Exegetical and Hermeneutical Commentary of Luke 2:7
And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.
7. firstborn ] The word has no bearing on the controversy as to the ‘brethren of Jesus,’ as it does not necessarily imply that the Virgin had other children. See Heb 1:6, where first-born=only-begotten.
wrapped him in swaddling clothes ] Eze 16:4. In her poverty she had none to help her, but (in the common fashion of the East) wound the babe round and round with swathes with her own hands.
in a manger ] If the Received Text were correct it would be ‘in the manger,’ but the article is omitted by A, B, D, L. Phatn is sometimes rendered ‘stall’ (as in Luk 13:15; 2Ch 32:28, LXX.); but ‘manger’ is probably right here. It is derived from pateomai, ‘I eat’ (Curtius, Griech. Et. ii. 84), and is used by the LXX. for the Hebrew. ‘crib,’ in Pro 14:4. Mangers are very ancient, and are to this day sometimes used as cradles in the East (Thomson, Land and Book, ii. 533). The ox and the ass which are traditionally represented in pictures are only mentioned in the apocryphal Gospel of Matthew , 14, and were suggested by Isa 1:3, and Hab 3:2, which in the LXX. and the ancient Latin Version (Vetus Itala) was mistranslated “Between two animals thou shalt be made known.”
there was no room for them in the inn ] Kataluma may also mean guest-chamber as in Luk 22:11, but inn seems to be here the right rendering. There is another word for inn, pandocheion (Luk 10:34), which implies an inn with a host. Bethlehem was a poor place, and its inn was probably a mere khan or caravanserai, which is an enclosed space surrounded by open recesses of which the paved floor ( leewan) is raised a little above the ground. There is often no host, and the use of any vacant leewan is free, but the traveller pays a trifle for food, water, &c. If the khan be crowded the traveller must be content with a corner of the courtyard or enclosed place among the cattle, or else in the stable. The stable is often a limestone cave or grotto, and there is a very ancient tradition that this was the case in the khan of Bethlehem. (Just. Martyr, Dial. c. Tryph. c. 78, and the Apocryphal Gospels, Protev. xix., Evang. Infant. iii. &c.) If, as is most probable, the traditional site of the Nativity is the real one, it took place in one of the caves where St Jerome spent so many years (Ep. 24, ad Marcell.) as a hermit, and translated the Bible into Latin (the Vulgate). The khan perhaps dated back as far as the days of David under the name of the House or Hotel ( Grooth) of Chimham (2Sa 19:37-38; Jer 41:17).
The tender grace and perfect simplicity of the narrative is one of the marks of its truthfulness, and is again in striking contrast with the endlessly multiplied miracles of the Apocryphal Gospels. “The unfathomable depths of the divine counsels were moved; the fountains of the great deep were broken up; the healing of the nations was issuing forth; but nothing was seen on the surface of human society but this slight rippling of the water.” Isaac Williams, The Nativity.
Fuente: The Cambridge Bible for Schools and Colleges
Her first-born son – Whether Mary had any other children or not has been a matter of controversy. The obvious meaning of the Bible is that she had; and if this be the case, the word firstborn is here to be taken in its common signification.
Swaddling clothes – When a child among the Hebrews was born, it was washed in water, rubbed in salt, and then wrapped in swaddling clothes; that is, not garments regularly made, as with us, but bands or blankets that confined the limbs closely, Eze 16:4. There was nothing special in the manner in which the infant Jesus was treated.
Laid him in a manger – The word rendered inn in this verse means simply a place of halting, a lodging-place; in modern terms, a khan or caravanserai (Robinsons Biblical Research in Palestine, iii. 431). The word rendered manger means simply a crib or place where cattle were fed. Inns, in our sense of the term, were anciently unknown in the East, and now they are not common. Hospitality was generally practiced, so that a traveler had little difficulty in obtaining shelter and food when necessary. As traveling became more frequent, however, khans or caravanserais were erected for public use – large structures where the traveler might freely repair and find lodging for himself and his beast, he himself providing food and forage. Many such khans were placed at regular intervals in Persia. To such a place it was, though already crowded, that Joseph and Mary resorted at Bethlehem. Instead of finding a place in the inn, or the part of the caravanserai where the travelers themselves found a place of repose, they were obliged to be contented in one of the stalls or recesses appropriated to the beasts on which they rode.
The following description of an Eastern inn or caravanserai, by Dr. Kitto, will well illustrate this passage: It presents an external appearance which suggests to a European traveler the idea of a fortress, being an extensive square pile of strong and lofty walls, mostly of brick upon a basement of stone, with a grand archway entrance. This leads …to a large open area, with a well in the middle, and surrounded on three or four sides with a kind of piazza raised upon a platform 3 or 4 feet high, in the wall behind which are small doors leading to the cells or oblong chambers which form the lodgings. The cell, with the space on the platform in front of it, forms the domain of each individual traveler, where he is completely secluded, as the apparent piazza is not open, but is composed of the front arches of each compartment. There is, however, in the center of one or more of the sides a large arched hall quite open in front … The cells are completely unfurnished, and have generally no light but from the door, and the traveler is generally seen in the recess in front of his apartment except during the heat of the day … Many of these caravanserais have no stables, the cattle of the travelers being accommodated in the open area; but in the more complete establishments …there are …spacious stables, formed of covered avenues extending between the back wall of the lodging apartments and the outer wall of the whole building, the entrance being at one or more of the corners of the inner quadrangle.
The stable is on the same level with the court, and thus below the level of the tenements which stand on the raised platform. Nevertheless, this platform is allowed to project behind into the stable, so as to form a bench … It also often happens that not only this bench exists in the stable, forming a more or less narrow platform along its extent, but also recesses corresponding to these in front of the cells toward the open area, and formed, in fact, by the side-walls of these cells being allowed to project behind to the boundary of the platform. These, though small and shallow, form convenient retreats for servants and muleteers in bad weather … Such a recess we conceive that Joseph and Mary occupied, with their ass or mule – if they had one, as they perhaps had tethered – in front … It might be rendered quite private by a cloth being stretched across the lower part.
It may be remarked that the fact that Joseph and Mary were in that place, and under a necessity of taking up their lodgings there, was in itself no proof of poverty; it was a simple matter of necessity there was no room at the inn. Yet it is worthy of our consideration that Jesus was born poor. He did not inherit a princely estate. He was not cradled, as many are, in a palace. He had no rich friends. He had virtuous, pious parents, of more value to a child than many riches. And in this we are shown that it is no dishonor to be poor. Happy is that child who, whether his parents be rich or poor, has a pious father and mother. It is no matter if he has not as much wealth, as fine clothes, or as splendid a house as another. It is enough for him to be as Jesus was, and God will bless him.
No room at the inn – Many people assembled to be enrolled, and the tavern was filled before Joseph and Mary arrived.
Fuente: Albert Barnes’ Notes on the Bible
Luk 2:7
Her first-born Son
Birth of Christ the Lord
I.
CHRISTS RELATION TO THE POOR.
1. When He came in so lowly circumstances, consenting to lay His head in a manger, none of the pomps of royalty about Him, how touchingly and tenderly He spoke to the vast majority of the world. There is a bond of sympathy between Him and the multitude whose condition is one of struggles, deprivations, and anxieties. Here is a warrant of His love; here is something to secure their confidence, draw out their hearts, lead them to admiration.
2. How plain, in the light of this event, is the folly of estimating men by their birth or surroundings. What a rebuke on the worldliness of earth, on our unseemly regard for temporal surroundings. If Christ, the King of kings, the Saviour of the world, the Son of the Highest, could take so lowly a station, we are weak indeed, if we judge men hereafter by the canopy on their cradles or the jewels on their swaddling-bands.
II. THE IMPORTANCE OF INFANCY. Why was Christ a babe? To link Himself at every stage with humanity; to indicate the sweetness and preciousness of infant life. In that quaint, fragile casket–a babe–is the jewel of an immortal soul. There lie the germs of immense possibilities. The soul is as yet in embryo, but it is there. He turns against his better nature, against the teachings of Christs life, who has no interest in the new-born babe.
III. THE SUPERIOR IMPORTANCE OF THE SPIRITUAL TO THE MATERIAL. HOW little do we know of the material circumstances of Christs life! Even this great event, His birth, is shrouded in comparative darkness. God would show us the comparative insignificance of temporal things. Christ came to teach spiritual truth.
IV. Christs coming was THE PIVOTAL EVENT OF THE WORLDS HISTORY.
From Bethlehem shall go forth an influence that shall move the world. That Divine Babe is the salvation of a ruined earth! (A. P. Foster.)
The miraculous conception not unreasonable
Let me dispute the case with a mere natural man, How doth the harvest of the field enrich the husbandman? It is answered, By the seed which is sown in the ground. Say again, How came seed into the world to sow the ground? Surely you must confess that the first seed had a Maker, who did not derive it from the ears of wheat, but made it of nothing by the power of His own hand; says St. Austin, then God could make a man without the seed of man in the Virgins womb, who made seed for the corn before ever there was earing or harvest. Nay, there is an instance for it in the little bees, as the poet doth philosophize, they do not bring forth their young ones, as other creatures do, by the help of male and female together; but they gather the seed which begets the young ones from the dew of leaves, and herbs, and flowers, and so they bring them forth. (Bishop Hacket.)
Christ born without the curse of the flesh
The Virgin conceived our Lord without the lusts of the flesh, and therefore she had not the pangs and travail of women upon her, she brought Him forth without the curse of the flesh. These be the Fathers comparisons: as bees draw honey from the flower without offending it, as Eve was taken out of Adams side without any grief to him, as a spring issues out of the bark of the tree, as the sparkling light from the brightness of the star, such ease was it to Mary to bring forth her first-born Son; and therefore having no weakness in her body, feeling no want of vigour, she did not deliver Him to any profane hand to be dressed, but by a special ability, above all that are newly delivered, she wrapt Him in swaddling clouts. (Bishop Hacket.)
Christ wrapped in swaddling clothes
Now these clouts here mentioned which were not worth the taking up, but that we find them in this text, are more to be esteemed than the robes of Solomon in all his royalty; yea, more valuable than the beauty of the lily, or any flower of the field or garden, which did surpass all the royalty of Solomon. I may say they are the pride of poverty, for I know not in what thing poverty may better boast and glory than in the rags of Christ. (Bishop Hacket.)
1. The strange condition of the mother, that she brought forth a Son, who by nature was no bearer, for she was a virgin.
2. The strange condition of the Babe, the first-begotten Son of God was the first-born Son of flesh and blood.
3. The strange condition of the place, that she laid Him in a manger.
4. The strange condition of men, that there was no room in the inn for Jesus and Mary. (Bishop Hacket.)
The Christ-child
Mother and child! What more beautiful sight, and what more wonderful sight is there in the world? What more beautiful? That man must be very far from the Kingdom of God–he is not worthy to be called a man at all–whose heart has not been touched by the sight of his first child in itsmothers bosom. The greatest painters who have ever lived have tried to paint the beauty of that simple thing–a mother with her babe: and have failed. One of them, Rafaelle by name, to whom God gave the spirit of beauty in a measure in which He never gave it, perhaps, to any other man, tried again and again, for years, painting over and over that simple subject–the mother and her babe–and could not satisfy himself. Each of his pictures is most beautiful–each in a different way; and yet none of them is perfect. There is more beauty in that simple everyday sight than he or any man could express by his pencil and his colours. And as for the wonder of that sight I tell you this: That physicians, and the wise men who look into the laws of nature, of flesh and blood, say that the mystery is past their finding out; that if they could find out the whole meaning, and the true meaning of those two words, mother and child, they could get the key to the deepest wonders of the world–but they cannot. And philosophers who look into the laws of soul and spirit say the same. The wiser men they are, the more they find in the soul of every new-born babe, and its kindred to its mother, wonders and puzzles past mans understanding. This then we are to think of–God revealed, and shown to men, as a babe upon His mothers bosom. It was only in the Babe of Bethlehem that the whole of Gods character shone forth, that men might not merely find Him and bow before Him, but trust in Him and love Him, as one who could be touched with the feeling of their infirmities. A God in need! a God weak! a God fed by mortal woman! a God wrapt in swaddling clothes, and laid in a manger! If that sight will not touch our hearts, what will? God has been through the pains of infancy, that He might take on Him not merely the nature of a man, but all human nature, from the nature of the babe on its mothers bosom, to the nature of the full-grown and full-souled man, fighting with all his powers against the evil of the world. All this is His, and He is all; that no human being, from the strongest to the weakest, from the oldest to the youngest, but may be able to say, What I am, Christ has been! (C. Kingsley.)
