 The Missing Person |
For years we have suspected that someone is missing from the Christmas story. In his Gospel narrative Luke says that the infant Jesus was laid in a manger because there was "no room...in the inn." From this rather  spare account many Christians have conjectured that Joseph and Mary attempted to secure accommodations at a Bedouin inn or carvanserai in Bethlehem, but were turned away. (The place was oversold, perhaps?) Eventually they found shelter in a stable or cave that contained provender for domestic animals.
But the Gospel record as it is transmitted to us raises a problem in logistics. How did the couple (a) learn about the animal shelter, (b) ascertain its location, and (c) reach the desired haven? The stock figure of a hardhearted innkeeper is well known throughout 2,000 years of Christian tradition, although there is no actual reference to such a person in Scripture. Perhaps this person (assuming he was indeed present) indicated to Joseph with his thumb that there was a "place around back." That would take care of (a) and (b) but not necessarily (c). It is possible, to be sure, that an angel or some supernatural messenger guided the travelers to their shelter. That would be in keeping with other portions of the Christmas story. We may be pardoned, however, if we give rise to some speculations of our own. Assuming that the "multitude of the heavenly host" who appeared to the shepherds in the fields did not make it into town, we need another character to complete the cast. Who was the person that actually found a birthplace for the baby Jesus? Who was the link in the story? Who came up to Joseph, perhaps, as he stood outside the big goatskin tent, weary and desperate, and said to him, "Follow me. I will help you"? Remember it was probably close to dark (since the inn was full) and few torches were available. We may suppose this person might have been the hostler or stable boy who took care of the beasts of burden. Or perhaps it was a girl, the daughter of a guest, who noticed Mary's condition and realized an emergency was impending. Or it might have been just one of those nameless folk who appear in the streets at such times -- the little people who emerge for an instant onto the stage of history, do something beautiful, and are never heard from again. It makes us feel good to think about such a person. We can identify with him -- or her. We are so familiar with the figurine types in the Christmas crèche -- the shepherds, the wise men, the camels, the ox, the ass, even the innkeeper and the wicked king. But there is a person who could have been anybody. It might even have been one of us. We might have slipped up to Joseph, touched him on the sleeve, and whispered, "This way, sir." |
In Phillips Brooks' beloved hymn, "O Little Town of Bethlehem," the child Jesus is addressed in these words:
O holy Child of Bethlehem!
Descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin, and enter in,
Be born in us today!
There is no room for Christ in the inn because the inn is the world, and the world is sold out -- oversold in fact. Yet on every continent may be found the missing person of Bethlehem. On every continent are humble men and women, people who are sensitive to human need, beautiful people, who will whisper, "Come, Lord Jesus. There is a place for You to be born. It is here -- in my heart."
Joseph's Lullaby by Ron Klug
Sleep now, little one.
I will watch while you and your mother sleep.
I wish I could do more.
This straw is not good enough for you.
Back in Nazareth I'LL make a proper bed for you
of seasoned wood, smooth, strong, well-pegged.
A bed fit for a carpenter's son.
Just wait till be get back to Nazareth.
I'll teach you everything I know.
You'll learn to choose the cedarwood, eucalyptus and fir.
You'll learn to use the drawshave, ax and saw.
Your arms will grow strong, your hands rough -- like these.
You will bear the pungent smell of new wood
and wear shavings and sawdust in your hair.
You'll be a man whose life center
s
on hammer and nails and wood.
But for now, sleep, little Jesus, sleep