His hand to kiss.

Rather than focus on the fact that the innkeeper did not give his room, or kick someone out of a room, Kilmer takes some poetic license and praises the innkeeper for what he did do, giving them space in the stable. I have to say, I never thought of giving the hostler an everlasting crown, much less any credit at all. My wife says I well live up to my name sake, St Thomas--he who doubts. What Kilmer shows is that I, like many of us, look to faults rather than positives (although I still don't think there were many positives about the Packer special team performance against the Bears on Sunday night, Dec 12, or again on Sunday Dec 19 against the Ravens. I guess Mason Crosby not missing an extra point in the past couple games is a good thing for the Packers).

Kilmer could have left the poem with a story about the young couple and what the hostler did. But, his even numbered stanzas stand by making demands of us. Here is the second stanza: 

So let the gate swing open
     However poor the yard,
Lest weary people visit you
     And find their passage barred;
Unlatch the door at midnight
     And let your lantern's glow
Shine out to guide the traveler's feet
     To you across the snow.

Then we are met with the fourth stanza, which we could interpret as meaning only the birth of Jesus as the guest, but a wider interpretation may be more appropriate. The fourth stanza asks of us to unlock our door:

Unlock the door this evening
     And let your gate swing wide,
Let all who ask for shelter
     Come speedily inside.
What if your yard be narrow?
     What if your house be small?
There is a Guest is coming
    Will glorify it all.

Why leave open a door given our times of break-ins, smash and grabs and car thefts? As Pope Francis says, "don't let fear keep you from welcoming a stranger." We all have our justifiable fears in this day and age and welcoming strangers may be something we all would question. In the final stanza the Pope and Kilmer seem to be on the same page. A wider reading of this stanza would be one directing us to not just literally unlock the door and open the gate, but do that for our hearts and our soul for the Christ child. By doing so for Christ, we do it for all.

Unbar your heart this evening

     And keep no strangers out,

Take from your soul's great portal

     The barrier of doubt.

To humble folk and weary

     Give heart welcoming,

Your breast shall be to-morrow

     The cradle of a King.

Instead of focusing on what the innkeeper did not do, Kilmer focuses on what he did do to assist the young couple. I guess he should not be disparaged, as I originally thought, because he did do something. What is interesting is that Kilmer juxtaposes the action of the innkeeper (the odd numbered stanzas) with the even numbered stanzas which focus on us--he asks us to keep our doors and gates open, and in doing so we may not what goodness we may find. 

Nativity Set

However, the stanzas related to us could be metaphorical--that is beyond the literal meaning, it may also mean that we have to make room at our own inn--our own heart for Christ the Savior.  This comes to me from the first part of the last stanza--"Unbar your heart this evening"; this is followed up slightly later with "Take from your soul's great portal, the barrier of doubt." In doing so, we should look to others, for giving rather than receiving, for service rather than obtaining. As Eric Hollis, OSB wrote earlier this week: In the best season of the year there is no gift more thoughtful than an extra dollop of love for those who need it most." 

Shepherd's Fields were located in this area

That is the story of lodging on the first Christmas in a small Judean town. I think I would do well to recall how Joyce Kilmer looked at the positive aspect of the hosteler lending his stable for the birth of Christ.  As much as I try I am not sure there is a positive message in the Packer special team play this season. Christ was not born at the inn, but being born in a stable was more consistent with his overall message of assisting the poor and the downtrodden--of which there are many--people who lost love ones in Waukesha, senseless violence in our streets and stores, lives lost to natural disaster, and refugees seeking a better life--not unlike those from Afghanistan. Kilmer  suggests that we need to open the door, or gate, to our own heart to allow the love of Christ to enter. So, while there may not have been room at the inn for the birth of Jesus, we need to open our hearts and let Jesus in. That is the real lesson of Christmas. What did not happen at the Inn is really not the important part, the important part is the lesson we learn about letting Christ In.