The Advent exalts human relations
Why was it that the Eternal Son, when He abandoned that glory which He had with the Father before the world was, and determined to be the Man Christ Jesus, was pleased to make His apparition on the scene of the world even as others do; to be the infant and the child before He was the man; to be subject to the filial obligation in the fulness of its legitimate extent; and to be all this in a situation in which such ties were stripped of all that could recommend them, apart from their own intrinsic value–a situation in which wealth could not adorn, nor authority dignify them? Assuredly one prominent reason was that, separating, by means so much more intelligible than argumentative statements, what was essentially excellent in human nature from its depravations and corruptions, He might bestow a special dignity upon those primary connections of human life upon which the rest so mainly depend, and in which the tenderer and better affections of the heart find, and were meant by our Creator to find, their peculiar sphere of exercise. Nothing can more truly show that nature and revelation came from the same hand, than the assumption into revelation of all that is innocent in nature. When God, as Creator of the world, bound together all the variety of human connections by all the variety of corresponding affections, He wrought a work destined for everlasting. Dispensations may change, but these things are not meant to change. And thus it is that, when from the perusal of the New Testament a man descends into the charities of social life, things do not seem changed in their position, but wonderfully beautified in their complexion; a Diviner glow rests upon them and a holier sanctity. There is a change, but it is a change that adorns without disturbing. It is as if a man who had lived in a twilight world, where all was dimly revealed and coldly coloured, were suddenly to be surprised with the splendour of a summer noon. Objects would still remain, and relations be still unbroken; but new and lovely lights and shadowings would cover them: they would move in the same direction as before, but under an atmosphere impregnated with brighter hues, and rich with a light that streamed direct from heaven.
I. Then, by what means could this high result have been attained with such force, directness, and certainty, as has been effected in the adoption by our God of those very connections? So far, you can perceive a strong reason for the manner of Christs incarnation–for His advent among us in the simplicity of our ordinary manhood. You can perceive that it conferred an inexpressible dignity upon the relation, above all others, of the mother and the child.
II. I would add that of His design to exalt this as well as the other natural relations, to make them high and sacred elements in the religion He was about to establish, a most lovely proof is insinuated in the constant employment of all these connections and feelings to symbolize the eternal realities of the spiritual world.
III. The passage before us speaks not merely of the first-born, but of her who bore Him, and whose mysterious agonies were unsupported by the aids of wealth and the appliances of luxury; who was rejected when she would have given to the Immortal Infant the common comforts of that trying hour; and who had to place among the beasts of the field, less insensate than man, the life of the world thus cast forth to die. How wondrous, how unfelt before or since, the communion of that mother and that Son! With the full remembrance of His supernatural descent, to sit at the same daily table for all those long and untold years that preceded the public ministry of the great prophet; to recognize in Him at once the babe of her bosom and the God of her immortality; to catch, ever and anon, those mystic echoes of eternity which the deeper tones of His converse would reveal, and to behold, plainer and plainer, as He grew, the lineaments of the God impressed upon the wondrous inmate of her humble home; surely these were experiences to dignify that mother in our thoughts; yea, to give a glory and a hallowing to maternity itself for ever.
IV. One point, above all others, added a peculiar interest to that wondrous connection. The virgin and her Son stood alone in the world! alone in the long line of the human race! He, with whom she was so awfully, yet endearingly connected, could acknowledge no earthly father, no author of His humanity, but that overshadowing Spirit by whose mysterious operation He had been invested with our nature. In that awful hour of Bethlehem there must have mingled with the sorrows of the outcast Virgin the trembling joys of one who knew herself the supernatural channel of the Hope of the human race. And though she might own to the feebleness of the woman in that hour of trial, and deplore amid the unworthy accompaniments of such a scene that low estate of the handmaid of the Lord which had reduced her to them, yet as she gazed upon that Eternal Child in whom was bound up the regeneration of Israel, of the world, her soul could magnify the Lord and her spirit rejoice in God her Saviour. (W. Archer Butler.)
The Saviour and the manger
For ourselves Christmas Day is one of universal joy; for Jesus Christs sake, who as on this day was born, there is a loving sadness. His birth overshadowed His life. His very coming into the world was a heavy prophecy of sorrow.
I. BORN A HELPLESS UNKNOWING BABE. Unable to do anything; He was mocked in the hour of His Passion; as being weak and foolish; as one unable to reply to Herod and to Pilate (Isa 53:17). The burden of our nature was laid upon Him all through His earthly life, which was one long course of sacrifice for others. The weak and suffering are often the workers of the world.
II. BORN WITHOUT A DWELLING. No room for Him in the inn; whilst living, no home for Him in Jerusalem or elsewhere (Mat 8:20). In death He had no tomb or sepulchre of His own. Quite possible to do a mighty work for the world, and yet have no lot or portion in it.
III. BORN IN DARKNESS. Just after midnight; died in darkness over the whole land, just after midday. The Light of the world came into it at dark, to make it bright with His presence, which presence being taken away, left it dark again. Type of a soul once enlightened, fallen away into the darkness of sin (Mat 6:23).
IV. BORN ON A HARD COUCH. Born in a stable, laid in a manger, He died extended and reposing upon the bitter couch of the cross. A birth, life, and death in hardship. This world a school of discipline to holy souls.
V. BORN BETWEEN TWO ANIMALS. The ox and the ass were with Him at His birth. He was compelled to breathe out His soul between two thieves, and during His life He received sinners. Conclusion: Every life repeats itself. Marvellous concord between Jesus Christ the Child and Jesus Christ the Man, the manger and the cross, the beginning and the end. (M. Faber.)
There was no room for them in the inn
No room for Christ in the inn
I. There were OTHER REASONS WHY CHRIST SHOULD BE LAID IN THE MANGER.
1. It was intended thus to show forth His humiliation. Would it not have been inappropriate that the Redeemer who was to be buried in a borrowed tomb should be born anywhere but in the humblest shed, and housed anywhere but in the most ignoble manner? The manger and the cross, standing at the two extremities of the Saviours earthly life, seem most fit and congruous the one to the other.
2. By being in a manger He was declared to be the king of the poor. In the eyes of the poor, imperial robes excite no affection, but a man in their own garb attracts their confidence. Great commanders have readily won the hearts of their soldiers by snaring their hardships and roughing it as if they belonged to the ranks.
3. Further, in being thus laid in a manger, He did, as it were, give an invitation to the most humble to come to Him. We might tremble to approach a throne, but we cannot fear to approach a manger.
4. Methinks there was yet another mystery. This place was free to all. Christ was born in the stable of the inn to show how free He is to all comers. Class distinctions are unknown here, and the prerogatives of caste are not acknowledged, No forms of etiquette are required in entering a stable; it cannot be an offence to enter the stable of a public caravanserai. So, if you desire to come to Christ, you may come to Him just as you are; you may come now.
5. It was at the manger that the beasts were fed; and does the Saviour lie where weary beasts receive their provender, and shall there not be a mystery here? Alas, there are some men who have become so brutal through sin, so utterly depraved by their lusts, that to their own consciences everything manlike has departed; but even to such the remedies of Jesus, the Great Physician, will apply. Even beastlike men may come to Christ, and live.
6. But as Christ was laid where beasts were fed, you will recollect that after He was gone beasts fed there again. It was only His presence which could glorify the manger, and here we learn that if Christ were taken away the world would go back to its former heathen darkness. Christianity itself would die out, at least that part of it which really civilizes man, if the religion of Jesus could be extinguished.
II. THERE WERE OTHER PLACES BESIDES THE INN WHICH HAD NO ROOM FOR JESUS.
1. The palaces of emperors and the halls of kings afforded the Royal Stranger no refuge.
2. But there were senators, there were forums of political discussion, there were the places where the representatives of the people make the laws, was there no room for Christ there? Alas I none.
3. How little room there is for Him in what is called good society. There is room there for all the silly little forms by which men choose to trammel themselves; room for frivolous conversation; room for the adoration of the body; there is room for the setting up of this and that as the idol of the hour, but there is too little room for Christ, and it is far from fashionable to follow the Lord fully.
4. How little room for Him on the exchange.
5. How little room for Him in the schools of the philosophers.
6. How little room has He found even in the Church. Go where ye will, there is no space for the Prince of Peace but with the humble and contrite spirits which by grace He prepares to yield Him shelter.
III. THE INN ITSELF HAD NO ROOM FOR HIM. This was the main reason why He must be laid in a manger.
1. The inn represents public opinion. In this free land, men speak of what they like, and there is a public opinion upon every subject; and you know there is free toleration in this country to everything-permit me to say, toleration to everything but Christ.
2. The inn also represents general conversation. Speech is very free in this land, but ah! how little room is there for Christ in general talk.
3. As for the inns of modern times–who would think of finding Christ there?
IV. HAVE YOU ROOM FOR CHRIST?
V. If you have room for Christ, then THE WORLD HAS NO ROOM FOR YOU. It had no room for Joseph or Mary, any more than for the Babe. Who are His father, and mother, and sister, and brother, but those who receive His word and keep it? So, as there was no room for the Blessed Virgin, nor for the reputed father, remember there is no room in this world for any true follower of Christ.
1. No room for you to take your ease.
2. No room for you to sit down contented with your own attainments.
3. No room for you to hide your treasure in.
4. No room for you to put your confidence.
5. Hardly room of sufferance. You must expect to be laughed at, and to wear the fools cap in mens esteem. Will you enlist on such terms? Will you give room for Christ, when there is henceforth no room for you? (C. H.Spurgeon.)
Christ outside of the inn
1. This was partly the result of ignorance. Had they known He was the Messiah, doubtless they would have acted otherwise.
2. But partly also the result of selfishness. Had there been more of a generous humanity in their hearts, some fitter place would have been found for Mary and her child.
I. We may take this inn as AN EMBLEM OF THE UNGODLY WORLD. What is the essential distinction between an inn and a home? In the one, as in the other, a number of individuals dwell together, but home involves the idea of vital unity–common life, feeling, experience. In an inn no mutual fellowship; each thinks only of his own interests. When Christ was born, the Roman Empire was just one huge inn, with no real cohesion, no vital unity, amongst the various provinces. Into this world of aggregated interests Christ came; and there was no room for Him. Even the Jewish nation, to whom more especially He came, was split up into sects and parties, each pursuing its own objects, although living under the same roof of a common history and a common religion; and so, when He came unto His own, they received Him not. Is it not the same in the world now?
II. AN EMBLEM OF MANY AN UNCHRISTIAN HOUSEHOLD. Many a household does not at all realize the idea of a home. Its members cat and sleep under the same roof; but this is more like an arrangement of temporary necessity than of loving choice. They need Christ as a bond of union; but they do not feel their need of Him, and so for Him they have no room.
III. AN EMBLEM OF THE WORLDLY HEART. It might be thought the very spirit of selfishness would impart unity to the worldlings nature. But no, for while his desires are imperious, they are often mutually conflicting. He needs a governing principle–Christ dwelling in the heart. (T. C.Finlayson.)
