It is Christmas Eve Eve as I write this. The next few days are somewhat hectic, to say the least. What with Christmas Eve services tomorrow, and more family coming in, plus the celebrations of Christmas Day - which has the calendric bad form to appear on a Saturday this year. Which means that I will be doing final preparations for preaching on Sunday sometime on Christmas Day. Whew.
All of which means I was afraid that I wouldn’t get around to writing this bible study if I didn’t do it now. I was worried about everything else crowding it out. I was worried about it getting lost in the other excitement of the day. I was worried that I wouldn’t find room for it.
No room is, of course, a well known theme of Christmas. How many little bathrobed innkeepers over the years pronounced in a stern voice, there’s no room? How often have the holy couple gone door to door in the Las Posadas celebration only to hear “no room” again and again? We know that there was no room, we get it. It was a bad deal. A rough start for that little prince of peace.
But to be honest, I had moved on to other issues. Besides we are in Matthew this year. And that is Luke’s story. No trip to Bethlehem in Matthew, they are already there. No busy town with a lack of accommodations. No manger, no swaddling cloths (whatever that is), no “no room in the inn.” So, I hadn’t even thought of the no room motif.
Until I heard my new favorite song of the season. “No Room” by Todd Agnew. It isn’t a new song, came out on 2006, but I hadn’t heard it before. And it just gripped me this season. Here are some of the words:
There's no room...no room in the inn, / If you were someone important we might try to fit you in, / but there's no room in here for you. / There's no room...no room to lay your head, / If you were wealthy we might find you a bed, / but there's no room in here for you. / 'Cause I'm cold, and tired of working my whole life away, / Every hand, needing one thing more, comes knocking at my door, / I got a hundred people calling out my name today, and you come to my door, / And I can't care no more, unless you can save me.
The song is a duet, Joy Whitlock is the other singer - the innkeeper’s wife, I’m guessing. And they both just sound like two tired service industry workers who don’t have room in their busy lives for one more request, one more need to be filled. True to the legends though, they offer a stable and a manger, and that “should be fine for your little baby.” So, a little compassion works its way through their weariness.
A little compassion seems a rare thing these days. Oh, not among those we know and love. Compassion is all over for us. But on the world scene, on a global level, compassion seems lacking. It is all about security, all about advantage, all about debts and costs and power.
Matthew’s story is also about the lack of room for this Messiah. It is about a world that is hostile to a different way of being, a different set of priorities. From the beginning the world seeks to have its way with God’s plans for us.
Our Gospel for the Sunday after Christmas is a difficult one. I debated doing this bible study about the Christmas story, which will be the scripture for Friday night. But in the end decided to stick with the routine and prepare you for Sunday worship. But let me issue the parental advisory warning before inserting the text. Some scenes may be difficult for sensitive viewers. Read at your own risk.
Matthew 2:13-23 Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, "Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him." 14 Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, 15 and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, "Out of Egypt I have called my son." 16 When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men. 17 Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah: 18 "A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, because they are no more." 19 When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, 20 "Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child's life are dead." 21 Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. 22 But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee. 23 There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, "He will be called a Nazorean."
Unlike Luke, Matthew never says outright “there was no room for them.” But it seems to be written in every verse. There was no room for them in a world of violence and corruption. There was no room for them in a hometown ruled by a bloodthirsty tyrant. There was no room for them in a land that was a daily reminder of slavery and suffering. There was no room for them in a new hometown that was out on the edge of where the “good people” they grew up with lived.
But God was determined to make room. At so many points in this event it all could have come crashing down. There were those who could have said no, there were those who could have taken life of God’s instruments, it seemed such a fragile house of cards. And yet it was how God chose to work. And this was - and is - the world God chose to work in. Thanks be to God.
To say it is a messy world is an enormous understatement. But it is also to acknowledge that it is a world in need of saving. There is a lot in this story we don’t understand, and that Matthew doesn’t explain as he tells it. Why not send all the families of children running for their lives? Why not throw a bubble of protection over the innocents who are slaughtered in this story? We can tie ourselves up in knots trying to explain, trying to answer for God’s actions. We can’t do it with the gospel story any more than we can do it with modern day tragedies - natural disasters or human inhumanity.
So, if there aren’t answers here in this story in Matthew, what is there? Hope. Promise. A Savior. That is what Matthew offers here. Not answers, not explanations. Just hope.
Did you hear a thread in the song “No Room” I quoted earlier? A small opening, a grasping for hope. The innkeeper’s song powerfully depicts the burdens of living, but also a cry for help. Maybe it is offhand, maybe it is done with a sneer, or worldly cynicism. But it is there. “'Cause I'm cold, and tired of working my whole life away, / Every hand, needing one thing more, comes knocking at my door, / I got a hundred people screaming out my name, and I can't care no more, / You come, needing more when I got nothing, / What can you give me? Can you save me?”
