ROOM IN YOUR
Luke 2:1-7
This first Sunday of Advent means, among other
things, that we start singing Christmas carols.
I love this time of year.
Someone wrote new titles for carols perhaps
attributed to those guys who write the IRS tax codes. Ready?
Okay: Nocturnal Quietude (Silent
Night); Listen, the Celestial Beings Lyrically Vocalize (Hark, the Herald Angels
Sing); Exuberance Designed for the Orbiting Sphere on Which Resides Humanity
(Joy to the world); Inquiring of the Virgin's Newborn Identity (What Child Is
This?); An Arrival at Zero-One-Hundred Hours during an Absence of Atmospheric
Activity (It Came upon a Midnight Clear)
You’re not thinking of taxes yet, but consider the
context of Jesus' birth. Augustus Caesar
did not seek popularity. When you read
his lips, it wasn't "No new taxes!"
On the contrary, it was more like "Bleed those turnips dry!" Every adult male was required to return to
the town of his birth for a census that would, in turn, be used as a tax roll.
We don't know the innkeeper’s name, but he had much
in common with other Innkeepers. Chaos. Every inn
filled. Pardon the pun,
it was a "taxing” situation. The
crowds had common needs, a warm bed, a roof
overhead. Mary and Joseph surely
wondered where they would find lodging, especially considering Mary’s
condition.
As it turned out, they were turned down. “No vacancy” signs were everywhere. Not a single bed could be found. But they were not turned out on their
ear. This unnamed innkeeper, sensitive
to the obvious need of this couple from the country, came to their rescue. He led them to a stable, where they were
shielded from the wind and where, in the end, the baby could be cradled in a
straw-lined feed trough.
Now, before you speculate about the innkeeper’s
generosity (or lack of it), consider the context. He deserves the benefit of the doubt. If his inn was maxed out, what options were
there? It’s impressive that the
innkeeper went out of his way to welcome Mary and Joseph into his life (as stressed-out
as it certainly was).
Perhaps the innkeeper knew the proverbs of Solomon,
and responded because of his faith.
"He who is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will
reward him for what he has done” (Prov.
Christmas is a season of the year when we are
gift-conscious.
We shop and buy and wrap and give
By spending what we need to live.
And, all the while, some gifts we get
Are ones we'd just as soon forget.
We stand in line to take them back,
And there ahead is Cousin Jack.
His gift to me is in my hand.
And no matter how I try to stand,
I can't conceal it.
He can see
The fate of what he gave to me.
But then I spy what he returns.
My costly gift he freely spurns.
How senseless it now seems to me
The fuss we make of gifts. Agree?
If all we do is take them
back,
Then wrap them in a paper sack.
It would be funny if it weren't half
true. So much of what we spend our money
on is either not needed or not fully appreciated. Maybe that's an overstatement. But listen.
If Christmas is Jesus' birthday, why aren’t we more concerned with what
we give him? One of the reasons is because
we get caught up in the frantic busyness of this season and get our eyes off
the Christ of Christmas.
Back to the innkeeper. The
innkeeper’s example shows us the kind of gifts Jesus enjoys. When we give of ourselves to people in need,
we are giving real gifts to the Lord.
The
I suspect you don’t have any homeless neighbors. Far from it. But, they have needs. Like that night in
A few years ago there was a push to consider our
homes as Lighthouses of prayer. It means
viewing your home as a place where God's people pray regularly for those nearby
who are lost in a sea of spiritual and emotional peril.
You know the struggles some of your neighbors may be
dealing with: depression, alcoholism,
parents with Alzheimer's, terminal illness, divorce, unemployment, children
with ADD, runaway teens. People need
us. People need a touch that offers the
healing grace of God, one we can provide.
As you pray for and then develop authentic
relationships with the people you live around, the love of God will shine out
like a comforting beam that provides direction to the harbor of salvation.
Touching our neighbors through acts of friendship,
grounded prayer, care, and sharing are tangible means by which we experience
the Christmas touch.
Making Christ-like connections during the holidays is
a way to express our thanks to a hospitable God who reached out to us in our
loneliness and invited us into his heart.
When we open the doors of our homes to people who are dying for
meaningful companionship, we let the Lord in, too. In
My prayer is that this Christmas season, you may take
advantage of the opportunity to "touch your neighbors with the love of God
in Christ by sharing your home with them.
In her book Open Heart, Open Home, Karen Mains
writes:
"Each of us can participate in some way in
evangelism through hospitality - the use of the home as a tool of
ministry. The genius of the home is that
it is universal to each Christian. We
all abide somewhere - in a room or a dormitory or a flat or a bungalow. In this
inhospitable world, a Christian home is a miracle to be shared.... If we
understand that we are stewards to a divine Master, we must consider why we are
in this place at this time in this town.
[The Lord] is not haphazard in his planning. Someone on this street
weeps behind closed doors - someone is crying.... The home of the Christian is a tool for
ministry. Ask the Lord how he wants you
to use it.
Gracious God, as we scatter to our gathering places (in
a variety of neighborhoods), we desire to touch those who live near us who fear
doctors' diagnoses, the challenges of aging parents, employment security, and
their eternal destination. Like the
innkeeper in
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