"The Innkeeper" By David Layman
Wednesday Evening, December 20, 2000
Luke 2:1-20
My name is Reuben. Some 2,000 years ago, I managed the Bethlehem khan,
what you might call an "inn" in English. Bethlehem was just a small
town, and I was just a young man, recently married. My father had
managed the Bethlehem inn before me, but he died unexpectedly that
year. So I took over, and then married. I married well! Ruth has
always had a loving heart. I'm not proud of what I was when I was
young. I grew up with what you might call "an attitude". Bethlehem was
such a small town, a nowhere kind of place. King David came from
Bethlehem 1,000 years ago, but it's pretty bad if a town's main claim to
fame is from something that happened 1,000 years ago! I was pretty
obnoxious back then. I despised where I was from, yet I thought I was
someone special because I was the son of a small business owner. We
used to look down on shepherds and make fun of them. We talked about
how rough and uncouth shepherds were, spending so much time out in the
fields with the sheep, about how dumb sheep were, and they were barely
one step ahead. I'm not proud of what I was like as a youth. It's
amazing Ruth ever married me.
With Dad's death, suddenly I was supposed to take over the inn, supposed
to be a grown man. I really missed Dad. And to tell you the truth, I
deeply regretted all the grief I caused him. Getting in fights with
shepherds, drinking too much, staying out too late. I still went to
synagogue--that was expected. But I intentionally tried not to get
anything out of it. Bunch of old men ran the place! Always ready to
point out someone else's faults. I can't blame Mom and Dad for the way
I was when I was a youth. My Mom and Dad were fine people. Dad died so
suddenly, I didn't have the chance to apologize for all the trouble I'd
caused him. I guess I thought if I straightened up a little, got
married, and became a successful innkeeper, I could redeem myself.
I was delighted to learn that Emperor Augustus decreed a special time of
registration for tax purposes. That meant the inn would have a lot of
business, with people coming back to their ancestral home to register.
A lot of these folks would stay with relatives still living in the area,
if they had any, and if there was room. But the economy hadn't been
good in Bethlehem for some time, and a lot of people had moved to places
like Galilee where the opportunities were greater. So there's no way
everybody coming back would be able to find shelter with family. My Dad
would never raise the rates during busy season. He'd say that would be
taking advantage of people. Well, I raised the rates and still filled
up the inn! We were turning folks away, except, of course, those who
showed up looking like they could pay top dollar to share some space.
Late in the day this man and his young wife showed up needing lodging.
Joseph and Mary were not well dressed. I mean, no rings, no signs of
any wealth and substance. I told them "Sorry. We're filled up."
Joseph said "But my wife is pregnant, and could deliver any time." I
said "Look, we only have so much room, and lots of women are expecting.
What you're offering to pay isn't sufficient. Sorry."
My wife, Ruth, heard me, and intervened. I'd told her never to make me
look bad in front of customers, but Ruth came over and said there was
fresh straw in the stable, and she would start a fire and make them
comfortable. Furthermore, they didn't need to pay anything; this one
was on us. I looked at Ruth with anger, but she looked right back at me
as if to say "I mean business, Reuben. We're going to help these
people." Ruth has spunk. I backed off.
You know what happened next. Mary gave birth to a son, and they named
him Jesus, "FOR HE WILL SAVE HIS PEOPLE FROM THEIR SINS." Ruth and I,
having recently married, didn't yet have children of our own. And I
wasn't too eager to see this newborn, but Ruth insisted. And I was
touched. I was like a lot of men, afraid I would drop him. But Mary
insisted I hold him. Such a tiny baby! Holding that little one in my
arms, seeing how helpless he was, thinking of how I was ready to turn
this couple away. I can't explain it--I just felt an awesome Presence
when I held this baby in my arms. Tears welled up in my eyes. I had to
get out of there as soon as possible. I handed the baby back to Mary,
said I needed to check the fire in the courtyard, bolted out of the
stable, found a quiet spot, and bawled my eyes out. For the first time
since my father died, I really cried. I cried because I'd lost him. I
cried from shame at what I was. I cried at wonder in the new life I
held in my arms.
Of course, I hadn't fooled Ruth for a minute. She gently talked with me
later about the conversation she had with Mary and Joseph, about how
this child was indeed to be God's child in a special way. When I woke
up later that night having heard some noise, I discovered shepherds with
an amazing look of joy and wonder in their eyes. I realized whatever
had happened to me had happened to them, too. We began to develop a new
relationship from that night on. No more fights, no more put downs of
shepherds. Following my wife's lead, I began to befriend Joseph and
Mary. I paid Joseph to do some carpentry work to fix up the inn. Got
some other folks to give him work as well. Found them a small home to
live in. Then, one night Joseph, Mary and baby Jesus had to flee in
haste. Herod's soldiers came and there was a terrible slaughter of
infants.
The years passed. The inn of Bethlehem did so well, I entertained
thoughts of moving. I heard about an inn becoming available in
Jerusalem, 6 miles away. A larger inn, in a larger town. It was a step
up for me. Ruth and I took our young family to the big city. My mother
had died. There was nothing really holding us in Bethlehem any more,
other than some good friendships. Now those friends stay at my inn when
they come to Jerusalem, and I don't try to gouge them. Our place in
Jerusalem has a large upper room, good for meetings and special
celebrations. I began to become a different person after that night
when Jesus was born.
I' in my fifties now. My kids are grown. Our inn in Jerusalem has
done well. For many years, I had lost all touch with Joseph and Mary.
I heard that after they fled to Egypt, when Herod died, they returned to
Nazareth. Then I heard Joseph died. Then one day, I heard there was a
big commotion at the Temple. Someone overturned the tables of the money
changers, and drove out those who were trying to make a fast buck in
God' house. When I heard the name of the one who did it was Jesus,
Jesus of Nazareth, that brought a smile to my face. I went and talked
with him. When I introduced myself, Jesus said " remember my mother
telling me about you, about when I was born!" I said "Jesus, these
money changers are what I used to be like. Before God touched my life
through your birth, and my good wife, Ruth, encouraged me to change. A
lot of the people who run the temple are hard hearted; you be careful.
And if you and your friends ever need a place to meet in Jerusalem, I
have a nice upper room that's yours for the asking. Just let me know."
That's my story. My parting advice: Don't fill all the space in your
hearts with other guests. Leave room for Jesus!
--
Rev. David Layman
First Presbyterian Church
Richmond, Indiana