December 24, 2024 – Christmas Eve
Kahu Gary Percesepe
Wally was big for his age–seven years old. Everyone wondered what role the teacher would give him in the annual Christmas play. Especially considering that Wally was a slow learner. Maybe he could pull the curtain? Something simple, almost invisible. To everyone’s surprise Wally was assigned the role of the innkeeper. All he had to learn was one line: “There is no room in the inn.” Wally had that down in no time.
On the night of the program, all the parents took their places. Every seat was filled. The children entered singing “Oh come all ye faithful.” The lights dimmed. A hush fell over the audience. The curtain opened on Scene One. Mary and Joseph entered the stage and walked up to the inn. “Please sir, my wife is not well. Could we have a room for the night?” Wally was ready. He’d rehearsed his line all night. He began, “There is”– and hesitated. He started over. “There is”–and again his mind went completely blank. Everyone was embarrassed for him. Poor Wally just didn’t know what to do. Joseph thought he would improvise and started walking away toward the stable on stage left. Seeing him walking away, Wally in desperation called out: “Look, there’s plenty of room at my house, just come on home with me.”
The Christmas story is familiar to us. All the characters are clearly defined. Herod was a villain. The wise men were rich heroes. The shepherds were poor heroes and the Innkeeper–well, the poor innkeeper has gone down as one of the heavies in the story. We imagine him as a crotchety old man with a night cap on his head sticking his head out a second story window and shouting: “Take the stable and leave me alone.”
Preachers over the centuries have had a field day with this poor guy. But was it his fault that the inn was built with twelve rooms instead of thirteen? Was it his fault that the emperor had issued a decree that the entire world should be taxed? Was it his fault that Mary and Joseph were so late in arriving?
But in Luke’s skillful hands, this simple little statement about there being no room in the Inn becomes a symbol for the entire gospel that bears his name. Luke shows us how “There is no room in the inn,” becomes a motif that recurs throughout Jesus’ ministry. The question that Luke poses to us is– will there ever be any room for him?
“Unto you is born this day a Savior.”
Which prompts the question: Do we really need a Savior? Can’t we handle things ourselves? Do we really need salvation?
It’s embarrassing for self-reliant, can-do modern Americans to admit that life has become unmanageable; it may even seem offensive, especially for affluent, white Americans. It’s difficult to admit we cannot save ourselves. A little help, maybe, just enough to touch us up a little around the edges, enough to improve on what we’ve already accomplished, but mostly we want to do it ourselves so that we can congratulate ourselves for being successful people — nice, quiet, discreet congratulations, of course, but congratulations, nonetheless.
The angel proclaims, “Unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” The “you” in this sentence doesn’t mean those people way back when. It is you — and me — here and now.
Needing a Savior means being able to say — “I need help,” without shame. Not needing a Savior is saying, “I got this. Can do. Got everything under control.
The gospel says, “Actually you don’t, you don’t have it under control. Control is a human illusion. You need help.” And — even better — help is available. This is grace. The one who takes upon himself the burden of our sin and our failures, our longing and our desperation, has come. Emmanuel. God is with us. We are not alone in this veil of tears.
“Unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” Unto you who sit in darkness — the darkness of broken relationships, of addiction, of loneliness, of failures you shudder to name, of griefs too deep to bear, of pretenses that sicken you — unto you is born, this day, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. God is for you, not against you.
Jesus the Christ takes those burdens, failures, and fears that weigh you down. You are, by the grace of God, freed, forgiven, liberated and raised to new life. You are beloved. Made new, by grace, as the newborn baby. Made fresh as the new rain flowing down the slopes of Haleakalā. Made clear as the new dawn over Mākena. Rejoice, for unto you is born a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.
Unto you. Amene.