Room in the soul for Christ
As the palace, and the forum, and the inn, have no room for Christ, and as the places of public resort have none, have you room for Christ? Well, says one, I have room for Him, but I am not worthy that He should come to me. Ah! I did not ask about worthiness; have you room for Him? Oh, says one, I have an empty void the world can never fill! Ah! I see you have room for Him. Oh! but the room I have in my heart is so base! So was the manger. But it is so despicable! So was the manger a thing to be despised. Ah! but my heart is so foul! So, perhaps, the manger may have been. Oh I but I feel it is a place not at all fit for Christ! Nor was the manger a place fit for Him, and yet there was He laid. Oh! but I have been such a sinner; I feel as if my heart had been a den of beasts and devils! Well, the manger had been a place where beasts had fed. Have you room for Him? Never mind what the past has been; He can forget and forgive. It mattereth not what even the present state may be if thou mournest it. If thou hast but room for Christ He will come and be thy guest. Do not say, I pray you, I hope I shall have room for Him; the time is come that He shall be born; Mary cannot wait months and years. Oh! sinner, if thou hast room for Him let Him be born in thy soul to-day: To-day if ye will hear His voice harden not your hearts as in the provocation. To-day is the accepted time; to-day is the day of salvation. Room for Jesus! Room for Jesus now! Oh! saith one, I have room for Him, but will He come? Will He come indeed! Do you but set the door of your heart open, do but say, Jesus, Master, all unworthy and unclean I look to thee; come, lodge within my heart, and He will come to thee, and He will cleanse the manger of thy heart, nay, will transform it into a golden throne, and there He will sit and reign for ever and for ever. My Master wants room! Room for Him! Room for Him! I, His herald, cry aloud, Room for the Saviour! Room! Here is my royal Master–have you room for Him? Here is the Son of God made flesh–have you room for Him? Here is He who can forgive all sin–have you room for Him? There is He who can take you up out of the horrible pit and out of the miry clay–have you room for Him? Here is He who, when He cometh in, will never go out again, but abide with you for ever to make your heart a heaven of joy and bliss for you–have you room for Him? Tis all I ask. Your emptiness, your nothingness, your want of feeling, your want of goodness, your want of grace–all these will be but room for Him Have you room for Him? Oh! Spirit of God, lead many to say, Yes, my heart is ready. Ah! then He will come and dwell with you. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Christ waiting for room
Were a man to enter some great cathedral of the old continent, survey the vaulted arches and the golden tracery above, wander among the forests of pillars on which they rest, listen to the music of choirs, and catch the softened light that streams through sainted forms and histories on the windows, observe the company of priests, gorgeously arrayed, chanting, kneeling, crossing themselves, and wheeling in long processions before the great altar loaded with gold and gems; were he to look into the long tiers of side chapels, each a gorgeous temple, with an altar of its own for its princely family, adorned with costliest mosaics, and surrounded, in the niches of the walls, with statues and monumental groups of dead ancestors m the highest forms of art, noting also the living princes at their worship there among their patriarchs and brothers in stone–spectator of a scene so imposing, what but this will his thought be: Surely the Infant of the manger has at last found room, and come to be entertained among men with a magnificence worthy of His dignity But if he looks again, and looks a little farther in–far enough in to see the miserable pride of self and power that lurks under this gorgeous show, the mean ideas of Christ, the superstitions held instead of Him, the bigotry, the hatred of the poor, the dismal corruption of life–with how deep a sigh of disappointment will he confess: Alas, the manger was better and a more royal honour! (Horace Bushnell, DD.)
Room in the heart for Christ
Christ was straitened for room in the inn, and thrust into the stable, that you might open your heart wide, and enlarge it, to give him a habitation to content Him. First, beloved, periculosum est inter delicius poni; tis full of peril to rest among pleasures and delights; it is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasting Ecc 7:2). Adam had his habitation among the sweet savours and most delightful recreations of the garden of Eden; his senses were so filled with objects of pleasures, that he forgot the Lord: therefore Jesus Christ, the second Adam, who came to restore all that was lost, pitched upon the worst corner of the house, where there were no delights at all to move temptation. Kings houses, and well furnished mansions have their occasions of lewdness, but she laid her Son in a manger. Learn from hence to condescend unto the humility of Christ if you mean to ascend unto His glory; for as the custom of those regions was, this manger was a vault cut out of a rock, as low a place as He could cast Himself into; but no man projects so wisely to raise up, mighty building as he that lays a low foundation. It is reported of Sextus Quintus, how he was so far from shame that he was born in a poor cottage, that he would sport with his own fortune, and say he was born in a bright resplendent family, because the sun looked in at every cranny of the house; it is not the meanness of the place that can justly turn to any mans scorn, nor doth a magnificent palace build up any mans reputation. Holofernes had a costly tent to cover him, and yet was never the honester; and it was a pretty objection of Plutarchs against the vain consumption of cost upon the decking of our houses. What do we mean, says he, to be at such cost to deck our chambers? Why will we pay so dear for our sleep, when God, if you please, hath given you that for nothing? the slenderest place served our Saviour to cover His head, she laid Him in a manger. (Bishop Hacket.)
Christ seeks entrance into the heart
Why, since Christianity undertakes to convert the world, does it seem to almost or quite fail in the slow progress it makes? Because, I answer, Christ gets no room, as yet, to work, and be the fire in mens hearts He is able to be. We undertake for Him as by statecraft and churchcraft and priestcraft. We raise monasteries for Him in one age, military crusades in another. Raymond Lull, representing a large class of teachers, under took to make the gospel so logical that he could bring down all men of all nations, without a peradventure, before it. Some in our day are going to carry everything by steam-ships and commerce; some by science and the schooling of heathen children; some by preaching agents adequately backed by missionary boards; some by tracts and books. But the work, however fitly ordered as respects the machinery, lingers, and will and must linger, till Christ gets room to be a more complete inspiration in His followers. They gave Him the stable when they ought to be giving Him the inn, put Him in the lot of weakness, keep Him back from His victories, shut Him down under the world, making His gospel, thus, such a secondary, doubtfully real affair, that it has to be always debating in the evidences; instead of being its own evidence, and marching forward in its own mighty power And yet Christ has a patience large enough to bear us still; for He carne to bear even our sin, and He will not start from His burden, even if He should not be soon through with it. All the sooner ought we to come to the heart so long and patiently grieving for us. Be it ours to make room for Him, and to stretch ourselves to the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ. (Horace Bushnell, D. D.)
Shutting out Jesus
Unless the Holy Spirit has been really given, these are the words which we may see written up here, and there, and everywhere–even in this professedly Christian land–No room for Jesus here! You can scarcely find an inn literally–a hotel, a public-house, or a beer-shop–where these words are not too plainly written up No room for Jesus here. They are written, too, over the doors of how many so-called places of amusement–theatres, ball-rooms, and such like: No room for Jesus here! But not only so; over how many places of business are there these same words! In how many private houses–drawing-rooms, dining-rooms, parlours, and kitchens–may we look up and see the same sad words–No room for Jesus here! And written on all these why? Who dares, you say, to write such words? They write them–every one writes them, wherever he goes, who has an unchanged heart; for upon every heart that is not changed–whether it beats in the bosom of a prince or a peasant, of a professing Christian or a professing heathen–the same sad, solemn words are written deep–No room for Jesus here! (Henry Wright, M. A.)
Christ found in lowly places
And very like this world was that inn. Room and smiling welcome for the rich and the reveller: no room for the heavy-laden and the poor. And very like–because that which we see without in others we can find within ourselves, if we look–is our own heart unto that inn. Room, ample room, for pride and display, luxury and indolence: no room for humility and meekness, self-denial and holy work. Yet, as surely as Christ was born, nigh upon 2,000 years ago, in a manger, so is He born now in lowly homes and hearts. Does not your own experience correspond with this? Have you not found Christ in poverty rather than in plenteousness, in suffering rather than in merriment, in solitude rather than in multitudes, in the stable rather than the inn? When have you prayed most vehemently? When have you seemed to know most clearly that you had a soul which could never die, though the body might be buried in a week? it has been, when you have been sent away from the din and excitement of the world, to the lonely, silent places of affliction; affliction in others, or in yourself, alike meant to lead us unto Christ. To be always in the inn, always and altogether in the uproar, and heat, and enjoyment of the world; that would be death to us as Christians, death to our spiritual life. (Canon S. Reynolds Hole.)
The disowned Saviour
You are all familiar, perhaps, with the story of Ulysses, the great Greek warrior, king of the island of Ithaca, and one of the most illustrious heroes of the Trojan war. After an absence from his home for twenty years–years consumed in wars and wanderings–he returned to his island empire to find his palace beset by a circle of gay young lords, who were not only consuming his substance and wasting his resources in riotous living, but were adding insult to injury, on the one hand by usurping the reins of power in his dominions, and on the other by their infamous proposals, or, at least, by mutually vying for the hand of his beloved and longsuffering Penelope. Wisely, he did not at once make himself known. Had he done so, it might have cost him his life. Nay, doubtless, had he promptly revealed himself in his own proper character, these graceless suitors would not have hesitated instantly to put him out of his own house–incontinently and unceremoniously to order him off his own premises and out of his own kingdom. More likely still, they would have taken measures effectually to compass his death. Do you say that that was pretty rough treatment? I agree with you; and yet it was not more so than that which, eighteen hundred years ago, was accorded to the Son of Man. When the Saviour of men came into this world, His own world, the world He had made with His own hands and was about to redeem with His own blood, there was yet found in it no room for Himself. No room! Hustled out of the inn where others found accommodation, the Divine Son of Mary and of God was left to creep into the world, as it were, through a back door–to be ushered into His earthly existence surrounded only by the wondering beasts of the stall. (R H. Howard.)
Christ waiting to find room
On the birth and birthplace of Jesus there is something beautifully correspondent with His personal fortunes afterwards, and also with the fortunes of His gospel, even down to our own age and time. He comes into the world as it were to the taxing, and there is scant room for Him even at that. My subject is the very impressive fact that Jesus could not find room in the world, and has never yet been able to find it.
I. SEE HOW IT WAS WITH HIM IN HIS LIFE. Herods massacre of innocents; parents unable to understand Him, to take in conception of His Divine childhood; John the Baptist growing doubtful, and sending to inquire whether He is really the Christ; Rabbis with no room in their little theologies for His doctrine; His own disciples getting but slenderest conception of His person and mission from His very explicit teachings.
II. So IF WE SPEAK OF CHRISTENDOM, it might seem as if Christ had certainly gotten room, so far, to enter and be glorified in human society. But
(a)what multitudes of outlying populations are there that have never heard of Him. And
(b) of the states and populations that acknowledge Him, how little of Christ, take them altogether, can there be said to be really in them?
III. To take a closer inspection. GREAT MULTITUDES UTTERLY REJECT HIM, AND STAY FAST IN THEIR SINS. They have no time to be religious, or the sacrifices are too great; some too poor, others too rich. Some too much honoured, and some too much want to be. Some in their pleasures, some in their expectations. Some too young, some too old, &c. The great world thus under sin, even that part of it which is called Christian, is very much like the inn at Bethlehem, preoccupied, crowded full in every part, so that, as the mother of Jesus looked up wistfully to the guest-chambers that cold night, drawing her Holy Thing to her bosom, in like manner Jesus Himself stands at the door of these multitudes, knocking vainly, till His head is filled with dew, and His locks are wet with the drops of the night.
IV. CHURCHCRAFT MEANTIME HAS BEEN QUITE AS NARROW, QUITE AS SORE A LIMITATION AS STATECRAFT.
V. AND THE ATTEMPTED WORK OF SCIENCE, CALLING ITSELF THEOLOGY, IS SCARCELY MORE EQUAL TO ITS THEME.
VI. But the most remarkable thing is that, when the old niggard dogma of a bigot age and habit give way, and emancipated souls begin to look for a new Christianity and a broader, worthier faith, just then everything great in the gospel vanishes more strangely than before. Faith becomes mere opinion, love a natural sentiment, piety itself a blossom on the wild stock of nature. Jesus, the Everlasting Word, dwindles to a mere man. The Holy Spirit is made to be very nearly identical with the laws of the soul. The new Christianity, the more liberal, more advanced belief, turns out to be a discovery that we are living in nature just as nature makes us live. Salvation there is none; nothing is left for a gospel but development, with a little human help from the excellent Person, Jesus. Is it not time that Christ cur Master should begin to be more fitly represented by His people. Be it yours, then, to make room for Him, even according to the greatness of His power–length, breadth, depth, height. (H. Bushnell, D. D.)
