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God in a Manger, Outside of the Inn

Rev Jeremy Schultz
December 24, 2009

Dear Friends...Wallace Purling was a special child. He had trouble keeping up with the other kids. He was big and clumsy, slow in movement and mind. But he was well liked and accepted by the other children with whom he had grown up. One Christmas, Wally was given the part of the innkeeper in the Christmas pageant. He got that part for one simple reason...it had the fewest lines. All he had to remember were two lines: "There is no room in the inn," and "No, I said. Begone!"

The rehearsals went well and the night of the pageant came. The crowd looked forward to seeing the children repeat the beautiful story of the Christ's birth in Bethlehem. The time came in the play when Joseph appeared, slowly walking across the stage, leading Mary to the door of the inn. He knocked and Wally opened the door.

Joseph said, "Please sir, my wife is pregnant and we seek a place to stay." Wally said, "There is no room in the inn." Joseph persisted, "But sir, look at my wife! Surely you can find a corner for us somewhere!" Wally said nothing. He just couldn't remember the second line. There was a long pause and the audience became tense with embarrassment for Wally. The prompter, off-stage whispered Wally's line: "No, I said! Begone!" "No, I said!," repeated Wally. "Begone!"

(Whew!) The audience relaxed, Joseph slowly turned and walked away...heading for the stable and its manger on the other side of the stage. All was well with the world! But Wally, instead of closing the door as he was supposed to, just stood there with tears rolling down his cheeks, watching the couple walk away. And then Wally Purling made this particular Christmas pageant different than any other one before or since. Wally shouted, "Wait! Don't go away, Joseph! Bring Mary back." And Wally's eyes turned from sadness to joy as he said, "You can have my room."

Well that particular story has been told and retold since it happened in 1968. It's become the stuff of legends, maybe a little like the innkeeper we imagine of the Nativity story from Luke 2. You do realize that the Gospel writer, Luke, doesn't even mention such a person, right? But we imagine him from verse 7, which reads, "and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped Him in cloths and placed Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn."

Real or imagined, we form a picture in our minds of what that scene could have looked like. We imagine a gruff, slightly overweight and awkward person, turning a helpless and desperate couple out into the cold. We imagine him telling his son who acts as his bellhop, "No, Samuel. Pick those bags up and take them around back to the stable. It's all we've got. It'll have to do." But you see – that's all we've got, at least of the innkeeper – just our conjecture, built upon that one phrase, "there was no room for them in the inn."

Shame on you, Bethlehem, Luther would write. How could anyone be so heartless and cruel! Were there no family members that would take the Holy Family in? Was there no one found who would take pity on such a couple so obviously in need? God became man and shivered in the cold because there was no room for them in the inn and apparently there was no room for them anywhere else. But God still came. God was still born for you – that God might meet your deepest need!

That's right. We need that God who was placed in the manger. All 7 pounds and 19 inches of Him (give or take a few.) We need Him with all of His wrinkles and redness and fists and fits. That was our God in the manger, who was born for us that holy night, and we needed Him. We needed all of Him.

You might not feel it at this particular moment in time. With presents bought and payments not due till January. With a new job and a life just getting back on track, you may be thinking, "I'm just here to sing Silent Night" or "I'm just here as a favor to my mom." You may feel that you're in no particular need of saving. Then again, you might know this season like so many others, as the loneliest time of the year. You may be missing your loved ones who are overseas fighting in a war, or living in another state or with the other set of parents. Or you may be mourning the loss of those who are not here anymore at all. Whether you feel your need or not, God was in that manger for you.

God became man in the womb of that young girl, Mary. He breathed his first breath of air in a smelly stable. Just think, Jesus had baby acne. He had dirty diapers. He had to learn how to walk and talk. Your God played with friends. Other parents probably thought that He was a nice boy. And if the synagogue leader only knew who it was listening to his sermons! This was God. This was divinity inside humanity. This was God coming near, being placed in a manger outside of the inn. And you need Him. Can I please tell you why? Because only by coming near could God pull you out! That's right. You and I needed saving.

That's what the sting of death and separation reminds you of. That's what the answer is to your unpaid obligations and your unmet needs. You needed a Savior. You needed one who would rescue you from all of your sins and pull you out of this world and carry you to His side in heaven. So you needed the One who was laid in the manger outside of the inn.

My advice is to let yourself come close to Him this evening. Come close enough so that you can smell that stable and see inside that manger. This was God, who would know the rejection of friends as He told His followers that they must love their enemies. This is the One who would have no place to lay down His head, even as He encouraged them to welcome in strangers. This was God who would follow His Father's will and go to the cross, even though everything inside of us would make us want to run in the opposite direction. This was God who would exchange the wood of a feed trough for the wood of a cross, but who would come back to life without even a splinter. You sure need Him! And so do I!

In reality, we're no better off than the friends and family or even the innkeeper that Joseph and Mary might have encountered. We may not be quick to make room for God. But God came and He made room for you!

Just this past week, I learned something that I never knew before! The word for "inn" used here in Luke 2:7 is used in only one other place in the entire Gospel of Luke. It's in Luke 22 where the word is translated "guest room." It's Holy Week, just before Jesus would die for our sins, that He says to Peter and John to "Find the owner of the house and say to him, "The Teacher says, 'Where is the guest room (or...the inn) where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?'"" And then He went into that guest room with His disciples. He washed their feet there and encouraged them even though they were scared. He told them how eagerly He desired to eat this meal with them, so that He could give them this incredible memorial of His love.

Do you see, friends? Our world did not have room for Him when he was so weak and helpless, just a tiny little baby; but for a weak and helpless world, for you and me, Christ Jesus has room! It is the upper room, where he shares his life and his love with us once again. It's in His House where He gives us His body and blood for our forgiveness and life.

Jesus always has room. So if you are looking for Him, He is here. He is here for you even if you had not until now known how much you needed Him. In His Word. In His Supper. In the manger...just outside the inn. Amen.