We have had our first big snowfall of the season, but at least most people had the luxury of being able to stay home, safe in their houses. And we now have the advantage of living in a world that looks like a Christmas card. Much of the world doesn’t look like a Christmas card, even on Christmas, but it is still the coldest time of the year for people in the northern hemisphere. A time when it is nice to be inside. If you travel, one of the first things you’ll probably want to arrange is where you’re going to stay. Thankfully, there are many hotels and inns to stay in, no matter where you go. What a nice feeling it is, after traveling a long distance, to be able to check into your room, put your belongings down, and lie down.
I think we can all relate to that feeling, which is why we also have a reaction to the opposite: hearing a story about someone who could not find a place to stay, on a dark and cold night two thousand years ago.
Imagine Mary and Joseph, with their child about to be born, arriving in the bustling city of Bethlehem, hoping to find a room in an inn, and finding out that there isn’t one. That phrase, “There was no room for them in the inn,” is such a poignant image. It would be bad enough if they were just weary from their travels, but you have the added component that Mary is pregnant and due any moment, and they have to look not only for a place to sleep, but a place where she can give birth. Of course, many people who arrived in Bethlehem for the census did find a comfortable room, and it seems to add insult to injury that none of them could give up their spot for this pregnant mother. Especially given that we know who the baby will be: the Savior himself.
It almost seems like a tragedy that all they could find was a stable, and she had to give birth surrounded by animals, and the only place she could lay her baby down was a feeding trough, a manger.
But when we look more closely at the story, what first seems like a tragedy is actually beautifully fitting and perfect. It was not a mistake. It was not wrong that Jesus should have been born in that place. That was the best place for him to be.
Why? Because Jesus had come into the world not to be part of the power structure, not to be an important figure in the church of the day. Imagine if he had been born in a royal household, laid in an ornate bed in a palace. It might have seemed like the appropriate place from an external point of view. But imagine the environment he would have been raised in. He would have been surrounded by the power elite, and would have taken on that kind of thinking. If he were born into the hierarchy of the church, he would have adopted the “correct” thinking of the orthodoxy. And of course, people born into power want to preserve it – want to maintain the status quo. They want to defend the system that gave them power.
That is what the inn represents. The people who did get a room in the inn were the business leaders, the important people, the establishment. The “right” people. That was not the place for Jesus. Jesus did not come to congratulate or reinforce the position of the people in power. He didn’t come to tell the church leaders that what they were doing is correct, and they should carry on. He came with a new message, a message that would not go over well with the power elite.
Part of that message is that being “correct” is not the most important thing. Following the letter of the law without thinking about its spirit is not what leads to heaven. Later in life he would be confronted with a group of church leaders who kept trying to trap him with questions about the law. “The law says that you should do no work on the sabbath, and Jesus, you healed someone on the sabbath, so you broke that law.” They brought a woman to him who had been caught in adultery, and pointed out that the law said she should be stoned. What they had all forgotten is that doctrine, the law, should be connected to love. When a man is cured of a lifelong illness, the important thing is not what the doctrine says about when that took place – the important thing is to help them. When they caught that woman in adultery, they did not care what happened to her – only about the strict interpretation of the law.
And, it is worth noting, there were already many divisions within the Jewish church, and that is what happens when people become too focused on beliefs. In the story of the Good Samaritan, we forget how shocking that story would have been to the people hearing it. Now the term “good Samaritan” means a helpful, charitable person. But to the people in the audience, a Samaritan was someone to be scorned and despised. Why? Because their beliefs were different. Because they interpreted scripture differently. When people dig deep into doctrines, they always find something to differ about, and those differences split people apart.
Think of all the history of holy wars, of all the attempts in history to root out heretics, and correct their thinking once and for all. People lose sight of the irony that all religious teaching is about living a better life, finding a way to heaven, loving others – but in the course of trying to get it “right,” they turn cruel and heartless.
The same thing can happen in the modern day as well. It may not lead to a holy war, but you can imagine two people having an in-depth discussion about religious doctrine. They are both well-educated and have read a great deal. One is absolutely sure he is right. The other is equally sure she is right. They get into a long, complicated argument about what the correct way to interpret doctrine is. What is the nature of the trinity? Each one insists the other is wrong about how they see it, and start to imply that the other is not as smart as they are. The argument gets more and more heated. One suggests that the other is in danger of eternal damnation if they don’t correct their wrong-headed thinking. The other is indignant and insulted, and calls them a fool.
This goes on until one of them stops and says, “Wait a minute – this is crazy! We are friends! We are letting these beliefs get in the way of our relationship with each other. Which is more important? Our creeds and beliefs, our political views and theories? Or being kind and loving toward each other? We have known each other a long time, and have been good to each other. Let’s get back to that.”
