No Vacancy (blink, blink)

And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. Luke 2.6–7

In the modern era of hotels.com and 1.800 reservation lines, the neon “No Vacancy” signs seem like ancient history to us. It’s a great sign for the merchants. It’s a terrible site to see for weary travelers desperately needing lodging for the night. Imagine the repercussions for Mary and Joseph.

Caesar’s census made everything difficult. 70 miles of road between Nazareth and Bethlehem; 70 miles of horrible anticipation came with every bump, with every cramp. Was this contraction the one? What did Joseph know beyond carpentry? What did Mary know? She was in her mid-teens and this was her first child?

What a strange whirlwind of events had overtaken their 2 young, innocent stories; a wonder, really, of prophecy fulfilled amidst their lives and God’s redeeming work in a desperate world. They’re caught up in a profound mystery, but encounters with their angelic visitors seemed just faint memories of the past. What they would give for shelter and warm fire.

At best, the circumstances were dire. She’s pregnant and at full term with labor pains setting in. He’s holding up the best he can and trying to a be a comfort to her, but a deadline loomed; imposed by the government demanding a census. Joseph just knew that a delivery in the crisp night air on a treacherous road was the nightmare about to come true. They couldn’t arrive at Bethlehem, too soon.

The cities offered minimal rest stops and knowing that Bethlehem was a must, they pressed on; past Sychar, beyond Jericho, through Jerusalem, until, finally, Bethlehem, the city of David, and the place of Joseph’s birth and, for now, the end of a long journey.

At least it seemed it was over, but we know that the story of Jesus birth doesn’t take place in a warm, safe room in the company of caring family and friends. The nativity takes shape in the stable. Such a stark surprise is there for us to ask the question, “Why? Why does the Savior come this way?”

Jesus’ birth comes together on the wisdom and will of a Sovereign God, but it seems that the priorities of people helped color the details.

Consider Joseph and Mary’s need for shelter. I’m sure every door was knocked with urgency. “C’mon! My wife, she’s about to give birth. It’s been a long journey. Please! Can you help us at all?”

Yet every door must have offered the same result. No place. No room. No vacancy.

Every home was full. The hospitality of town residents opening their homes to strangers from out of town with sincere hospitality was consumed by the sheer volume of people returning to Bethlehem. Family reunions filled homes. Welcomed guests found comfortable beds, waiting tables of food and drink, friendly conversation. Mary and Joseph found nothing and no one waiting for them in Bethlehem.

Although they would not have been the only 2 visitors to Bethlehem without a warm bed or ready meal for the night, nevertheless they were WITHOUT – and so was the unborn Jesus. Luke says it with such finality. no place for them in the inn.

Every Christmas nativity play, which mentions an innkeeper, makes the innkeeper a heartless capitalist. He probably has a hooked nose, a craggy voice, and counts his stacks of coins, as though he’s Ebenezer Scrooge. It reminds me of a song from a Christmas pop culture mainstay.

You’re a mean one Mr. Innkeeper. You really are a heel. You’re as cuddly as a cactus and as charming as an eel, Mr. Innkeeper! You’re a bad banana with a greasy black peel! You’re a monster, Mr. Innkeeper! Your heart’s an empty hole. Your brain is full of spiders. You’ve got garlic in your soul, Mr. Innkeeper! I wouldn’t touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole!

See, I knew that you’ve heard of this guy! The truth is that this traditional bad-guy innkeeper is more invention than reality. He was probably an invention of tradition that helps us feel better about ourselves. “We’re not heartless, capitalist Innkeepers, like that guy!”

Luke does not mean “inn” in terms of Holiday Inn or Days Inn or Comfort Inn, in other words, some merchant’s place of business for out-of-towners. Luke uses the word for “inn,” which actually means “a guest’s room” and it was used to refer to the upper room of the last Supper in Luke 22.

Houses in Bethlehem and its vicinity often had caves or stables at the back of the house where they kept their working farm animals to protect them from theft. Guest rooms were in the front of the house. Animal shelters were in in the back. And with every other room room filled in Bethlehem, an exhausted and weary Mary and Joseph must settle for the stable.

The dawn of the Savior’s birth found no comfortable place, no welcoming place. But it wasn’t because of a heartless Mr. Gri…, I mean Innkeeper. No one in Bethlehem was prepared for this birth!

Joseph, Mary, and Jesus; their first night together as a family came in a place we can only call an afterthought, the only place left, not because people intentionally wanted to leave them out of their homes, but because their homes were already filled.

Hospitality was abundant in Jerusalem that night, just not for Jesus. Guests found hot meals and warm blankets atop comfortable beds, but Mary wrapped Jesus in swaddling clothes and laid Him in a manger.

One temptation for every preacher is to preach a Christmas message in hopes that you’ll linger at the manger in between all of the shopping and the baking and the eating and the giving. But the lesson of Christmas is a lesson for life. Will there be any room for Jesus in your life?

The psalmist wrote.

Lift up your heads, O gates! And lift them up, O ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.  Psalms 24.9

The Psalmist rallies us to attention and expectancy with prophetic heralding.

Will He be a priority? Do we look for Him? Will we throw open our lives for the King of glory to come in? With worshipping hearts, will we welcome the wisdom and the work of His unfolding plans into our lives? Will He gain entrance that He might change our lives?

What’s the biggest thing happening in your life today? Does Jesus fit? Is He an expected guest? Does He have a room or is there no place?

Everyone has priorities. We either choose our priorities or let priorities choose us.