Have you ever missed the boat? Have you ever gotten so wrapped up in things that you have missed out on the main reason for doing what you do?
The rich industrialist from the North was horrified to find the southern fisherman lying lazily beside his boat, smoking a pipe.
"Why aren’t you out fishing?" said the industrialist.
"Because I have caught enough fish for the day," said the fisherman.
"Why don’t you catch some more?"
"What would I do with them?"
"You could earn more," was the industrialist’s reply. "With that you could have a motor fixed to your boat, and go into deeper waters and catch more fish. Then you would make enough to buy nylon nets. These would bring you more fish and more money. Soon you would have enough to own two boats . . . maybe even a fleet of boats. Then you would be a rich man like me."
"What would I do then?" asked the fisherman.
"Then you could really enjoy life."
"What do you think I am doing right now?"
You know, we live in a day and age in which that thinking is very prevalent. HURRY UP AND DO SOMETHING—MAKE MONEY, BECOME FAMOUS, BUT WHATEVER YOU DO, DO IT NOW!
On Friday, I had to go to the WalMart in Dickson City. Twice. Both times, it was extremely busy and hectic. It was mobbed. I just had to get some grocieries, and both time it took more than twice it normally would. And then there was the cashier’s line. I spent one hour in the store; 30 minutes getting grocieries, and 30 minutes waiting in line!
The point is simply this—we are running around like chickens with our heads cut off, but why? You would never know what this time of year is really all about.
Take the year 1809. The international scene was tumultuous. Napoleon was sweeping through Austria; blood was flowing freely. Nobody then cared about babies. But the world was overlooking some terribly significant births.
For example, William Gladstone was born that year. He was destined to become one of England’s finest statesmen. That same year, Alfred Tennyson was born to an obscure minister and his wife. The child would one day greatly affect the literacy world in a marked manner. On the American continent, Oliver Wendell Holmes was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts. And not far away in Boston, Edgar Allen Poe began his eventful, albeit tragic, life. It was also in that same year that a physician named Darwin and his wife named their child Charles Robert. And that same year produced the cries of a newborn infant in a rugged cabin in Hardin County, Kentucky. The baby’s name? Abraham Lincoln.
If there had been a news broadcast at that time, I’m certain these words would have been heard: “The destiny of the world is being shaped on an Austrian battlefield today.” But history was actually being shaped in the cradles of England and America. Similarly, everyone thought taxation was the big news—when Jesus was born. But a young Jewish woman cradled the biggest news of all: the birth of the Savior.
When Pope Julius I authorized December 25 to be celebrated as the birthday of Jesus in A.D. 353, who would have ever thought that it would become what it is today.
When Professor Charles Follen lit candles on the first Christmas tree in America in 1832, who would have ever thought that the decorations would become as elaborate as they are today.
It is a long time since 1832, longer still from 353, longer still from that dark night brightened by a special star in which Jesus the king was born. Yet, as we approach December 25 again, it gives us yet another opportunity to pause, and in the midst of all the excitement and elaborate decorations and expensive commercialization which surround Christmas today, to consider again the event of Christmas and the person whose birth we celebrate.
Today, we are going to look at a familiar passage of Scripture, to take a look at someone who missed the boat on the very first Christmas.
READ LUKE 2:1-7.
Let me just give you a little context before we meet the person who missed the boat.
Ceaser Augustus was the grandnephew of Julius Caesar, who adopted him as a son and officially declared him the heir to the throne of the Roman Empire. He did not immediately ascend to the throne when Julius was betrayed and murdered. Instead, he was involved in a power struggle with Mark Antony. Finally, he ruled the Empire from 27 BC until AD 14. Under his reign, there was unprecedented peace throughout the region, and the construction of the major roadway system was installed and put into place under his reign. We looked at this last week, that when the time had fully come, Christ was born. All roads led to Rome, and the roads allowed the message of the gospel to spread easily.
