“And she gave birth to her first-born son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manager, because there was no place for them in the inn.” Lk 2:7
If you are like me, then over these past weeks you’ve made some extra space in your life. Maybe it’s the extra room in the trunk of your car for the gifts to be given out. Or perhaps it was the complete re-arranging of your home to fit in the Christmas tree and decorations. Then there’s the clearing off of a large flat surface so you can sit down and execute your Christmas mailing. Don’t forget the much needed space in the pantry for holiday cookies and that special dish you make every year at this time. And for those hosting the big dinner on Christmas day, there’s the attempt to squeeze as many chairs as possible around the table.
Now that Christmas Day is upon us, all the efforts above beg the question, is there any extra room at the inn of my heart for the baby Jesus this year? One of the things I’ve loved most since entering the convent 19 years ago is having a heightened sense of the liturgical seasons. Top on my list is Advent. Previously, Advent simply meant a calendar with 25 little doors to open, which may or may not have chocolate in them. Now I experience Advent as a season of waiting and anticipating. My desire is to be attentive to His coming and to prepare room in my heart to receive Him more deeply than before. I would be kidding you if I said I lived every Advent well, with my full attention on the coming birth of our Savior. I get distracted by this ‘busier time’ just like everyone else – giving out gifts and food to poor families, the start of our winter homeless shelter, parish missions, organizing the Christmas mailing, baking desserts. And each year, as the O Antiphons begin, I am pulled up short. We’re here already? It’s Christmas? I had the best of intentions… but, well, things got a little messy on the way.
Thank goodness Jesus is not put off by the mess.
If you think about the Nativity, really think about it, you’ll realize things were messy then too. Actually, Jesus chose to come into the mess of our world. Take a few minutes and read what the Gospels say about the birth of Jesus (Mt 1:18-2:12, Lk 2:1-20). You won’t find the stoic statues of your nativity set, nor the smiling animals lounging on pristine straw from your Christmas cards. Take what you read, then close your eyes, imagine the scenes and put yourself there. The discomfort of Joseph when considering to send Mary away and divorce her quietly. The scratchy fur of the donkey that Mary, in her third trimester, rode for 60+ miles. The noise and chaos of the crowds in Bethlehem for the census. The chill of the manger, the breathing of the animals, the smell of the straw. Messy, no? Any minute now the clouds will begin to part for the glory of the Lord to burst forth, accompanied by the angel proclaiming good news to the shepherds. This is the part I really like – the shepherds. Rough, uneducated men living outside with smelly animals. And please, be sure to note that these are the people whom the Lord chose to first tell of His birth. Hear their loud, raucous arrival at the manager. Be filled with their silent wonder at seeing the babe laying on the straw. And when the Star appears in the East, fall down on your knees next to the Wise Man bathed in its light, as his eyes fill with tears because he is overcome by God’s faithfulness to His promise.
This is Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us. With us in our mess, our joy, our sorrow, our sin, our wonder, our loneliness, our longing. In her book, The Reed of God, Caryll Houselander says, “It seems that this is Christ’s favorite way of being recognized, that He prefers to be known, not by His own human features, but by the quickening of His own life in the heart, which is the response to His coming.” Make a little more room today, this Christmas Day, amidst the wrapping paper and ribbons, the dessert and the dishes, to ponder His coming. Imagine it, smell it, hear it, feel it. And when you feel that quickening response of your heart, know He is there, He has come, to the inn of your heart, the one place that He is looking for room. Don’t worry about the mess. Throw wide open the doors, and let Him enter in.
- Sr. Monica