December 4, 2016

December 4, 2016

December 04, 2016

“People to meet in heaven:  the Innkeeper”


Luke 2:7



Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus.


You’ve heard of Bill Gates?  Of course you have!  He’s the founder of Microsoft, the largest computer software company in the world.  And not only is he incredibly smart, he’s incredibly rich.  At the moment, he’s worth just short of $83 billion, making him the wealthiest man in the world!


So you’ve heard of Bill Gates.  But have you ever heard of Gary Kildall?  I didn’t think so.


You see, Gary also created one of the very first operating systems for computers, what a friend called, “software magic,” a way to type words into a computer rather than one’s and zero’s.


But, as the story goes, when IBM came calling in 1980, he was out of town flying one of his planes.  Then when they finally did catch up with him, IBM offered to buy his system for $200,000, but Kildall wanted more.  So they made a deal with Gates instead.


To make a long story short, today, Gates is worth $83 billion, while Kildall died at the age of 52.


It was a missed opportunity.


And speaking of missed opportunities, remember Blockbuster Video?  Back about fifteen years ago, it was the fastest and easiest way to rent movies.  And that’s when Blockbuster also had the chance to buy some little startup company called “Netflix,” for a measly $50 million.  But Blockbuster was worth billions, with thousands of locations across the country and millions of customers.  Why should they bother to buy some puny little company called “Netflix”?


Well, today, they wish they had, because Blockbuster is gone and Netflix is worth $50 billion.


It was a missed opportunity.


When we think of missed opportunities, we can’t help but think of what happened in a little town called Bethlehem so long ago.


If you would, please turn with me in your Bible to page 1090 as I read the words of our text.  I’ll start at chapter 2, verse 1:  “In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered.  This was the first registration when Quirinius was governor of Syria.  And all went to be registered, each to his own town.  And Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the town of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, to be registered with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child.  And while they were they 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.”


You know the Christmas story, and you know it well, because you’ve heard it countless times before.  It’s truly the most beautiful story of all, as Christ, our Savior, was born.


But as beautiful and remarkable as it is, it tells of a missed opportunity.  Look again at the closing words of verse 7:  “…she wrapped Him in swaddling cloths and laid Him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.”


“No place”…”No room”…”Better go somewhere else.”


But all this seems so strange.  “No room in the inn”?!  How cold, heartless and cruel!


But the Jews in Jesus’ day weren’t cold, heartless, or cruel.  As one author put it, “These were not barbaric people or aboriginal tribes that sent their women off into the jungle to have their babies alone on a banana leaf.  They were civilized, intelligent, educated, and, above all, hospitable people who cared deeply about human life.”


As another author put it, “I don’t know how people were raised in Bible days, but if a stranger came to my house when I was young, and she was pregnant and about to give birth, my father and mother would have made me give up my bed, and I would have been the one sleeping in the barn with the animals.” 


Even more, in that place and time, hospitality was essential.  It was a “must.”  In the book of Deuteronomy chapter 10, God told the Israelites to “love the stranger.”  And Leviticus chapter 19 says, “If a stranger dwells with you in your land, you shall not mistreat him.” 


To deny anyone, especially a young, pregnant woman, a place to eat and sleep, not to mention give birth, would have been a disgrace!


Besides, Bethlehem was Joseph’s ancestral home, making him a descendant of the great King David himself!


Imagine if one of George Washington’s great-great-grandsons would return to his hometown of Alexandria, Virginia.  He’d get more than just the stable.


So what really happened in that little town called Bethlehem so long ago?


Believe it or not, quite a lot hinges on that little word, “inn.”  “There was no place for them in the inn.”


Well, what’s an inn?


If I were to ask any of you to describe an inn, you’d most likely tell me about a building with somewhere between ten and a hundred cube-like rooms, like Best Western or AmericInn.  And at the front desk, there’s a man or woman who hands out magnetic cards, extra soap and freshly-washed towels.  


But that’s likely not Bethlehem’s “inn” at all.  The town was just too small and too out of the way to have anything like a Holiday Inn.


Even more, Luke, the one who wrote this gospel account, was very specific when he wrote this text.  He was, after all, a doctor, a physician, a scientist.  As I mentioned last week, he interviewed eyewitnesses and cross-checked his sources.  He would be absolutely sure to get it right.


That’s why, when he wrote of Jesus’ birth, he didn’t use the word, “pandocheion,” like he did in the parable of the Good Samaritan.  That was an “inn.”  Instead, here, he used the word, “kataluma.”


Now you can translate that word “kataluma” as “inn.”  Many translations do.  But that’s really not the best translation.  A better translation would be, “guest room” or “guest chamber.”  And that changes everything!


As a matter of fact, the International Standard Version is one of only a few translations that gets it right.  It says:  “She wrapped Him in strips of cloth and laid Him in a feeding trough, because there was no place for them in the guest quarters.”


So what must have happened, as we give it our best guess, when Mary and Joseph first arrived in Bethlehem, the place was filled up.  Everyone did everything they could to accommodate the many who had come.  Living rooms were full.  Guest rooms were full.  And there wasn’t a couch to be had in anyone’s house.


So under the circumstances, the best place and the only place to give birth, would have been in the stable out back, far from prying eyes and wondering ears.  Sure there was an ox, a couple of lambs and a donkey.  Sure, the manger was filled with straw.  But it was a quiet place, a solitary place—a place where Mary could give birth to her first-born Son.


So you see, this homeowner, this “innkeeper,” under the absolute worst of circumstances, did everything he could.  Which means he wasn’t such a bad guy after all--which is why we want to meet him in heaven!


Is it any surprise that Jesus was born in a stable and laid in a manger?  It shouldn’t be.  After all, He didn’t come to meet our expectations or desires, to be what we wanted Him to be.  He came to take our sin and to be our Savior.


In the words of George MacDonald:  “We were all looking for a king to slay our foes and lift us high, but Thou camst a little Baby thing, that made a mother cry.”


The story is told of a little four-year-girl who couldn’t help but notice her family’s frustration as they were preparing to celebrate Christmas.  She heard her mother sigh when she received another unexpected present in the mail, and say, “Now I have to go and buy something for them.  But when will I have the time?”  And she could see her father’s frustration at the mail, even the emails, from semi-close friends.


But each night, as that family went to bed, they also prayed the Lord’s Prayer.  And that night, as four-year-olds sometimes get their words a little mixed up, instead of praying, “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us,” she prayed, “Forgive us our Christmases, as we forgive those who Christmas against us.”


So we too pray, “Lord, forgive us for our Christmases.  Forgive us for the times we put You second instead of first.  Forgive us for ever saying, ‘No room.’”  Then in the beauty and the wonder of the manger, we find the grace of God.


You know, the real Christmas story is not so much about an innkeeper, a stable or an inn.  It’s about our Savior Jesus who loved us so much, He would come to die for us.  And it’s about opening the door of your heart to the One who so desperately asks to dwell inside.


Can you, will you, let Him in?


As a hymnwriter once put it so well:  “Be near me, Lord Jesus; I ask Thee to stay close by me forever and love me, I pray.  Bless all the dear children in Thy tender care, and take us to heaven to live with Thee there.”



 


Dear Father, as we again celebrate Christmas this year, enable us, by Your grace, to make our hearts Your home.  This we ask in Jesus’ name.  Amen