In those days, Caesar Augustus decreed that all the world (or the known Roman Empire) should be taxed. At this point, Mary and Joseph began the trip to Bethlehem—why? They had to go to Bethlehem because that was where they were registered. They didn’t have the luxury of being able to file at home, through the post office, or over the internet. They had to go home to pay the tax. Think of it like voter registration. If you look at your voter registration card, it has on there a place where you are to go to vote, and it is the only place that you can vote. Because of where I live, I go to vote at Heritage Baptist Church. But if I were to go to one of the voting places that you are registered at, I would not be able to vote, because I am not registered there. So, Joseph and Mary had to go to their place of registration to pay their tax.
So they arrived in Bethlehem, with the baby about ready to be born. Can you imagine the timing of this? Wanting to travel when you are that pregnant. My wife is almost 8 months pregnant—in fact, we are 6 weeks from the expected date today. I can’t even imagine trying to travel, even in a car, during her last month.
But imagine the setting. You have a town of Bethlehem that is now crowded with people. Everyone is rustling and bustling, trying to get their taxes paid. Visiting families. Running around. In fact, by the time that Mary and Joseph arrive, there is no room in the inn.
And this is where we meet the third person I want to speak about this Christmas. We first looked at Joseph several weeks ago, a man who gets lost in the shuffle. We looked at the first Grinch, Herod, who not only tried to steal Christmas, but kill it! Today, we will look briefly at the man who missed Christmas, the innkeeper.
Interestingly enough, the Bible doesn’t tell us anything about him at all. All we know is that there was no room in the inn. The actual word for inn can carry with it a public shelter or campground, much like we would think of a homeless shelter. Not only was their no room to stay in an actual inn, there was no room in the public shelters. Instead, they were regulated to the manger, to live among the camels, donkeys, horses, and their feeding troughs. They would have used their own robes and extra blankets to shield themselves from the cold wind.
But let’s get back to the innkeeper. Can we really fault him? I mean, it wasn’t his fault that there was no room—he was just a business man. He did allow them to stay in the manager. And he never knew the significance of the baby inside Mary, how he wasn’t just another baby, but the actual son of God.
He was so close to the truth, yet so far away.
I mean really, came you blame him? He was just trying to make a buck, trying to earn a living. Trying to keep things running at the inn, trying to keep everyone happy. Trying to keep an eye on all the needs that these guests would entail. Running into hundreds of people just like Joseph and Mary trying to get a room. And I’m sure, it was “Out of sight—out of mind” with Joseph and Mary. Can we really blame him for missing out on the first Christmas, on the real reason for the season?
The question is this—what is our excuse?
We live in a day and age in which we are all running around like chickens with our heads cut off, trying to get that last minute gift, waiting in line at 5 in the morning to make sure that we get that gift that little Johnny wants, buying lots of Christmas cards so that we can stand in line at the post office to make sure they get out in time, opening up new charge cards so that we can buy now and pay later, all to get together for one day with family and friends and open presents and watch as people are unsatisfied with their gifts. We settle in and eat dinner with family that we do not like. Children who are grateful for what they received have to spend time with children who never get what they want or enough to satisfy them. We admire the Christmas lights and decorations, we decorate our own homes to compete with the neighbors. We get together to watch college football games, pass the eggnog, and stuff our faces until we can no longer eat, and then we eat some more.
And somewhere, 2000 years ago, a baby was born who changed the world. He brought salvation to a world that was dying in their sins. He was the perfect embodiment of love, both fully God and man, and he came that one night, born in a manger, because there was no room for him in the inn.
Today, his story has not changed. There is room in the local hotels, but there is no room for him in our homes. We can make room for him in the church, but in our hearts, we’ve filled it with all sorts of stuff.
Today, I want to remind you of the innkeeper. He missed Christmas in the hustle and bustle of what was going on in those days. In our days, don’t let the hustle and bustle of Christmas keep you from Christ.
To those of us 2000 years removed from that first Christmas, Jesus says this—“ 20Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.”
This Christmas, don’t shut the door on Christ. Don’t miss the boat. Don’t miss the reason for the season. Don’t be the innkeeper who had no room for the