Emanuel Swedenborg wrote about this problem in a number of places. In his work Secrets of Heaven, #1799(4), for example, he writes:
In the Christian world, it is doctrine that differentiates churches. Doctrine is the basis on which people call themselves Roman Catholic, Lutheran (or Evangelical), Calvinist (or Reformed), and other names as well. These names grow out of doctrine alone, which would never happen if we considered love for the Lord and charity for our neighbor the chief concern of faith. If we did, those distinctions would simply be differences of opinion on the mysteries of faith. True Christians would leave such issues up to the individual and the individual’s conscience. In their hearts they would say, “A person who lives as a Christian—who lives as the Lord teaches—is a real Christian.” One church would come out of all the different churches, and all disagreement due to doctrine alone would vanish. Even the hatred of one denomination for another would melt away in a moment, and the Lord’s kingdom would come on earth.
That is the Christianity that Jesus came to establish; that is the Lord’s coming to earth in the form of Jesus. Jesus came to deliver the message that how we live and love is the most important thing.
And that is why he was born in a feeding trough, among the animals. Those animals represent human feelings and affections. The feeding trough represents love and nurturing. We are here to feed each other, Jesus said.
The inn represents all those established belief systems and political systems and power structures. That is not why God took on human form. The Lord does not find a home in our abstract thinking, or our search for prestige or power. Jesus was uninterested in politics and earthly power. When asked how he felt about paying taxes to the Romans, he just said, “Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.” And God is love.
Jesus came to enter the human heart; the place we really live. The place where our feelings are nourished, like the animals being fed in the manger. The place where we care for each other. The core of life: those simple, ordinary, everyday feelings. Think of the contrast between what was going on in that inn – all the hustle and bustle, all the important people coming and going, conducting their business and being counted – and the quiet simplicity of the manger scene. People often interpret the meaning of the phrase “no room in the inn” to mean that we have no room for Jesus in our heart. Perhaps it is better to interpret it as: we have no room for Jesus in the beliefs we cling to because they preserve our power. The doctrine we hold onto because it makes us feel better than others. That is not where Jesus should be born. There will never be room for Jesus in that inn.
As King David said in Psalm 132, “I will not enter my house or go to my bed till I find a place for the Lord, a dwelling for the Mighty One of Jacob.” When we cultivate the simple things in life: being good to each other, sharing our sorrows and joys, then we create that dwelling place for the Lord. That kind of humble home is the perfect place for him to be born. Then the Lord can say of our heart, “This is my resting place for ever and ever; here I will sit enthroned, for I have desired it.”
And it is good to think that this is not something that happens once. The Lord must be born into our heart over and over. Every year, we are reminded that Christmas is a time to love, and we make room for love in our hearts. God comes closer and closer to us every time we make that room. And with it, the Lord brings infinite joy.
READINGS
Old Testament reading: Psalm 132:1-9, 14
Lord, remember David and all his self-denial.
He swore an oath to the Lord, he made a vow to the Mighty One of Jacob:
“I will not enter my house or go to my bed, I will allow no sleep to my eyes or slumber to my eyelids, till I find a place for the Lord, a dwelling for the Mighty One of Jacob.”
We heard it in Ephrathah, we came upon it in the fields of Jaar;
“Let us go to his dwelling place, let us worship at his footstool, saying,
Arise, Lord, and come to your resting place, you and the ark of your might.
May your priests be clothed with your righteousness; may your faithful people sing for joy.’”
For the Lord has chosen Zion, he has desired it for his dwelling, saying, “This is my resting place for ever and ever; here I will sit enthroned, for I have desired it.”
New Testament reading: Luke 2:1-7
In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to their own town to register.
So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem, the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
Reading from Swedenborg: Divine Love and Wisdom #240
There are two abilities within us, gifts from the Lord, that distinguish us from animals. One ability is that we can discern what is true and what is good. This ability is called “rationality,” and is an ability of our discernment. The other ability is that we can do what is true and what is good. This ability is called “freedom,” and is an ability of our volition. Because of our rationality, we can think what we want to think, either in favor of God or against God, in favor of our neighbor or against our neighbor. We can also intend and do what we are thinking, or when we see something evil and are afraid of the penalty, can use our freedom to refrain from doing it. It is because of these two abilities that we are hu- man and are distinguished from animals. These two abilities are gifts from the Lord within us. They come from him constantly and are never taken away, for if they were taken away, that would be the end of our humanity. The Lord lives in each of us, in the good and the evil alike, in these two abilities. They are the Lord’s dwelling in the human race, which is why everyone, whether good or evil, lives forever. However, the Lord’s dwelling within us is more intimate as we use these abilities to open the higher levels. By opening them, we come into consciousness of higher levels of love and wisdom and so come closer to the Lord. It makes sense, then, that as these levels are opened, we are in the Lord and the Lord is in us.