I have long ago come to realize that Christmas Eve is not the occasion for the preacher to offer a sermon that is full of deep theological points or is much too long. So, I will share two stories with you and leave you with a thought to ponder on this night which is replete with mystery and a sense of the holy.
Joey was big for his age--seven years old. Everyone wondered what role the teacher would give him in the annual Christmas play, especially since he was also a slow learner. Perhaps he could pull the curtain. To everyone's surprise the teacher gave Joey the role of the innkeeper. The boy of course was delighted. All he had to learn was one line: "There is no room in the inn." He had that down in no time.
Then came the night for the program. The parents took their places. Every seat in the church hall was filled. The children entered singing "Oh come all ye faithful." The lights dimmed. A hush moved over the audience. The curtain opened on Scene One. Mary and Joseph entered the stage and walked up to the inn. "Please sir, my wife is not well. Could we have a room for the night?"
Joey was ready for his line. He had rehearsed it all night. He began, "there is", and he hesitated. He started over again. There is. . .and again his mind went completely blank. Everyone was embarrassed for him, but poor Joey just didn't know what to do. Joseph thought he would improvise and started walking away toward the stable on stage left. Seeing him walking away, Joey in desperation called out: "Look, there's plenty of room at my house, just come on home with me."
This story got me thinking about those for whom there is no room in the inn, in other words, those for whom there is no recognition of their value as human beings, as those who like each of us are God’s beloved. We can all come up with our own list of those who might fit that description. And we may even know a few.
In one of the All in the Family episodes that aired some years ago Edith and Archie are attending Edith's high school class reunion. Edith encounters an old classmate by the name of Buck who, unlike his earlier days. had now become excessively obese. Edith and Buck have a delightful conversation about old times and the things that they did together, but remarkably Edith doesn't seem to notice how extremely heavy Buck has become.
Later, when Edith and Archie are talking, she says in her whiny voice "Archie, ain't Buck a beautiful person." Archie looks at her with a disgusted expression and says: "You're a pip, Edith. You know that. You and I look at the same guy and you see a beautiful person and I see a blimp. Edith gets a puzzled expression on her face and says something unknowingly profound, "Yeah, ain't it too bad."
I have great gratitude that those of us gathered here today have our place in the inn. We will be with family or friends, we will be warm, we will enjoy probably too much good food and maybe some grog, we may get presents. We will have cause to wish one another a Merry Christmas. But there are many people who won’t have any of these things. And, yes, Edith Bunker, “Ain’t it too bad.”
Many Christmases ago, after the Christmas Eve service, as she was leaving, a lovely Irish woman said to me in her delightful brogue, “It’s a night of miracles you know, Father. May one happen for you.” Well, I have experienced and seen many miracles since that night. Perhaps you have as well. As we continue our celebration of this sacred night in our comfortable homes, I wonder if we might think about how we can make a miracle happen for someone for whom and for whatever reason, there is no room in the inn—maybe not tonight or tomorrow but in the new year that is upon us.
For the Eternal Love seeks yet another manger upon which to lay its head—in the Bethlehem of our hearts where God is still born, angels still sing “Gloria in excelsis,” miracles still happen, and dreams come true.
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