A fit nursery for the Holy Child
We try to realize the scene and situation of which the text tells us; and we feel that the stable and the manger were not a fit nursery and cradle for the Holy Child. The best house in Bethlehem, and the fairest chamber in it, would have been honoured by that wondrous birth And pious fancy, offended at the lowly birthplace of the Lord, has constructed legends in the hope to hide its shame. They say that the cave in which the Virgin rested glowed with a glorious light as soon as she entered it, and that this light, excelling the brightness of the sun, remained within the cave as long as she was there. We share the feeling out of which such legend grew. And yet, while lamenting that, through want of room, the Saviour should have been born in such a lowly place, it may be that we are not giving Him the best accommodation that we can. For want of room He may be pushed away into some cold corner of our hearts, and to some small apartment of our thoughts. Even in our worship He has often less room than He claims. There is not a precious thing we have that does not owe some of its preciousness to Him. Our lives would be sad indeed, and all our merriment would be but a surface thing, like a hollow laugh or ghastly smile, that seeks to hide our inward wretchedness, were it not for those bright hopes that Christ has enabled us to cherish. If we trace them back to their source we shall find them all in Him. Let us find room for Him then amid all the gladness of this season and all the pleasures of this day. (E. A. Lawrence.)
A fit prelude to a life of poverty, humiliation, and sacrifice
By a vision of the night God could have prepared the keeper of the inn for the reception of the worlds Saviour; by a message conveyed by angelic lips He could have commanded the most sumptuous welcome which earths palaces could afford; He who created the beauties which smiled on the bosom of paradise could have called into existence a garden blooming with flowers which never graced primeval Eden, and amid its blushing charms the Rose of Sharon might have budded. But no! In Gods estimation, what difference is there between a palace and a manger? Whatever Christ touched He dignified. The king, untouched by Christ, is blind and miserable and naked. The pauper in whose heart Christ abides is gifted with loftiest dignity. Christ shed a glory round that Eastern stable. Had infant Caesars pillowed their heads in the manger it would have been a manger still; but Christ having found a cradle there, the manger is henceforth distinguished by such a glory as never shone on the palaces of kings. (Dr. Parker.)
No room for Christ
NO ROOM FOR JESUS.
He was cradled in a manger;
His own angels sung the hymn
Of rejoicing at His coming,
Yet there was no room for Him.
Oh, my brothers, are we wiser,
Are we better now than they
Have we any room for Jesus
In the life we live to-day? (Anon)
Not much room for our Lord Jesus
Has there been, or will there be;
Room for Pilate and for Herod–
Not for Him of Calvary.
Room for pleasures–doors wide open,
And for business,–but for Him
Only here and there a manger,
Like to that at Bethlehem.
NEW PRINCE, NEW POMP.
The inns are full; no man will yield
This little pilgrim bed;
But forced He is with silly beasts
In crib to shroud His head.
Despise Him not for lying there
First what He is inquire:
An Orient pearl is often found
In depth of dirty mire.
Weigh not His crib, His wooden dish,
Nor beasts that by Him feed;
Weigh not His mothers poor attire,
Nor Josephs simple weed.
This stable is a princes court,
The crib His chair of state;
The beasts are parcel of His pomp,
The wooden dish His plate.
The persons in that poor attire
His royal liveries wear;
The Prince Himself is come from heaven:
This pomp is praised there.
With joy approach, O Christian wight
Do homage to thy King;
And highly praise this humble pomp
Which He from heaven doth bring.
(R. Southwell.)
That night in Bethlehem, if Joseph had gone to some house and made them thoroughly understand that the Lord of Glory was about to be born in that village, they would have said, Here is the best room in our house. Come in; come in. Occupy everything. But when Joseph asked at this house and that house and the other house, they said, No room on the floor, no room on the lounge, no room for Christ. Ah! that has been the trouble in all the ages. The world has never had room for Him. No room in the heart, for here are all the gains and the emoluments of the world that are coming up to be enrolled, and they must find entertainment and lodging. Every passion full. Every desire full. Every capacity of body, mind, and soul full. No room for Christ. Room for all unholy aspirations, room for self-seeking, room for pride, room for Satan, room for all the concerted passions of darkness, but no room for Jesus. I go into a beautiful store. I find its shelves crowded with goods, and the counter crowded, and the floor crowded. It is crowded even to the ceiling. They have left just room enough in that store for commercial men, for bargain-makers, for those who come to engage in great mercantile undertakings, but no room in that store for Christ. I go into a house. It is a beautiful home. I am glad to see all those beautiful surroundings. I am glad to see that the very best looms wove those carpets, and the best manufactory turned out those musical instruments. There is no gospel against all that. But I find no Christ in that household. Room for the gloved and the robed; room for satin sandals and diamond head-gear; room for graceful step, and obsequious bow, and the dancing up and down of quick feet; room for all light, and all mirth, and all music; but–hear it, O thou Khan of Bethlehem–hear it, you angels who carolled for the shepherds in Bethlehem–no room in that house for Christ! No room in the nursery, for the children are not taught to pray; no room in the dining-hall, for no blessing is asked on the food; no room in the sleeping apartment, for Gods protection is not asked for the night. Jesus comes, and He retorts. He says, I come to this world, and I find it has no room for Me; but I have room for it. Room in My heart–it beats in sympathy with all their sorrows. Room in My Church–I bought it with My blood. Room in heaven. Room in the anthem that never dies. Room in the banner procession. Room in the joys eternal. Room in the doxologies before the throne. Room for ever. (Dr. Talmage.)
A night in a Syrian inn
I found the house consisted of only one very lofty room, about eighteen feet square. Just within the door a donkey and a yoke of oxen stood; and I soon perceived that rather more than one-third of the room was set apart for cattle, where the floor, which was on a level with the street, was of earth, and partially strewn with fodder. Suddenly the idea entered my mind that it must have been in such a house as this that Christ was born. I imagined Joseph anxiously seeking rest and shelter for Mary after her long journey. All the guest-chambers were already filled. The raised floor was crowded with strangers who had, like them, come to be taxed. But Joseph and Mary may have taken refuge from the cold in the lower part of the room. The manger was very likely close by Marys side, hollowed out at the edge of the dais, and filled with soft winter fodder. I raised my head and looked at one of the mangers, and I felt how natural it was to use it as a cradle for a newly-born infant. Its size, its shape, its soft bed of fodder, its nearness to the warm fire always burning on the dais in mid-winter, would immediately suggest the idea to an Eastern mother. (Rogers.)
No room for Jesus
Before you utterly damn this unnamed Jewish innkeeper and his seemingly unfeeling guests, pray be reasonable, and consider three things in abatement.
(1) That you bring to the judgment a culture in the humanities which you owe entirely to this Jesus, who had not yet been born; and
(2) that the inn-keeper had reasons for his conduct quite as valid as those which are perpetually allowed among men; and
(3) that towards this very same Jesus you and I have behaved much worse than did these people whom we are so forward to denounce.
I. As to the first. MEN ARE GENERALLY GUILTY OF HOLDING THEIR FELLOWS TO ACCOUNT FOR A MEASURE OF LIGHT AND CULTURE WHICH THOSE FELLOW-MEN DO NOT POSSESS, BUT WHICH THEIR JUDGES DO.
II. But as to the second–LET US SEE WHAT REASONS PROBABLY INFLUENCED THE INN-KEEPER, AND WHETHER THE MASS OF MANKIND WOULD NOT THINK THOSE REASONS QUITE VALID.
1. He turned them off because they were not known. It is a busy time. The imperial edict for the enrolment of the provinces is bringing multitudes from the country to town. At this juncture two unknown people present themselves. One is a young woman. Her condition betrays itself. Who are they? The inn-keeper does not know them. Now, under the circumstances, would not such a reception as they received in Bethlehem be awarded to persons in similar condition at a majority of houses in Christendom on any Christmas Day?
2. Their appearance and the condition of their luggage were against them. You know what is meant by a carpet-bag, on one hand, and on the other by a Saratoga trunk and what a bid for attention a man makes by his luggage. Little did Joseph and Mary have. The inn-keeper had his regular customers. They were substantial citizens from the neighbouring country. To bring in two strangers for a night might be to drive off a dozen good, responsible customers for ever. For you must mark that the real glory of Mary and Jesus was unknown to this tavern-keeper, and was really unsuspected.
3. They were poor and could not pay. It would have greatly increased the bill of a rich couple who should have demanded the turning of a guest from his apartments to make way for themselves in an emergency.
III. Now in the third case, after you have considered the difference made in our culture by the blessed Jesus, and all the reasons which the inn-keeper had for turning Mary into the stable because he had no room for her and Jesus in the inn, before you pronounce sentence, make some little examination into the question whether we have not treated Jesus worse than He was treated in Bethlehem. The decision of that question will obviously much depend upon the space in our hearts and lives which Jesus is allowed by us to occupy. Are there not some of us who never permit Him to come upon our premises? So present is He everywhere among men by the power of His principles and His Spirit, that it is not possible to exclude Him utterly, and yet, so far as our responsibility is concerned, we do keep Him out to the whole extent of our failure to give Him a welcome to our thoughts, to our affections, and to our activities. Does He have ample welcome to all these departments of our existence? Does He have the chief place in our thoughts–the best place in our love–the largest place in our work? Is He welcomed and honoured?
1. Jesus is kept out of your heart because you do not know Him. Your ignorance is wilful. Recollect that He does not come unborn to you, as He did to the inn-keeper in Bethlehem. He comes to you with all His history of growth and beauty, of truth and activity, of self-denial and suffering, of love and power. The innkeeper of Bethlehem will rise up in the Judgment with many men of this generation and condemn them–because he turned away an unaccredited woman, and you reject the acknowledged Lord of Glory.
2. And you have the inn-keepers second reason: it will drive other guests away. Perhaps it would turn other guests out of your heart, perhaps not. If any depart because Jesus came, you ought to be glad of their departure. Here is a whole room full of the members of the large family of the Pleasures. They are many, and they are exacting. They take large space, for they live widely. Many of them are most deceptive, having stolen the garb and imitated the manners of the most reputable and solid Enjoyments. These latter are the most pleasant and among the most respectable guests that the heart can entertain. They will stay with Jesus,. while those wild and giddy and profitless things you call Pleasures would better have no place in your affections. You were not born to be amused, but to be disciplined.
And there is Business, taking up almost all your heart and head, and crowding you, and calling you, and bothering you, until you are so nervous that you can hardly eat or sleep. Room for darkness, and no room for light; room for foulness, and no room for purity; room for death, but no room for life! Every story from attic to basement crowded, and Jesus turned out into the stable!
3. But the inn-keeper sent Mary to the stable because it would not be remunerative to entertain her in his house. He would have been compelled to turn out some well-known and liberally-paying guests. You know Him to be a Prince, for whose sake every reasonable man would think it quite the proper thing to dismiss any other guest. Does not pay to entertain Jesus! Did you ever know a man who took Jesus into his intellect, and worked up his studies under that Great Master, and not grow in profoundness of thought and width of range of intellectual vision? Did you ever know an artist give Jesus a lodging, and not thereby have all his aesthetic nature quickened and purified and brightened? Did you ever know any man to conduct any business for Jesus, permeating his life with the Spirit of Jesus, basing his plans on the principles taught by Jesus, and laying every profitable income of his trade as a tribute at the feet of Jesus, who did not thrive and increase and have happiness along the whole line of his business career? Is He going away? It may be that your years are drawing to a close. Has He grown weary of your insulting dismissals? Stop! Lord Jesus Christ! O Son of Mary, stop! Do not leave such of the readers of this page as have said to Thee, No room! It must not be. I seem to hear these busy men in future knocking passionately and desperately at the gate of mercy, but without love of Jesus, and out of the solemn profoundness of eternity there comes the crushing echo, No room! And conscience shrieks to them, No room! No room among the crowns and songs and glories of heaven for the hearts that had no room for Jesus! (C. F. Deems, D. D.)
