Holiday Inn

 

Holiday Inn

 

Luke 2:1-14, (15-20)
2:1 In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered.

2:2 This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria.

2:3 All went to their own towns to be registered.

2:4 Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David.

2:5 He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child.

2:6 While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child.

2:7 And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

2:8 In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night.

2:9 Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.

2:10 But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for see--I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people:

2:11 to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.

2:12 This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger."

2:13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,

2:14 "Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!"

2:15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us."

2:16 So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger.

2:17 When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child;

2:18 and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them.

2:19 But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.

2:20 The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

 

I’ve probably told this story before, but when my brothers and I were kids, our family vacations were largely unplanned. A destination was chosen by my parents, we’d pile into the car, and away we’d go. Some of this lack of planning was due to my mom’s career as a nurse, and one who worked mostly 11 to 7, so when she got time off, we took off. However, my dad liked the serendipity of “just going,” and loved to drive. I’m sure the economic realities crept in, too, as the companies my dad worked for as a bookkeeper just kept being bought out and then moved most of their office staff to Houston or Chicago, and we weren’t leaving Oil City, so in my childhood, he had to keep finding new jobs. Hence, we weren’t “made of money,” as they say. 

 

Our vacations were in the Summer, while we were off school, and the destinations chosen were usually very popular places for middle class motorists, so we were almost always fighting the crowds, but none so much as when it was time to find a motel, many of which were out of our price range. As the sun began to set, we’d begin stopping at cheap motels that either had “Vacancy” signs illuminated, or didn’t have one at all. We’d all stay in the car while my dad went in to check. He’d often return to the car with a report that either there was no vacancy OR the motel “wanted too much.” Sometimes we would drive for two or three hours around these popular vacation spots looking for an “affordable” motel room. As the oldest boy of three, I can remember the exhilaration of dad finally saying, “This one’s good.” Once we got into the motel room, my siblings and I would scour the place just to “check it out.” We liked to collect the tiny soap bars, and see if there was a radio in the room so we could try to listen to Pirate baseball games. Cheap motels had a certain “air” about them, usually had really ugly carpet chosen to hide the dirt, and if they had air-conditioning, it was one of those window units that sounded like a Boeing 707, if it worked at all. But for three boys who loved to travel, it was a treat, and we sure loved those vacations. I remember staying in one very tiny room in a bargain motel on the Canadian side of Niagara Falls (back before it became such a commercial “potpourri”). I could lie in bed and hear the roar of the falls, both because of the motel’s proximity to them, and its paper-thin walls.

 

While I don’t recall the destination, I remember one year our search for a motel room was dragging on and on. Even my patient parents were beginning to get discouraged, with each place either filled or “too pricey.” Back in the day, about the only motel chain that was advertising on TV was the recently-founded Holiday Inn chain. They claimed to be “family friendly” and at affordable rates. Being an avid TV watcher and having seen their ads, as that evening’s search lingered on, there on the horizon was one of these new Holiday Inns. They were unmistakable, with their large, bright green signs populated by more neon than a traveling carnival. I shouted, “Dad, stop HERE, stop HERE!” He pulled the car into their spacious parking lot, and there on the giant sign was the brightly lit “Vacancy” notice. Of course, I had to offer my endorsement of this “family” motel, garnered from my TV expertise. Dad kind of shook his head in the negative, but responded, “OK, I’ll check it out.” As he walked toward the door to the front desk, my next-youngest brother and I couldn’t help but notice that this Holiday Inn had a pool that was open at night, and it was actually filled with water! We were so excited. As our dad returned to the car, however, our hopes were dashed as he exclaimed, “Those people are CRAZY! They want $40 a NIGHT for a room!” And on we drove…

 

Each year, when I read the birth narrative of our Lord Jesus Christ from the second chapter of Luke, I can sympathize with Joseph and his pregnant betrothed, Mary, when they arrive in Bethlehem to find a “No Vacancy” sign on the inn. I often wonder if the economics weighed in as well? Had Joseph enough scratch, might he have slipped the innkeeper an extra ten spot to get a space inside? Who knows. If you read the commentaries about Luke’s story, you find that there are doubts as to its accuracy, especially his dating of when it occurred. I know scholars have to study stuff, but is that really all that important? I remember late United Methodist scholar and storyteller, Michael Williams, telling a seminar crowd that when he would give a story, invariably, someone in the audience would ask if it was a “true” story. Williams would often respond, “Well, it OUGHT to be!” Stories can certainly impart “truths” without necessarily being true, or even accurate to facts. Think of the parables of Jesus. (We could get into a tussle over how some people attempt to take the Bible so literally that they are compelled to believe the parable of Job or those of Jesus MUST have been accounts of actual occurrences, or for them the Bible isn’t “true,” but it’s Christmas, so let’s not.) The “truth” of Luke’s story is best witnessed by it becoming such a beloved account of Jesus’ birth.

