The high point of the first half of Kindergarten at my elementary school was the Nativity Play. Parents jockeyed positions in hopes that their child might end up with one of the main roles instead of being just one of the “angel choir,” those who didn’t have a named part but just sang along with to the music while wearing haloes. I was ecstatic to be chosen as the “Innkeeper.” Over and over, I rehearsed in front of a mirror my crossed arms and dramatic shaking of my head so I could truly convey to Mary and Joseph that I had no place for them to sleep. I simply took it on faith that my character was an integral part of the story of the birth of Jesus.
As so often happens, though, I grew up and discovered that some of the things I thought to be true in life (and especially in the Bible) were not the way I thought they were. I learned that Joseph and Mary faced a much different picture of lodging than I had ever imagined. At the time of the birth of Jesus, most travelers would not have looked for an “inn” as a place to stay. Instead, they would have sought out a relative or a friend’s relatives who would allow them to stay in their house in a room specifically planned for a visitor. A wonderful example of this idea can be seen in Mark and Luke’s Gospels when Jesus sent two of his disciples to prepare a place for them to celebrate the Passover.
Jesus’s birth in a stable (that we believe actually was a cave used for this purpose rather than a building like a modern barn) did not occur due to an unwilling innkeeper who refused to make room in a crowded building. Instead, it happened this way because people who knew Joseph or his family were not willing to make room in their own homes. The humbleness of the nativity occurred through a lack of hospitality, through a desire to turn away from the deeply-rooted cultural expectations of what it meant to care for a traveler. In this light, I have always wondered what caused those families in Bethlehem to turn away this young couple in need.