The Inn that Missed Its Chance

Amos R. Wells

(The Landlord speaks, A.D. 28.)

What could be done? The inn was full of folks!
His honor, Marcus Lucius, and his scribes
Who made the census: honorable men
From farthest Galilee, come hitherward
To be enrolled; high ladies and their lords;
The rich, the rabbis, such a noble throng
As Bethlehem had never seen before,
And may not see again. And there they were,
Close herded with their servants, till the inn
Was like a hive at swarming-time, and I
Was fairly crazed among them.

Could I know
That they were so important? Just the two,
No servants, just a workman sort of man,
Leading a donkey, and his wife thereon,
Drooping and pale, - I saw them not myself,
My servants must have driven them away;
But had I seen them, how was I to know?
Were inns to welcome stragglers, up and down
In all our towns from Beersheba to Dan,
Till He should come? And how were men to know?

There was a sign, they say, a heavenly light
Resplendent; but I had no time for stars.
And there were songs of angels in the air
Out on the hills: but how was I to hear
Amid the thousand clamors of an inn?

Of course, if I had known them, who they were,
And who was He that should be born that night, -
For now I learn that they will make Him King,
A second David who will ransom us
From these Philistine Romans, - who but He
That feeds an army with a loaf of bread,
And if a soldiers falls, He touches him
And up he leaps, uninjured? Had I known,
I would have turned the whole inn upside down,
His honor Marcus Lucius, and the rest,
And sent them all to stables, had I known.

So you have seen Him, stranger, and perhaps
Again will see him. Prithee say for me,
I did not know; and if He comes again
As He will surely come, with retinue,
And banners, and an army, tell my Lord
That all my inn is His, to make amends.

Alas! Alas! To miss a chance like that!
This inn that might be chief among them all,
The birthplace of Messiah, - had I known!

Is it beginning to look a lot like Christmas?

I was so shocked when I heard the statistic on the news that I had to research the finding myself to verify. It's true: 212 million Americans participated in Black Friday 2010. That's 212,000,000. That's two out of every three Americans. Take the elderly and the young and others simply incapable of holiday shopping out of the mix and, well, you apparently have a better chance at getting struck by lightning than finding someone who didn't shop on BF 2010.

What's more, it's estimated that we collectively spent $45 billion on BF. My calculator says that means the average shopper spent about $212 -- what's up with that number? -- on that single day alone. To put it in perspective, $212 can buy, what, about 106 Thanksgiving meals at your local soup kitchen? 212 million x 106 meals = feeding the entire world three square meals.

So we're spending a lot on one another this Christmas. We Americans are really, really good at that. It is ingrained in our conscience that Christmas is gifts. Consider: How many times have you been told about some unemployed person in your family or community, "John's been out of work for a couple months now and his bills are piling up. If we don't help him out by purchasing a few gifts, then his kids might not have a Christmas." I'm not denigrating the need for helping John out in that hypothetical situation, but do you see how we've equated gift buying and receiving with a holiday which celebrates the birth of our Lord? Exactly how did we get to that point?

And yet I sit here less than three weeks from the Big Day and I can't help but notice how Christmas seems to have fallen on hard times lately. I'm not talking about ACLU lawsuits over Nativity Scenes (those bullies!) or how insensitive people are for going all Koine on us and substituting X-mas for Christmas. I'm talking about how it suddenly seems that Christmas has lost its luster, even as we turn out in record numbers to the BF sales.

Children for one seem less excited than those of previous generations. After all, the most spoiled generation in world history already tends to be showered with gifts constantly throughout the year. What's the big deal about another day? Adults are in the same category...we're bored. I mean, how many years is the GPS deal going to be pressed on us as a hot holiday gift idea? Just how many tens of millions of cars already come with an unopened or barely used Tom Tom in the glove compartment? Oh sure, for the high-end buyers there is the novelty of 3-D tv. What's next: scratch-and-sniff?

I don't know, maybe I'm just getting older. In fact, I'm confident that my clumsy transition into adulthood has in some way helped to provoke this blog post. But somewhere deep down I believe that we are witnessing the beginning of the end of Christmas as we've known it since the mid 20th century. If true, this will create a massive void in the American conscience - as well as a massive paradigm shift for retailers who are already resorting to once-unthinkable measures to stave off their own demise.

What will fill the void? It is rather a question of Who. As we wrestle with so many inevitable changes which are threatening to undo our familiar national psyche and values, might we finally have room for the Lord who was first introduced to the world in a barn because there was no room for Him in an inn? I pray so.

Thou didst leave Thy throne and Thy kingly crown
When Thou camest to earth for me;
But in Bethlehem's home was there found
No room for Thy holy nativity.
O come to my heart, Lord Jesus!
There is room in my heart for Thee.