Fuente: Biblical Illustrator Edited by Joseph S. Exell
Verse 7. Laid him in a manger] Wetstein has shown, from a multitude of instances, that means not merely the manger, but the whole stable, and this I think is its proper meaning in this place. The Latins use praesepe, a manger, in the same sense. So Virgil, AEn. vii. p. 275.
Stabant ter centum nitidi in praesepibus altis.
“Three hundred sleek horses stood in lofty stables.”
Many have thought that this was a full proof of the meanness and poverty of the holy family, that they were obliged to take up their lodging in a stable; but such people overlook the reason given by the inspired penman, because there was no room for them in the inn. As multitudes were going now to be enrolled, all the lodgings in the inn had been occupied before Joseph and Mary arrived. An honest man who had worked diligently at his business, under the peculiar blessing of God, as Joseph undoubtedly had, could not have been so destitute of money as not to be able to procure himself and wife a comfortable lodging for a night; and, had he been so ill fitted for the journey as some unwarrantably imagine, we may take it for granted he would not have brought his wife with him, who was in such a state as not to be exposed to any inconveniences of this kind without imminent danger.
There was no room for them in the inn.] In ancient times, inns were as respectable as they were useful, being fitted up for the reception of travellers alone:-now, they are frequently haunts for the idle and the profligate, the drunkard and the infidel;-in short, for any kind of guests except Jesus and his genuine followers. To this day there is little room for such in most inns; nor indeed have they, in general, any business in such places. As the Hindoos travel in large companies to holy places and to festivals, it often happens that the inns (suraies) are so crowded that there is not room for one half of them: some lie at the door, others in the porch. These inns, or lodging-houses, are kept by Mohammedans, and Mussulmans obtain prepared food at them; but the Hindoos purchase rice, &c., and cook it, paying about a halfpenny a night for their lodging. WARD’S Customs.
Fuente: Adam Clarke’s Commentary and Critical Notes on the Bible
It is Bucers note, that in the Greek it is not her firstborn Son, but , her Son, the firstborn; he was truly her Son, and her Son firstborn, but he was not called upon that account merely, for he was the firstborn of every creature, Col 1:15; he was the firstborn also of Mary, but it cannot be from thence concluded she had more sons, for where there is but one son he is the firstborn.
And wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, &c. Whether the inn was in the city, or in the suburbs adjoining near to the city, is not material for us to know; nor, considering the occasion of meeting at Bethlehem at that day, and the numbers who upon that occasion must be there, is it at all strange, that a person of no higher visible quality than a carpenter should not find a room in the inn, but be thrust into a stable; nor was it unusual in those countries for men and women to have lodgings in the same rooms where beasts were kept, it is no more than is at this day in some places even in Europe. Here the virgin falls into her labour, brings forth her Son, and lodgeth him in a manger; God (by this) teaching all Christians to despise the high and gay things of this world. He who, though he was in the form of God, and thought it not robbery to be equal with the Father, thus making himself of no reputation; and being found in fashion as a man, thus humbling himself, as the apostle speaks, Phi 2:6-8.
Fuente: English Annotations on the Holy Bible by Matthew Poole
7. first-bornSo Mt1:25; yet the law, in speaking of the first-born, regardeth notwhether any were born after or no, but only that none wereborn before [LIGHTFOOT].
wrapt him . . . laid himThemother herself did so. Had she then none to help her? It would seemso (2Co 8:9).
a mangerthe manger,the bench to which the horses’ heads were tied, on which their foodcould rest [WEBSTER andWILKINSON].
no room in the innasquare erection, open inside, where travellers put up, and whose rearparts were used as stables. The ancient tradition, that our Lord wasborn in a grotto or cave, is quite consistent with this, the countrybeing rocky. In Mary’s condition the journey would be a slow one, andere they arrived, the inn would be fully occupiedaffectinganticipation of the reception He was throughout to meet with (Joh1:11).
Wrapt in Hisswaddlingbands,
And in Hismanger laid,
The hope andglory of all lands
Is come tothe world’s aid.
No peaceful home upon Hiscradle smiled,
Guests rudely went andcame where slept the royal Child.
KEBLE
But some “guests went and came”not “rudely,” but reverently. God sent visitors ofHis own to pay court to the new-born King.
Lu2:8-20. ANGELICANNUNCIATION TO THESHEPHERDSTHEIRVISIT TO THE NEWBORNBABE.
Fuente: Jamieson, Fausset and Brown’s Commentary Critical and Explanatory on the Whole Bible
And she brought forth her firstborn son,…. At Bethlehem, as was predicted; and the Jews themselves own, that the Messiah is already born, and born at Bethlehem. They have a tradition, that an Arabian should say to a Jew k
“Lo! the king Messiah is born; he said to him, what is his name? Menachem: he asked him, what is his father’s name? he replied to him, Hezekiah; he said unto him, from whence is he? he answered, from the palace of the king of Bethlehem.”
Which is elsewhere l reported, with some little variation; the Arabian said to the Jew,
“the Redeemer of the Jews is born; he said unto him, what is his name? he replied, Menachem is his name: and what is his father’s name? he answered, Hezekiah: he said unto him, and where do they dwell? he replied, in Birath Arba, in Bethlehem.”
And the Jewish chronologer affirms m, that
“Jesus the Nazarene, was born at Bethlehem Judah, a “parsa” and a half from Jerusalem.”
And even the author of the blasphemous book of the life of Christ owns n, that
“Bethlehem Judah was the place of his nativity.”
Jesus is called Mary’s firstborn, because she had none before him; though she might not have any after him; for the first that opened the matrix, was called the firstborn, though none followed after, and was holy to the Lord, Ex 13:2. Christ, as to his human nature; was Mary’s firstborn; and as to his divine nature, God’s firstborn:
and wrapped him in swaddling clothes; which shows, that he was in all things made like unto us, sin only excepted. This is one of the first things done to a new born infant, after that it is washed, and its navel cut; see Eze 16:4 and which Mary did herself, having neither midwife nor nurse with her; from whence it has been concluded, that the birth of Jesus was easy, and that she brought him forth without pain, and not in that sorrow women usually do;
and laid him in a manger. The Persic version serves for a comment; “she put him into the middle of the manger, in the place in which they gave food to beasts; because in the place whither they came, they had no cradle”: this shows the meanness of our Lord’s birth, and into what a low estate he came; and that now, as afterwards, though Lord of all, yet had not where to lay his head in a proper place; and expresses his amazing grace, in that he was rich, yet for our sakes became poor: and the reason of his being here laid was,
because there was no room for them in the inn. It seems that Joseph had no house of his own to go into, nor any relation and friend to receive him: and it may be, both his own father and Mary’s father were dead, and therefore were obliged to put up at an inn; and in this there was no room for them, because of the multitude that were come thither to be enrolled: and this shows their poverty and meanness, and the little account that was made of them; for had they been rich, and made any considerable figure, they would have been regarded, and room made for them; especially since Mary was in the circumstances she was; and it was brutish in them to turn them into a stable, when such was her case.
k T. Hieros. Berncot, fol. 5. 1. l Echa Rabbati, fol. 50. 1. m David Ganz, ut supra. (par. 2. fol. 14. 2.) n Toldos Jesu, p. 7.
Fuente: John Gill’s Exposition of the Entire Bible
Her firstborn ( ). The expression naturally means that she afterwards had other children and we read of brothers and sisters of Jesus. There is not a particle of evidence for the notion that Mary refused to bear other children because she was the mother of the Messiah.
Wrapped in swaddling clothes (). From , a swathing band. Only here and verse 12 in the N.T., but in Euripides, Aristotle, Hippocrates, Plutarch. Frequent in medical works.
In a manger ( ). In a crib in a stall whether in a cave (Justin Martyr) or connected with the inn we do not know. The cattle may have been out on the hills or the donkeys used in travelling may have been feeding in this stall or another near.
In the inn ( ). A lodging-house or khan, poor enough at best, but there was not even room in this public place because of the crowds for the census. See the word also in Luke 22:11; Mark 14:14 with the sense of guest-room (cf. 1Ki 1:13). It is the Hellenistic equivalent for and appears also in one papyrus. See Ex 4:24. There would sometimes be an inner court, a range or arches, an open gallery round the four sides. On one side of the square, outside the wall, would be stables for the asses and camels, buffaloes and goats. Each man had to carry his own food and bedding.
Fuente: Robertson’s Word Pictures in the New Testament
Her first born son. The Greek reads literally, her son, the first born. Wrapped in swaddling clothes [] . Only here and verse
Luk 2:12Naturally found often in medical writings. Swaddle is swathel, from the verb to swathe.
In a manger [ ] . Used by Luke only, here and Luk 13:15. Wyc. has a cracche, spelt also cratch. Compare French creche, a manger. Quite possibly a rock cave. Dr. Thomson says : “I have seen many such, consisting of one or more rooms, in front of and including a cavern where the cattle were kept” (Land and Book “).
In the inn [ ] . Only here, chapter Luk 23:11; Mr 14:14, on which see note. In both these passages it is rendered guest chamber, which can hardly be the meaning here, as some have maintained. (See Geikie, “Life and Words of Christ,” 1, 121.) In that case the expression would be, they found no kataluma, guest chamber. The word refers to the ordinary khan, or caravanserai. Tynd., hostrey. “A Syrian khan is a fort and a mart; a refuge from thieves; a shelter from the heat and dust; a place where a man and his beast may lodge; where a trader may sell his wares, and a pilgrim may slake his thirst…. Where built by a great sheikh, it would have a high wall, an inner court, a range of arches or lewans, an open gallery round the four sides, and, in many cases, a tower from which the watcher might descry the approach of inarauding bands. On one side of the square, but outside the wall, there is often a huddle of sheds, set apart from the main edifice, as stables for the asses and camels, the buffaloes and goats. In the center of the khan springs a fountain of water, the first necessity of an Arab ‘s life; and around the jets an troughs in which the limpid element streams, lies the gay and picturesque litter of the East. Camels wait to be unloaded; dogs quarrel for a bone; Bedaween from the desert, their red zannars choked with pistols, are at prayer. In the archways squat the merchants with their bales of goods…. Half naked men are cleansing their hands ere sitting down to eat. Here a barber is at work upon a shaven crown; there a fellah lies asleep in the shade…. Each man has to carry his dinner and his bed; to litter his horse or camel; to dress his food; to draw his water; to light his fire, and to boil his mess of herbs” (Hepworth Dixon, ” The Holy Land “).
Luk 2:8Shepherds. Luke’s Gospel is the gospel of the poor and lowly. This revelation to the shepherds acquires additional meaning as we remember that shepherds, as a class, were under the Rabbinic ban, because of their necessary isolation from religious ordinances, and their manner of life, which rendered strict legal observance wellnigh impossible.
Keeping watch [ ] . Fulakh is sometimes used of a watch as a measure of time, as in Mt 14:25; Mr 6:48; Luk 12:38. So possibly here. See Rev. in margin, night watches. There is a play upon the words : watching watches. There was near Bethlehem, on the road to Jerusalem, a tower known as Migdal Eder, or the watch tower of the flock. Here was the station where shepherds watched the flocks destined for sacrifice in the temple. Animals straying from Jerusalem on any side, as far as from Jerusalem to Migdal Eder, were offered in sacrifice. It was a settled conviction among the Jews that the Messiah was to be born in Bethlehem, and equally that he was to be revealed from Migdal Eder. The beautiful significance of the revelation of the infant Christ to shepherds watching the flocks destined for sacrifice needs no comment.
Their flock [ ] . May not the singular number fall in with what has just been said? – the flock, the temple flock, specially devoted to sacrifice. The pronoun their would furnish no objection, since it is common to speak of the flock as belonging to the shepherd. Compare Joh 10:3, 4.
