Christmas I – Nativity

The Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord

_{Isaiah 9:1-6; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-14}

She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

Has there ever been a Christmas pageant without an innkeeper? The boy stands at the door of the inn with fake beard, tussled hair and shakes his head that there is no room. Recall A Charlie Brown Christmas. Picture Pigpen and Frieda standing at the door of the inn in a cloud of dust.

Of all the characters in these Christmas pageants, does anyone really want to play the part of the innkeeper? Think about it. The innkeeper closes the door on Jesus…because there is no room. Is this simple act familiar to us? It should be.

Nations have no room for refugees and asylum seekers.

Cities have no room for the homeless and addicted.

Families have no room for their gay sons and daughters.

There are people who have no room for forgiveness.

Our society has no room for the lonely, elderly and infirm.

There are people who have no room for anyone who thinks differently than themselves.

No one has room for Palestinians.

Our medical system has no room for people without health insurance.

There are people who have no room for understanding and compassion.

Our church has no room for people who are divorced and remarried.

There are those among us who have no room for people of colour.

Does anyone have room for the Jews?

In a simple seemingly insignificant act like closing a door, people are told their lives are of no importance to anyone. No one wants to play the innkeeper in Christmas pageants but we often have no problem playing the part in real life.  “What is it you don’t understand about, NO Vacancy?!”

Did you ever consider that the act of the innkeeper; telling Joseph, Mary and Jesus that there is no room and closing the door on them, is the beginning of the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ? Is it not the first act of rejection of the Messiah?

The Trappist monk, Thomas Merton, wrote, “We live in the time of no room”.  And why is that? The reason is only one, fear. We are afraid of each other. We are afraid of difference. We are afraid of the unknown. We are afraid of exposing our weaknesses and vulnerabilities to another person who might use this knowledge against us. We are afraid of being judged. We are afraid of being rejected. We are afraid of being alone. So, like the innkeeper, we stand peering from behind doors ajar looking out to see if we will take the risk of encounter.

And yet it is to the door of this fearful world’s lodgings, Merton continues, in which there is absolutely no room for Him at all, Christ has come uninvited. Jesus is out of place in our world, and yet He must be in it because Christ’s place is with people for whom there is no room. His place is with those who do not belong, who are rejected because they are regarded as weak, different; don’t fit into preconceived ideas, those who are denied the status of persons. Christ is mysteriously present in those for whom there seems to be nothing but the world at its worst.

Merton reminds us that it is precisely into our chaotic, messy, fast-paced and wounded world that God chose to enter – continues to choose to enter. You may have noticed God, in Jesus, has not popped into history, fixed everything, and then gone back to heaven. God in Jesus entered human life to embrace us; to embrace the marginalized and forgotten, the voiceless and those we look down on, the fearful and the lonely. Jesus embraces the people in need and those who put people in need, that is, Jesus embraces both the people looking for room and the innkeepers of our world who close doors in their faces. Into how many of these categories do you fit?

As opposed to the cheery, naïve, and sentimental optimism of the culture’s holidays, the Christian experience of the holy days of Christmas embodies authentic hope. A hope that arises from our recognition that on the other side of the door is the Christ who draws near to us in our brokenness, loneliness and suffering. Hope is a door that swings inward into a place of light, warmth and hope.

In his inaugural homily as Bishop of Rome, John Paul II cried out, Open wide the doors for Christ! Do not be afraid to welcome Christ. To his saving power, open the boundaries of States, economic and political systems. Open the vast fields of culture, civilization and development. Do not be afraid!

Do not be afraid! It is the one invitation that is most voiced in the scriptures and for good reason. Fear keeps doors closed to Christ and his people.

Who is at each of our doors?

With apologies to Pigpen and Frieda, what kind of innkeeper will you be?

_{[See “The Time of the End Is the Time of No Room,” Thomas Merton, 1965, published in the volume, Raids on the Unspeakable.]}