 

“Close the door—were you born in a BARN?”, my grandmother used to say. The Son of God and the Savior of the world was. Again, we can debate what kind of a “barn” it was, whether a cave hewn out of the hillside, or a wooden stable, such as the one portrayed in most of our Nativity scenes, but it doesn’t really matter. Luke tells us the newborn child was put into a manger, and that was a trough used to feed animals, so we can assume the animals of the inn’s paying guests were there. We also make the assumption that that the visiting shepherds probably brought at least some of their sheep with them, if not all of them. Obviously, our Nativity scenes—possibly like Luke’s tale—have less to do with historical accuracy and good journalism than “telling the story,” as they usually include a cow, a couple of sheep, and of course, the Magi, who surely did not make it for the birth. But in a quick glance at our Nativity treasures (or watching church children act out a tableau of the scene) we are instantly transported back to that magical night of Christ’s birth. Luke’s narrative takes us there with a few simple sentences. Some of the words I think of when revisiting that night are: tranquil, serene, blessed, hopeful, loving, and VACANCY! While there was “no room at the inn” for the strangers from Nazareth, there was room in the “barn,” and there was room for the wonderful cast Luke assembles…and there is room for all of us there, too.

 

The “It OUGHT to be” truth of Luke’s story may also be verified by imagining other ways the Son of God could have entered the world. Jesus could have just “shown up” one day, proclaiming himself as Messiah, and doing a few parlor tricks to prove his divinity. He could have ridden a meteor down from heaven, or come to town in a triumphant parade, possibly doing the trick of simultaneously riding on TWO beasts, as Matthew would later write. (Obviously, these scenarios assume he would arrive as an adult, and not be “born” into the world like a Dalai Lama.) Or, he could have been born to royalty, or been “adopted” by them, as was Moses—something for which there was biblical precedent. Had Christ’s arrival been any of these ways, I doubt we’d have the creche scene on the coffee table or have the children acting it out on the church stage. Luke’s story is too good NOT to be true. Even Spielberg couldn’t have done better—angels, humble shepherds, cooing animals, the watchful Joseph standing by, the beautiful, young Mary, and the “babe wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.” The story COMPELS us to revisit it, year after year, and to renew our love for the God who was born into our world, if not also for our questions for the Divine about what it all means.

 

Birth, itself, is a most magical thing. For those of us fortunate to be parents, we will never forget that moment when our firstborn made her or his appearance. It was a most miraculous and blessed thing! And yet, I had just “coached” my beloved through an experience that for her meant almost unimaginable pain and discomfort. To say that birthing a child is “labor intensive” is so much more than a play on words. As I held my little girl in my arms, I looked down at my spouse in amazement at what she had just wrought. Our lives would never be the same again, from this moment on. Sound familiar? In Jesus’ case, Mary’s pain was coupled with what Jesus must have experienced as he “emptied himself of the privileges of being God” and wound up in a feed trough. And yet, the love and exhilaration that envelop a birth cannot be matched. Is it any wonder that God chose this way to “tabernacle among us”? And then, as the mother’s pain and the father’s anxiety slowly give way to pure joy, friends and family begin to arrive to visit the new family. We never, ever forget those times. Such it is with the Christmas story, too. You want to talk about a Holiday Inn? Sit back and listen afresh to what Doctor Luke writes in the second chapter of his gospel!

 

Truth be told, we haven’t actually stayed in too many Holiday Inns. A number of years ago, though, when Dara’s family gathered to bury my beloved brother-in-law (Dara’s older brother) who died of a brain tumor, we all stayed at the same Holiday Inn Express. It was the saddest of times, and yet, the evening after the funeral, we took over the community room, with the blessing of the hotel management, broke out a little strong drink, and rejoiced together, both for Win’s life, and for the joy of being together to remember in that moment. Many stories were told, and some deep theological questions discussed, but overall, we just were present to each other. In those moments—ones we usually associate with mourning—that Holiday Inn was truly transformed into a Holiday Inn. Just like that stable in Bethlehem, it was more about the company that came together, and the “eternal” nature of deep love, than the actual occasion. 

 

Thanks to those motel-hunting trials of my childhood, THIS GUY doesn’t go ANYWHERE without a reservation! Now, this means some planning ahead, and in some ways it does put restrictions on how serendipitous a trip can be, but it is so nice to know there is a hotel room out there waiting for you with your name on it. As yet another Christmas Eve is upon us, and while theologians may continue to argue over the efficacy of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus and to whom it may benefit, I want to remind you that God TAKES RESERVATIONS! It’s called “salvation,” and by acknowledging that you want a room reserved with your name on it, you can get one booked right now, by trusting in the forgiveness, grace, and love of Jesus. Trust me, you don’t want to wait until the last minute to find your Holiday Inn!

 

One final thought from poet, Ann Weems:

 

"The Christmas Spirit"

 

The Christmas spirit is that hope

which tenaciously clings to the hearts of the faithful

and announces

in the face of any Herod the world can produce

and all the inn doors slammed in our faces

and all the dark nights of our souls

that with God all things still are possible,

that even now

unto us a Child is born!

 

Amen, and Merry Christmas, Dear Ones!