Fuente: Vincent’s Word Studies in the New Testament
1) “And she brought forth her firstborn son,” (kai eteken ton huion autes ton prototkon) “And she gave birth to her firstborn son,” but not the only son she ever had, Mat 13:55; Mar 6:3; Isa 7:14; Mat 1:25. The firstborn among the Jews had special positions, Exo 13:12-13; Exo 22:29.
2) “And wrapped him in swaddling clothes,” (kai esparganosen auton) “And she swathed him,” or softly wrapped him in swaddling clothes.
3) “And laid him in a manger;” (kai aneklinen auton en phaten) “And she laid him in a manger,” located in a cattle stall or horse crib, where they were lodged for the night. The manger was a trough where cattle-feed was placed for the cattle to eat or for the donkeys to eat.
4) “Because there was no room for them in the inn.” (dioti ouk en autois topos en to katalumati) “Because there was not a place for them in the inn,” which was crowded and over filled for the night. Traditionally the place of the Lord’s birth was in a grotto or rock cave behind the inn, affording a crude shelter from the night.
Fuente: Garner-Howes Baptist Commentary
7. Because there was no room for them in the inn We see here not only the great poverty of Joseph, but the cruel tyranny which admitted of no excuse, but compelled Joseph to bring his wife along with him, at an inconvenient season, when she was near the time of her delivery. Indeed, it is probable that those who were the descendants of the royal family were treated more harshly and disdainfully than the rest. Joseph was not so devoid of feeling as to have no concern about his wife’s delivery. He would gladly have avoided this necessity: but, as that is impossible, he is forced to yield, (131) and commends himself to God. We see, at the same time, what sort of beginning the life of the Son of God had, and in what cradle (132) he was placed. Such was his condition at his birth, because he had taken upon him our flesh for this purpose, that he might, “empty himself” (Phi 2:7) on our account. When he was thrown into a stable, and placed in a manger, and a lodging refused him among men, it was that heaven might be opened to us, not as a temporary lodging, (133) but as our eternal country and inheritance, and that angels might receive us into their abode.
(131) “ Il baisse la teste;” — “he bows the head.”
(132) “ Comment il a este heberge.”
(133) “ Non modo hospitii jure;” — “ non point comme un logis pour y estre hebergez en passant.”
Fuente: Calvin’s Complete Commentary
(7) She brought forth her first-born son.On the question whether anything may be inferred from the word first-born, as to the subsequent life of Mary and Joseph, see Note on Mat. 1:25.
Wrapped him in swaddling clothes.After the manner of the East, then, as now, these were fastened tightly round the whole body of the child, confining both legs and arms.
Laid him in a manger.A tradition found in the Apocryphal Gospel of the Infancy fixes a cave near Bethlehem as the scene of the Nativity, and Justin Martyr finds in this a fulfilment of the LXX. version of Isa. 33:16, His place of defence shall be in a lofty cave. Caves in the limestone rocks of Juda were so often used as stables, that there is nothing improbable in the tradition. The present Church of the Nativity has beneath it a natural crypt or cavern, in which St. Jerome is said to have passed many years, compiling his Latin translation (that known as the Vulgate) of the Sacred Scriptures. The traditional ox and ass, which appear in well-nigh every stage of Christian art in pictures of the Nativity, are probably traceable to a fanciful interpretation of Isa. 1:3, which is, indeed, cited in the Apocryphal Gospel ascribed to St. Matthew, as being thus fulfilled.
There was no room for them in the inn.The statement implies that the town was crowded with persons who had come up to be registered theresome, perhaps, exulting, like Joseph, in their descent from David. The inn of Bethlehemwhat in modern Eastern travel is known as a khan or caravanserai, as distinct from a hostelry (the inn of Luk. 10:34)offered the shelter of its walls and roofs, and that only. It had a memorable history of its own, being named in Jer. 41:17, as the inn of Chimham, the place of rendezvous from which travellers started on their journey to Egypt. It was so called after the son of Barzillai, whom David seems to have treated as an adopted son (2Sa. 19:37-38), and was probably built by him in his patrons city as a testimony of his gratitude.
Fuente: Ellicott’s Commentary for English Readers (Old and New Testaments)
7. Her first born See note on Mat 1:25. Van Oosterzee says, “The question of the brethren of Jesus must be decided independently of the phrase first born.” Not independently, we reply; the argument is far from standing as it would if Jesus were not twice called first born long after it was known, if true, that there was no second born. The proof though not conclusive of itself is cogent.
In swaddling clothes The verb to swathe or swaddle signifies to wrap tightly round with bandages or cloth. This custom of tightly binding the new-born infant was formerly practiced with injurious severity until medical men grew wiser.
Manger inn It seems clear from the text that the manger was not in the inn or kahn. If the stable itself were in the khan it would hardly be said that there was no room for them in the khan. Hence there is good reason to believe with Dr. Thomson, “That the birth actually took place in an ordinary house of some common peasant, and that the babe was laid in one of the mangers, such as are still found in the dwellings of the farmers of this region.”
Manger “It is common,” says Dr. Thomson, to find two sides of the one room, where the native farmer resides with his cattle, fitted up with these mangers, and the remainder [of the room] elevated about two feet higher for the accommodation of the family. The mangers are built of small stones and mortar in the shape of a box, or rather of a kneading trough, and when cleaned up and whitewashed, as they often are in summer, they do very well to lay little babes in. Indeed, our own children have slept there in our rude summer retreats on the mountains.”
Dr. Thomson well says that the word house used by Matthew (Mat 2:11) “does not much favour the idea” held by many that the birth took place in a cave. Yet as this idea is as old as the middle of the second century, it is entitled to profound respect. Over the cave selected by that primitive tradition the empress Helena, mother of Constantine, erected the magnificent Church of the Nativity, which still stands, (or rather its successor built by Justinian,) as an object of profound interest to the Christian traveler in the East. It is the oldest Christian Church in the world. The cave which it encloses Isaiah 38 feet by 11, and at the eastern end a silver star in a marble slab designates the spot of the birth.
That a native tradition should have selected a cave as the “house” of the Saviour’s birth is good proof that there is nothing in the supposition unnatural or improbable. In the soft limestone rock of Judea, easily cut and usually dry, caves, either natural or artificial, abound, and they are used for a great variety of purposes. They are used for dwellings, inns, stables, fortresses, refuges, and sepulchers. Pococke mentions a cave capacious enough to hold thirty thousand men; and Dr. Bonar (quoted in Andrew’s Life of Christ) says of the cave of Adullam, “You might spend days in exploring these vast apartments; for the whole mountain seems excavated, or rather honey-combed.” Mr. H.B. Tristam (The Land of Israel; or, Travels in Palestine: London. 1865) says of Endor: “It is full of caves, and the mud-built hovels are stuck on to the rocks in clusters, and are for the most part a mere continuation and enlargement of the cavern behind, which forms the larger part of this human den.” In other parts these cave-houses abound of a more eligible quality, and the traditionary cave of the Nativity bears, therefore, we may admit, strong marks of genuineness.
Inn Called a khan when belonging to a village or city; a caravanserai in the rural region.
The khan is not like an American tavern or hotel, a place where all the wants of a traveler or boarder are richly supplied for pay. It is a building erected at public expense, where merely the bare room for man and beast exists; but the traveler must bring his own equipments, furnishings, food, and fodder. In earlier ages, with a scanty population, the hospitable tent-dweller, like Abraham, hastened to entertain his guest with a gratuitous banquet, partly to maintain that law of hospitality which, in the absence of all inns in the country, was necessary to make traveling practicable, and partly because a guest in the desert was a rarity to be accepted and enjoyed. But as a denser population grew, this became too expensive an enjoyment. A single building was set apart for strangers who had no friends in town; and the old habit of hospitality showed itself merely in erecting the khan by town expense.
The khan is usually much on the model of the eastern house, but of much larger extent, as described in our first volume, pp. 121, 326. Four rows of apartments are so constructed as to enclose a large yard, with a well in the centre, where the cattle may be kept. The outer wall is usually of brick upon a stone basement. The apartments are entered by the guest from the yard, and are elevated two or three feet above the level of the yard. Below and behind the row of the travellers’ apartments was often the row, or the long room, of stables, into which the floors of the apartments, being a little extended, formed a platform upon which the camels could eat. (See the section, next page.) The animals stood with their heads towards the platform, and to their noses were suspended hair-bags containing the grain which they ate, which they rested upon the platform in order to thrust their noses into the grain. If the birth took place in the khan stable, this platform was the manger upon which, wrapped in his swaddling clothes, the infant Saviour was laid.
Fuente: Whedon’s Commentary on the Old and New Testaments
‘And she wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the guest room.’
As was usual with a new born baby He was wrapped in swaddling clothes, long strips of cloth wound round and round the baby to keep Him warm and secure. But because the guest room was full (probably because Joseph’s father or some other important relatives were using it) Joseph and Mary slept on the ground floor. Others also would be sleeping there at such a time, along with some domestic animals, as was customary in Jewish homes. They were not as fussy as we are, and they saw their animals as valuable, and as family friends. Among other things they were their daily milk supply. And there they laid Jesus in one of the animal’s feeding boxes among the warm and comfortable straw (it would be much more comfortable than Mary’s bed). What a stark contrast this was to the great Caesar making his decrees from his palace. And yet here was a greater than Caesar. Such was the introduction of the Son of God into the world.
‘The guest room.’ ‘Kataluma’ (‘guestchamber’ – Luk 22:11; Mar 14:14) not ‘pandocheion’ (‘inn’ – Luk 10:34). The word is the same as that used for the guestchamber in which Jesus and His disciples would eat the Passover (Luk 22:11). It could also mean ‘a resting place’, which could include an inn, but it is unlikely that on visiting the family lands they would sleep in an inn. Inns were for people who had nowhere else to go, and could find no hospitality. But at such a time hospitality would be at its most generous, especially for an heir to the throne of David. Even if they had no family home there would be relatives there, and tribal hospitality would not have allowed them not to be welcomed, especially as they would be expected because of the enrolment. Sleeping in the ground floor room was common practise and no insult, especially when the house was full. All suggestions that they were in a stable or in the open air are an insult to Jewish hospitality.
Fuente: Commentary Series on the Bible by Peter Pett
Luk 2:7. And she brought forth her first-born son The words might be rendered literally, she brought forth her son the first-born. The word first-born is sometimes used to signify that which is of superior excellence; and if it be applied to Christ in that sense, it will denote his superiority to all the sons of Adam, as well as to Adam himself. Dr. Doddridge observes, that the blessed virgin was so miraculously strengthened by God in her hour of extremity, as to be able to perform herself the necessary offices for her new-born infant. The vast concourse of people coming from all parts to be registered in the city belonging to their respective families, must inevitably have exposed those who came latest to the inconveniences mentioned in the text. The probability of this circumstance will appear greater, when we consider, that it is no uncommon thing, in the east and other countries, for travellers to lie in the same apartment with their camels, horses, &c. Even in Europe, particularly in Germany, many inns may be met with, where the stable is the first room you come into, and there the veturini or carriers usually lodge with their beasts. Tradition informs us, that the stable in which the holy family was lodged was, according to frequent usage in that country, hollowed out of a rock; and consequently the coldness of it, at least by night, must have greatly added to its other inconveniences. It is asserted by the best civilians and historians, that at such public enrolments as that referred to in this chapter, it was customaryto register children of all ages, as well as their parents. This circumstance must have afforded the greatest proof to ascertain the place of Christ’s birth; for it was customary to suspend the tables on which the enrolment was taken, in some public place; and we find Justin, Tertullian, and Chrysostom appealing to the tables extant in their days, as really containing the name of Jesus. Upon this humiliating circumstance of our Saviour’s birth in a stable, we may observe, how much the blessed Jesus, through the whole course of his life, despised the thingsmost esteemed by men; for though he was the Son of God, when he became man he chose to be born of parents in the meanest condition of life; though he was heir of all things, he chose to be born in an inn; nay, in the stable of an inn, where, instead of a cradle he was laid in a manger. The angels reported the good news of his birth; not to the rabbies and great men, but to shepherds, who, being plain honest people, were unquestionably good witnesses of what they heard and saw. When he grew up, he probably wrought with his father as a carpenter; and afterwards, while he executed the duties of his ministry, he was so poor, that he had not a place where to lay his head, but lived on the bounty of his friends. Thus, by going before men in the thorny path of poverty and affliction, he has taught them to be contented with their lot in life, however mean and humble.
