Archive: No Room to Spare

by Joseph Bayly, Vice President, David C. Cook Publishing Company Elgin, Illinois

Second thoughts about the infamous innkeeper …

Was the Bethlehem innkeeper heartless or very sensitive? Countless sermons have been based on the former viewpoint. “And she gave birth to her first-born son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn ” (Luke 2:7).

Last Christmas season I was at Williamsburg, Virginia. Like most visitors, I went through an old inn, rebuilt at the site. When we reached the second floor, the sleeping quarters, we found connecting dormitory rooms. The guide explained that seldom did a woman—especially a lady—stay in an inn in 18th century America. Her husband might stay there, but she would stay in a private home.

Then I read an article on the Bethlehem innkeeper in the Journal of Pastoral Care. L. Paul Trudinger suggested that we’ve been misjudging the innkeeper all along, and—for the same reason I had learned about in Williamsburg, but complicated by Mary’s pregnancy—he was actually an extremely sensitive man. Let me quote Dr. Trudinger.

“Without a doubt, in the preaching of the Church down through the centuries, these words ‘no room in the inn’ have been heavily loaded with pathos. The overriding mood which they convey has been one of sadness and sympathy for Mary on account of her rejection. The imagination of expositors and preachers has been fired and the scene has been painted of that heartless innkeeper who refused Mary entrance to the inn and relegated her to the animals’ stables. Luther, in a celebrated Christmas sermon, reacts with anger to the unfeeling conduct of the Bethlehemites. ‘Shame on you, wretched Bethlehem,’ he fulminated, ‘that inn should have been fired with brimstone; for while thieves and cut-throats lounged and caroused in the inn, Mary and Joseph were refused a place and were sent to the stable!’

“This mood of rejection has also given rise to a pious challenge to us today, that we should ‘make room’ for Jesus. ‘Have you any room for Jesus?’ asks the gospel song. And many have sung: ‘Come into my heart Lord Jesus/There is room in my heart for Thee.’

“But is the rejection of Joseph and Mary at a time of need the obvious and unquestionable meaning of this passage? Or have we allowed our evangelical piety to run away with our imaginations in quite an unwarranted way? The text says an unwarranted way? The text says nothing about Joseph and Mary coming to the door of the inn and asking for admission. It says that they ‘went up … to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, … and while they were there the time came for her to be delivered.’ They may well have been guests at this very inn for several days before the birth. Why then was there ‘no room in the inn’?

“It is so very easy to read our modern Western customs into the Bible story. This was no modern hotel or even 18th century English inn. This was a typical Eastern travelers’ resting place of the first century, A.O., or B.C. for that matter. And in parts of the East things haven’t changed much since. There would most probably be just one large room where everyone stayed. Here they all bedded down, dressed, and washed, if the luxury of water were available. At a busy time such as during a census, this room would be packed. This was no proper place for a baby’s delivery. Surely at such a time the mother should be allowed shelter from the common public gaze ….

“Luther may well have been right about the presence of thieves and cut-throats. The landlord, I suggest, was humane and sensitive enough to know that this was not the kind of company suitable to such a moment in Mary’s life. This is what the text very simply concludes: ‘… for it was not the place in the inn.’ The word used in the Greek text for ‘room’ is topos, a word which frequently means ‘the appropriate place.” The landlord, compassionate as he may well have been, and knowing the awkwardness of a delivery in a crowded inn, offered the only other accommodation which he had, namely, the animals’ stalls at the back of the inn. Here, at least, Mary and Joseph could have shelter and, above all, some privacy. Here Mary need not be stared at, nor need she hear the coarse remarks of the ‘thieves and cutthroats.’ Thus, ‘she gave birth to her first-born son . . . and laid him in a manger,’ thanks to the thoughtfulness and sensitivity of an innkeeper who felt that ‘it was not the proper place in the inn’ for Mary to have her baby. …

“This reconstruction naturally requires some romanticizing and use of the imagination, but surely no more than does the traditional understanding. In fact, it is probably more faithful to the plain meaning of what little detail Luke does give us. Are we allowing the contemporary human-interest, pastoral-psychology oriented mood to influence a first century text unduly? I think not. There are indications that just such a mood was not far from Luke’s heart.”