Is There Room At This Inn? A Christmas Eve Meditation

This morning I began to busy myself with tasks to prepare my family for our Christmas celebrations.  There is ironing, wrapping, cooking, and any number of other things that ought to be done – things that are part of a mother’s vocation.  But chancing upon this image, an important thought is stirred up…  

Is there room at this inn?

I see the man pictured here, turning the Holy Family away.  Surely, had he known that God was giving  him the opportunity of a lifetime – of an eternity – he would have opened his doors and given up his own bed so that the mother of God might birth the Savior of the World under his own roof!  But then there was another man given the same opportunity, and he said “YES” to the humble little family.  What was different in the second man’s heart?  And what graces must have abounded for the one who offered a roof to the King of the Universe?

It occurs to me that the first innkeeper must have been very busy.  With the Roman census going on, there were thousands of travelers on the roads, some with Bethlehem as their destination, some only passing through.  He had more than his usual amount of work to do, and was most likely doing his best to perform his earthly tasks well.  But in his concern for the temporal, in the business and bustle of doing perfectly good work… he missed out on a much greater good.

The Gospels revisit this thought later, when Christ is with Martha and Mary at their house in Bethany.  While Martha busies herself with the duties of the household, Mary sits at Christ’s feet to be truly present to Him – recognizing the eternal weight of the moment.

Is there room at THIS inn?  Is there room at MY inn?

At the end of the day – specifically at the end of THIS day – whether my gifts look like a magazine cover, whether my son’s pants have a little wrinkle left near the cuff doesn't matter.  I can check off my list till the cows come home, but all this little Baby in Bethlehem asks of me is a worthy place to rest in my heart.  A place made to welcome and honor Him.  A place free of the worry and the worldly… a place adorned with peace, love, and a humble awe at the miracle of His coming among us.

As He comes asking for a home in my heart, let me recognize Him and respond with open arms.  Let peace and love reign in my interactions with those around me.  Let prayer and praise be my offering to this babe, and let the holiness of this time shine brighter than the tinsel and lights which are merely the secular trappings of HIS day.  O come, O come, Emmanuel!