Fuente: Commentary on the Holy Bible by Thomas Coke
7 And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.
Ver. 7. And she brought forth her firstborn ] Whether she were Deipara, the mother of God, was a great controversy, and raised a great storm in the Council of Ephesus; insomuch as the emperor declared both sides heretics. But forasmuch as she was the mother of Christ, Mat 1:23 , and Christ is God; in bringing forth Christ, she was the mother of God. non , ut voluit Nestorius. Whether she continued after this a virgin, pie credimus sed nihil affirmamus. But that she vowed virginity, as Papists say, we deny: for how could she promise virginity to God, and marriage to Joseph? There is a story, that when the old Romans had founded Templum pacis, Temple of peace, they sent to ask Apollo how long it should stand? he answered, Until a virgin brought forth: this they took to be perpetual. But therein they were as much mistaken as those Africans, who having an oracle, that when the Romans sent an army into Africa, Mundus cum tota sua prole periret, thought that then the world should be at an end. But afterwards the Romans sent an army thither under the conduct of one Mundus, who in battle was slain, together with his sons, by the Africans; and discovered the illusion of the devil.
Wrapped him in swaddling clothes ] This pains she was at (such was her love), though newly delivered, and much weakened thereby. His swaddling clothes were poor and ragged, as may be gathered out of the Greek word here used. , of , to rend.
Laid him in a manger ] Non in aureo reclinatorio, saith Ludolphus, not in a stately room, as the Porphyrogeniti in Constantinople; not in the best but basest place of the inn, which is counted the meanest house of a city. Oh humble Saviour, whither wilt thou descend?
Fuente: John Trapp’s Complete Commentary (Old and New Testaments)
7. ] Now that has disappeared from the text of St. Matthew [ Luk 1:25 ], it must be here remarked, that although the term may undoubtedly be used of an only child, such use is necessarily always connected with the expectation of others to follow, and can no longer have place when the whole course of events is before the writer and no others have followed . The combination of this consideration with the fact that brethren of our Lord are brought forward in this Gospel in close connexion with His mother, makes it as certain as any implied fact can be, that those brethren were the children of Mary herself.
Ancient tradition states the birthplace of our Lord to have been a cave: thus Justin Martyr, Dial. 78, p. 175, , , , , . And Origen, against Celsus, i. 51, p. 367: , . Similarly Eusebius, Athanasius, and others. This tradition is nowise inconsistent with our text for caves are used in most rocky countries as stables. Bleek has noticed that Justin Martyr refers to a prophecy in Isa 33:16 ( , LXX), and is disposed to think with Calov., alli [18] ., that the tradition may have arisen from this. But is not the converse much more likely?
[18] alli= some cursive mss.
, a public inn, or place of reception for travellers; not ‘ a room in a private house,’ for then the expression would be, ‘They found no .’ Of what sort this inn was, does not appear. It probably differs from , ch. Luk 10:34 , in not being kept by an host, : see note there.
Fuente: Henry Alford’s Greek Testament
her firstborn Son =
her son, the firstborn. App-179.
wrapped . . . swaddling clothes. Greek sparganoo = to swathe. Occurs only here and Luk 2:12. A medical term = bandage. See Co Luk 1:4, Luk 1:14. Eng. “swathe”. Anglo = Saxon swathu = as much grass as is mown at one stroke of the scythe. From Low Germ. swade = a scythe. Hence a shred, or slice, then a bandage. Compare Eze 16:4.
a = the. But all the Texts omit the Art.
manger. Greek phatne (from pateomai, to eat). Occurs only in verses: Luk 12:16, and Luk 13:15. Septuagint for Hebrew. ‘ebus. Pro 14:4.
no. Greek. ou. App-105.
the inn = the Khan. Not “guestchamber”, as in Luk 22:11 and Mar 14:14, its only other occurrences.
Fuente: Companion Bible Notes, Appendices and Graphics
7.] Now that has disappeared from the text of St. Matthew [Luk 1:25], it must be here remarked, that although the term may undoubtedly be used of an only child, such use is necessarily always connected with the expectation of others to follow, and can no longer have place when the whole course of events is before the writer and no others have followed. The combination of this consideration with the fact that brethren of our Lord are brought forward in this Gospel in close connexion with His mother, makes it as certain as any implied fact can be, that those brethren were the children of Mary herself.
Ancient tradition states the birthplace of our Lord to have been a cave: thus Justin Martyr, Dial. 78, p. 175, , , , , . And Origen, against Celsus, i. 51, p. 367: , . Similarly Eusebius, Athanasius, and others. This tradition is nowise inconsistent with our text-for caves are used in most rocky countries as stables. Bleek has noticed that Justin Martyr refers to a prophecy in Isa 33:16 ( , LXX), and is disposed to think with Calov., alli[18]., that the tradition may have arisen from this. But is not the converse much more likely?
[18] alli= some cursive mss.
, a public inn, or place of reception for travellers; not a room in a private house, for then the expression would be, They found no . Of what sort this inn was, does not appear. It probably differs from , ch. Luk 10:34, in not being kept by an host, : see note there.
Fuente: The Greek Testament
Luk 2:7. , she brought forth) O much wished-for birth, without which we ourselves might well wish that we had never been born! But do thou thyself, reader, see that thou makest sure of the benefit of that nativity.-V. g.]-, her first-born) A son is so called, before whom none else has been born, not a son who is born before others. The Hebrew has a more absolute meaning.-, wrapt in swaddling clothes) So the Wisd. of Son 7:4, : therefore , swaddling clothes, are not in themselves as it were a thing worthless and torn.[24] The rest of the attentions which used to be bestowed on infants just born, as described in Eze 16:4, are not expressed here.- , in the manger) Luk 2:12. A place put in antithesis to the inn, the place for the reception of men. It is probable that some imitations of this manger were afterwards made at Bethlehem for the sake of pilgrims (just as they were made in every part of the Mount of Olives), some one of which was afterwards accounted as the very place wherein the infant Jesus lay. The Saviour had a manger for His bed. He was, when a child, destitute of the convenience of a rocking cradle, but yet was without taint of impatience.- , in the inn) Even in the present day, there is seldom found a place [room] for Christ in inns.
[24] The word is used of rags in Aristoph. Ach. 430.-ED. and TRANSL.
Fuente: Gnomon of the New Testament
No Room
And she brought forth her firstborn son; and she wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.Luk 2:7.
There are not many texts in the Bible with which Christians, from the highest to the lowest, from the very aged to the young child who can but just speak, are more familiar than they are with this. We learn more or less about our Lords cradle almost as soon as we are out of our own cradles. That one part of the gospel history we know, even when the rest has quite slipped out of our minds.
Christs mother and Joseph had been living at their home at Nazareth when, according to St. Lukes Gospel, orders were given for one of those censuses, or enrolments of the people, which were sometimes used in ancient days as a basis for the imposition of a poll-tax. In such cases, people were enrolled according to their ancestry and the region from which they originally came; and thus it was that Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Juda, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David; to enrol himself with Mary who was betrothed to him, being great with child.
The little townit was no more than what we should call a villagewas crowded with people, many of whom had come for the same purpose and claimed the same exalted lineage; the inn or guest-chamberthere was rarely more than one in such small placeswas already crowded; this carpenter and his young bride were people of no particular importance and needed no special consideration, still less did the unborn Child; and so, as there was no room for them among the human guests, they had to find shelter in the stable hard by, among the beasts.
It used to be brought as an objection against the trustworthiness of St. Lukes Gospel that there was no evidence other than his that such an enrolment was known at that time or in that region. Why the evidence of this ancient document should be regarded as less valuable than that of another on such a point did not appear; but at any rate it no longer matters. Within the last few years records have been discovered, on fragments of papyrus found in the rubbish-heaps of old Egyptian towns, which prove conclusively that such enrolments did take place in that time and region; and of this objection we shall doubtless hear no more.1 [Note: 1 Bishop W. E. Collins, Hours of Insight, 112.]
I
No Room in the Inn
1. The story of the Nativity is not only very beautiful, as surely all will be willing to confess; it is historically true, a thing that some, even quite recently, have shown themselves eager to deny. Of course, to the faithful soul the whole story is convincing. The man who has seen the heavens opening in mercy and hope above his dark and sin-bound life finds no difficulty in believing that the glory of the Lord broke forth before mens very eyes what time the Saviour of the world began His earthly life. The man who year after year has been led by the Light of the World across the wastes and through the dark places of life does not ask the astronomers to give him permission to believe in the Star of Bethlehem. But apart from such a gracious predisposition to receive this lovely story, we find touches in it that a master of fiction, much less a simple, plain-minded man, could surely never have given to it. There are points in the story that would never have occurred to the weaver of a tale. And notable amongst them is St. Lukes simple statement that Mary in the hour of her need was shut out from such comfort and shelter as the inn at Bethlehem might have afforded. The Gospels were written by those who believed in Jesus as the Son of God. St. Luke was writing of the Nativity of his Lord, the birthday of the King of kings. And he pictures Him in that hour at the mercy of untoward circumstance. He is born in a stable and cradled in a manger. He could not have had a lowlier, a less kingly entrance into the world than that. There seems to be but one explanation of these apparently unpropitious details of the story, and that is that they are true.
One of the most absent-minded people I ever knew was a more or less distinguished ecclesiastic at whose house I used to visit as a child. He had won some fame in his youth as a poet, and he was, when I remember him, a preacher of some force; but he could not be depended upon in that capacity. Whatever he was interested in at the moment he preached about, and he had the power of being interested in very dreary things. His sermons were like reveries; indeed, his whole rendering of the service was that of a man who was reading a book to himself and often finding it unexpectedly beautiful and interesting. The result was sometimes startling, because one felt as if one had never heard the familiar words before. I remember his reading the account of the Nativity in a wonderfully feeling manner, because there was no room for them in the inn. I do not know how the effect was communicated; it was delivered with a half-mournful, half-incredulous smile. If those who refused them admittance had only known what they were doing.1 [Note: A. C. Benson, Along the Road, 286.]
2. To us, the first thought that would be suggested by being relegated to the stable would be that of humiliation: it would be degrading to be sent out amongst the beasts; and the second thought would be that of privation: it would be hard to be condemned to no better accommodation than that. But that idea would scarcely have occurred to travellers in those lands. In those lands, the inn or guest-chamber will be a large room or shed built of rough stones and mud, or a cave partly dug out of the earth, with an earthen floor, more like an English cow-house than anything else; and the stable may either be actually a part of the same cave or building, or a similar one close at hand. Anyhow, the accommodation is much the same, and you camp on the cleanest spot you can find of the earthen or stony floor, and make yourself comfortable as best you can; so thatand this is the important point to keep in mindthe real difference between the inn and the stable was rather in the company than in the accommodation. In some ways the stable had its advantages. It was perhaps quieter, it was certainly more secluded; possibly it was not less comfortable with the oxen and the asses than it would have been in the inn; certainly the mangera mere recess about half-way up the wall, where the fodder was storedmade a safer crib for the Holy Babe than the crowded floor of the guest-chamber, with hardly an inch to spare anywhere. Yes, nature did its best for Him, and He found a shelter amongst the beasts when men cast Him out; but that does not alter the fact that when the Lord of Glory came to be born on this earth, not even a common guest-chamber could find room for Him. He was born in the stable and cradled in a manger, because there was no room for him in the inn.