To that plea Christmas comes and answers “Yes!”
Shalom,
Derek
All of which means I was afraid that I wouldn’t get around to writing this bible study if I didn’t do it now. I was worried about everything else crowding it out. I was worried about it getting lost in the other excitement of the day. I was worried that I wouldn’t find room for it.
No room is, of course, a well known theme of Christmas. How many little bathrobed innkeepers over the years pronounced in a stern voice, there’s no room? How often have the holy couple gone door to door in the Las Posadas celebration only to hear “no room” again and again? We know that there was no room, we get it. It was a bad deal. A rough start for that little prince of peace.
But to be honest, I had moved on to other issues. Besides we are in Matthew this year. And that is Luke’s story. No trip to Bethlehem in Matthew, they are already there. No busy town with a lack of accommodations. No manger, no swaddling cloths (whatever that is), no “no room in the inn.” So, I hadn’t even thought of the no room motif.
Until I heard my new favorite song of the season. “No Room” by Todd Agnew. It isn’t a new song, came out on 2006, but I hadn’t heard it before. And it just gripped me this season. Here are some of the words:
There's no room...no room in the inn, / If you were someone important we might try to fit you in, / but there's no room in here for you. / There's no room...no room to lay your head, / If you were wealthy we might find you a bed, / but there's no room in here for you. / 'Cause I'm cold, and tired of working my whole life away, / Every hand, needing one thing more, comes knocking at my door, / I got a hundred people calling out my name today, and you come to my door, / And I can't care no more, unless you can save me.
The song is a duet, Joy Whitlock is the other singer - the innkeeper’s wife, I’m guessing. And they both just sound like two tired service industry workers who don’t have room in their busy lives for one more request, one more need to be filled. True to the legends though, they offer a stable and a manger, and that “should be fine for your little baby.” So, a little compassion works its way through their weariness.
A little compassion seems a rare thing these days. Oh, not among those we know and love. Compassion is all over for us. But on the world scene, on a global level, compassion seems lacking. It is all about security, all about advantage, all about debts and costs and power.
Matthew’s story is also about the lack of room for this Messiah. It is about a world that is hostile to a different way of being, a different set of priorities. From the beginning the world seeks to have its way with God’s plans for us.
Our Gospel for the Sunday after Christmas is a difficult one. I debated doing this bible study about the Christmas story, which will be the scripture for Friday night. But in the end decided to stick with the routine and prepare you for Sunday worship. But let me issue the parental advisory warning before inserting the text. Some scenes may be difficult for sensitive viewers. Read at your own risk.
Matthew 2:13-23 Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, "Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him." 14 Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, 15 and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, "Out of Egypt I have called my son." 16 When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men. 17 Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah: 18 "A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, because they are no more." 19 When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, 20 "Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child's life are dead." 21 Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. 22 But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee. 23 There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, "He will be called a Nazorean."
Unlike Luke, Matthew never says outright “there was no room for them.” But it seems to be written in every verse. There was no room for them in a world of violence and corruption. There was no room for them in a hometown ruled by a bloodthirsty tyrant. There was no room for them in a land that was a daily reminder of slavery and suffering. There was no room for them in a new hometown that was out on the edge of where the “good people” they grew up with lived.
But God was determined to make room. At so many points in this event it all could have come crashing down. There were those who could have said no, there were those who could have taken life of God’s instruments, it seemed such a fragile house of cards. And yet it was how God chose to work. And this was - and is - the world God chose to work in. Thanks be to God.
To say it is a messy world is an enormous understatement. But it is also to acknowledge that it is a world in need of saving. There is a lot in this story we don’t understand, and that Matthew doesn’t explain as he tells it. Why not send all the families of children running for their lives? Why not throw a bubble of protection over the innocents who are slaughtered in this story? We can tie ourselves up in knots trying to explain, trying to answer for God’s actions. We can’t do it with the gospel story any more than we can do it with modern day tragedies - natural disasters or human inhumanity.
So, if there aren’t answers here in this story in Matthew, what is there? Hope. Promise. A Savior. That is what Matthew offers here. Not answers, not explanations. Just hope.
Did you hear a thread in the song “No Room” I quoted earlier? A small opening, a grasping for hope. The innkeeper’s song powerfully depicts the burdens of living, but also a cry for help. Maybe it is offhand, maybe it is done with a sneer, or worldly cynicism. But it is there. “'Cause I'm cold, and tired of working my whole life away, / Every hand, needing one thing more, comes knocking at my door, / I got a hundred people screaming out my name, and I can't care no more, / You come, needing more when I got nothing, / What can you give me? Can you save me?”
To that plea Christmas comes and answers “Yes!”
Shalom,
Derek
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