Text used – Luke 2:1-20
And [Mary] 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.
Luke 2:7
“Can you spare a room?”
No.
“My wife and I just got into town.
Can you spare a room?”
No.
“My wife is pregnant,
and we’ve been traveling for days.
Can you spare a room?”
No.
“We’re here for the census.
We’ll be gone before you know it.
We just need a place to stay
for a couple of days.
Can you spare a room?”
No.
No.
No.
Doors closed –
some gently,
reluctantly,
compassionately,
sympathetically …
but still closed;
Doors closed –
some quickly,
forcefully,
suspiciously,
uncaringly …
for we are strangers here,
and we don’t belong.
But God came anyway –
full of grace and truth,
full of promise and potential
and all the uncertainty
and all the hazards
and all the chaos
and all the mess
and all the blunders
and all the blessedness potential can possibly bring …
God came anyway –
full of grace and truth,
full of the discordantly sweet sound
of a laboring mother
crying out in pain and boundless love,
crying out in hurt and hope,
crying out in surrender and sacredness,
bringing life …
full of the discordantly sweet sound
of a squalling baby
new lungs
new breath
new cry
new born.
God came anyway.
And here we are now,
centuries upon centuries,
miles upon miles,
civilizations upon civilizations
away from that day,
that place,
those “no”s,
those doors,
And still, God comes anyway
knocking,
asking,
seeking,
hoping
to find an open space,
an open home,
an open heart,
an open life …
How often do we fling wide the door
and let God in?
So full of “no” in our parenting and “no” in our politics …
So full of “no” in our finances and “no” in our fears …
So full of “no” in our doubts and “no” in our diets …
So full of “no” in our newscasts and “no” in our neighborhoods …
So full of “no”
at every step,
at every turn,
at every possibility,
at every street corner,
at every border,
at every desperate cry for help.
So
full
of
“no.”
“Can you spare a room?” Joseph begged.
No.
“Can you spare a room?” Jesus asks.
No?
But God come anyway –
full of grace and truth,
full of promise and potential
and all the faith
and all the hope
and all the reassurance
and all the courageousness
and all the grace
and all the blessedness potential can possibly bring …
God comes
into the places in our countries and cities
where doors close in the faces
of those in need of hope,
of those in need of healing,
of those in need of recovery,
of those in need of a warm bed
and a hot meal
and a safe space …
into the places in our neighborhoods and our homes
where doors close in the faces
of hurt feelings,
of angry words,
of inflated misunderstandings,
of past wounds that have gone untouched
and untended
and unhealed for far too long …
into the places in our lives and our hearts
where doors close
out of fear,
out of distrust,
out of anger,
out of self-doubt that has led to anxiety
and depression
and self-loathing for far too long …
We can try to close the doors –
the doors to our homes,
the doors to our cities,
the doors to our countries,
the doors to our hearts,
but God comes anyway.
We can try to whisper our “no”s
in the farthest, deepest corners of our hearts.
We can try to shout our “no”s
from every rooftop and treetop,
every billboard and pop-up,
every frustrated retort and impatient comeback,
every wordless wail and stifled sob,
but God comes anyway.
God comes,
not forcefully,
storming down doors
and talking over our “no”s,
but tenderly,
lovingly,
hopefully,
as a child who just wants to be held
and kept
and treasured.
God comes,
not impatiently,
waiting only moments
before storming off again,
but steadily,
enduringly,
hopefully,
as a child who just wants to be held
and seen
and adored.
God comes,
not because God has to,
not because God needs us
to keep the universe spinning,
but because we need God –
deeply,
fiercely,
unendingly,
as a child needs someone to hold them
and watch over them
and love them unconditionally.
And so God came.
And so God comes.
Every minute.
Every day.
Every heartbeat.
Every need.
God comes anyway.
Alleluia.
And amen.