When I was travelling in Armenia and Kurdistan some three years ago, it befell me more than once or twice to have to spend the night in the stable, because there was no room in the inn; and the difference in actual accommodation was not so great as you might have supposed. The East Syrian people amongst whom I was travelling part of the time are very closely allied in race to the inhabitants of Palestine in the time of our Lord, and the customs are much the same still.1 [Note: Bishop W. E. Collins, Hours of Insight, 114.]
I never felt the full pathos of the scene of the birth of Jesus till, standing one day in a room of an old inn in the market-town of Eisleben, in Central Germany, I was told that on that very spot, four centuries ago, amidst the noise of a market-day and the bustle of a public-house, the wife of the poor miner, Hans Luther, who happened to be there on business, being surprised like Mary with sudden distress, brought forth in sorrow and poverty the child who was to become Martin Luther, the hero of the Reformation, and the maker of modern Europe.2 [Note: J. Stalker, The Life of Jesus Christ, 12.]
3. The birth in the manger because there was no room in the inn was natural. The fact that the child who was born was He whom Christendom celebrates does not make the indifference of Bethlehem a peculiar crime. The men of that time were not different from us all. They did not know. God, who taught through this His Son that, when we give alms, we should not sound a trumpet before us, gave His great gift with the like simplicity. When He gave His Son, He sent no heralds. The men to whom He came were busy with the cares which have always busied men. They were like ourselves, eager over what have always been recognized as great questionsquestions about taxation, national independence, a world empire, and singularly careless as to where the children are born.
We need to make room amid the crowding thoughts for the coming of the Lord of life and light. And some day, when we have done it, there will be a country which has a national religion, because there will be a country which believes in the Incarnation. It will realize something more of the mighty mystery that flesh and blood are the temple of the Holy Spirit. It will realize how our souls, which come hither to tabernacle in flesh a little time, give us kindred with the Christ who was born among us. And we shall make room amid our crowding and eager thoughts for Him to come in us.1 [Note: A. C. Welch.]
4. The birth in the manger was of His own ordering. It was the Divine Babes will to be born in such a place as that, and therefore He so ordered matters that His parents should not come to the inn till it was full, and that there should be no other place but that stable where they should lodge. It was not chance, God forbid! It was the will of the unborn Infant Himself. For He it is who ordereth all things in heaven and earth. He would be born in the city of David, because He was the Son of David, the King of Israel, and was to fulfil all the prophecies; He would not be born in royal state or comfort as the Son of David might be expected to be, because He was to save us by suffering and humility.
Whilst our Lord Jesus Christ was yet in the bosom of the Father, before He took our nature, He was free from all liability of suffering, and was under no call to suffer for men, except the importunate call of His own everlasting love; yet after He took our nature, and became the man Jesus Christ, He actually stood Himself within the righteous liability of suffering, not indeed on account of any flaw in His spotless holiness, but as a participator of that flesh which lay under the sentence of sorrow and death; and being now engulfed in the horrible pit along with all the others, He could only deliver them by being first delivered Himself, and thus opening a passage for them to follow Him by; as a man who casts himself into an enclosed dungeon which has no outlet in order to save a number of others whom he sees immured there, and when he is in, forces a passage through the wall, by dashing himself against it, to the great injury of his person. His coming into the dungeon is a voluntary act, but after he is there, he is liable to the discomforts of the dungeon by necessity, until he breaks through.1 [Note: Thomas Erskine, The Brazen Serpent, 263.]
II
No Room in the World
1. What was true of the Lords entrance upon life was true of all His later life also. There never was one amongst the sons of men who was so truly human as He; for in us humanity is marred and blurred by so much that is weak and low and base, and not truly human at all; but He who was the most truly Man of all men was all His life a stranger among men: He came unto his own, and his own received him not. It was not that He was in any sense a recluse, or that He shrank from human society; indeed, it was all the other wayHe yearned for companionship. The very first act of His public life was to draw to His side a little company of friends who were like-minded with Himself, and they were His companions ever after. Within this circle there were some who were specially dear to Him; and when He was about to face the darker agony of life He always invited them to accompany Him, and threw Himself on their sympathy. He was at home at the wedding feast and in the house of Simon the Pharisee and at the table of Levi the publican, and many another; indeed, when His enemies were casting about for some accusation against Him, they did not accuse Him of being inhuman like the ascetic John the Baptist, but called Him rather a man gluttonous, and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners. And yet, all His life He was alone; He was despised and rejected of men. He was occupied in business thatso men chose to thinkthey had no interest in; and sothey had no room for Him. When He had preached at Nazareth, where He was brought up, they arose and thrust Him out of the city. At Capernaum, when they saw the mighty works that He did on them that were diseased, they came and besought Him to depart out of their coasts. He passed through Samaria, and the Samaritans would not receive Him. Wherever He went He was a homeless wanderer. The foxes have holes, He said, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head. And the solitude was all the greater as the end drew near. Jerusalem would have none of Him; one of His own little company covenanted to betray Him. He went into the Garden that He might face all that was coming and be ready for it, taking the three to watch and pray with Him; but in the last resort not even they could help Him: He must needs tread the winepress alone. And so the rulers compassed His destruction, and the Romans scourged Him and delivered Him to be crucified, and at length He hung there upon the cross, isolated between heaven and earth, naked, forsaken and alone. Truly, while He was on earth there was no room for Him.
A marvellous great world it is, and there is room in it for many things; room for wealth, ambition, pride, show, pleasure; room for trade, society, dissipation; room for powers, kingdoms, armies, and their wars; but for Him there is the smallest room possible; room in the stable but not in the inn. There He begins to breathe, and at that point introduces Himself into His human life as a resident of our worldthe greatest and most blessed event, humble as the guise of it may be, that has ever transpired among mortals. If it be a wonder to mens eyes and ears, a wonder even to science itself, when the naming air-stone pitches into our world, as a stranger newly arrived out of parts unknown in the sky, what shall we think of the more transcendent fact, that the Eternal Son of God is born into the world; that, proceeding forth from the Father, not being of our system or sphere, not of the world, He has come as a Holy Thing into itGod manifest in the flesh, the Word made flesh, a new Divine Man, closeted in humanity, there to abide and work until He has restored the race itself to God? Nor is this wonderful annunciation any the less welcome, or any the less worthy to be celebrated by the hallelujahs of angels and men, that the glorious visitant begins to breathe in a stall. Was there not a certain propriety in such a beginning, considered as the first chapter and symbol of His whole history, as the Saviour and Redeemer of mankind?1 [Note: H. Bushnell, Christ and His Salvation, 2.]
2. What does the world offer in place of a room in the inn?
(1) We build Him stately material temples.We expend boundless treasure in their erection. Art joins hands with architecture, and the structure becomes a poem. Lily-work crowns the majestic pillar. Subdued light, and exquisite line, and tender colour add their riches to the finished pile. And the soul cries out, Here is a house for Thee, O Man of Nazareth, Lord of glory! Here is the home I have built for Thee. And if the soul would only listen there comes back the pained response, Where is the place of My rest? saith the Lord. The Most High dwelleth not in temples made with hands, I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit. The Lord of glory seeks the warm inn of the soul, and we offer Him a manger of stone.
(2) Or, in place of the home which He seeks, we build Him a fane of stately ritual.We spend infinite pains in designing dainty and picturesque ceremonials. We devise reverent and dignified movements. We invent an elaborate and impressive symbolism. We engage the ministry of noble music for the expression of our praise, and we swing the fragrant censer for the expression of our prayer. Or perhaps we discard the colour and the glow. We banish everything that is elaborate and ornate. We use no flowers, either in reality or in symbol. We reduce our ritualism to a simple posture. Our music is rendered without pride or ostentation. Everything is plain, prosaic and unadorned. We have a ritual without glitter, and we have movements without romance. But whether our ceremony be one or the other, the soul virtually says, Here is a ritualistic house I have built for Thee, O Christ! Take up Thine abode in the dwelling which I have provided. And if the soul would only listen it would hear the Lords reply, My son, give me thine heart. He seeks the inn of the soul; we offer Him a ritualistic manger.
(3) Or again, we build Him the massive house of a stately creed.The building is solid and comprehensive. All its parts are firm and well defined, and they are mortised with passionate zeal and devotion. We are proud of its constitution. The creed is all the more beautiful that it is now so venerable and hoary. The weather-stains of centuries only add to its significance and glory. There it stands, venerable, majestic, apparently indestructible, Here is a credal home for Thee, O Lord! I am jealous for the honour of Thy house. I will contend earnestly for every stone in the holy fabric! Here is a home for Thee, O King. And if the soul would reverently and quietly listen this would be the response it would hear, When the Son of man cometh, shall he find faith on the earth? That is what the Lord is seeking. He seeks not my credal statements but my personal faith. He solicits not my creed but my person, not my words but my heart. And so do we offer Him all these substitutes in the place of the dwelling He seeks. And if these are all we have to offer, the Son of man hath not where to lay his head. We offer Him the hospitality of a big outer creed, but there is no room in the inn.1 [Note: J. H. Jowett.]
Creed is the railway carriage; it wont take you on your journey unless you have the engine, which is active religion.2 [Note: George Frederic Watts, iii. 326.]
Some people seem to think that if they can pack the gospel away into a sound and orthodox creed it is perfectly safe. It is a sort of canned fruit of Christianity, hermetically sealed and correctly labelled which will keep for years without decay. An extravagant reliance has been placed, therefore, on confessions of faith as the preservatives of a pure gospel. But the heart is greater than the creed; and if the heart is wrong it will very soon corrupt the creed and interline it with its own heresies. Hence the wise injunction of the Apostle, Holding the mystery of the faith in a pure conscience.3 [Note: A. J. Gordon: A Biography, 289.]
3. How may the world find room for Him?
(1) By finding room for His truth and the love of it. The worlds attitude towards the birth of every great truth is focused in a single phrase in the simple story of the first Christmas, the greatest birthday since time began. Mary laid the infant Christ in a mangerbecause there was no room for them in the inn. Right must ever fight its way against the world. Truth must ever walk alone in its Gethsemane. Justice must bravely face its Calvary if it would still live in triumph after all efforts to slay it. Love must ever, in the end, burst forth in its splendour from the dark clouds of hate and discord that seek to obscure it. These great truths must be born in the manger of poverty, or pain, or trial, or suffering, finding no room in the inn until at last by entering it in triumph they honour the inn that never honoured them in their hours of need, of struggle or of darkness. It requires sterling courage to live on the uplands of truth, battling bravely for the right, undismayed by coldness, undaunted by contempt, unmoved by criticism, serenely confident even in the darkest hours, that right, justice and truth must win in the end.
Every great truth in all the ages has had to battle for recognition. If it be real it is worth the struggle. Out of the struggle comes new strength for the victor. Trampled grass grows the greenest. Hardship and trial and restriction and opposition mean new vitality to character. In potting plants, it is well not to have the pot too large, for the more crowded the roots the more the plant will bloom. It is true, in a larger sense, of life. The world has ever misunderstood and battled against its thinkers, its leaders, its reformers, its heroes.1 [Note: W. G. Jordan, The Crown of Individuality, 33.]
A happy man seems to be a solecism; it is a mans business to suffer, to battle, and to work.2 [Note: Carlyle, in Life of Lord Houghton, ii. 478.]
Even the spectacle of mans repeated and pathetic failure to live up to his own ideal is inspiring and consoling to this onlooker, since, in spite of long ages of ill-success, the race is not discouraged, but continues to strive as if for assured victory, rendering obedience, however imperfect, to the inner voice that speaks of duty owed to ourselves, to our neighbour, to our God; and it is inspiring and consoling that traces of the same struggle can be discerned in the poor sentient beings, our inferiors. Let it be enough for faith that the whole creation groans in mortal frailty, strives with unconquerable constancy: Surely not all in vain.3 [Note: J. A. Hammerton, Stevensoniana, 215.]
(2) We find room for Him when we find room for His little ones.
A few days ago there was performed in the hall of Lincolns Inn, London, a mystery play called Eager Heart. The story is briefly this. Eager Heart is a poor maiden living in a wayside cottage, who has heard that the king is going to pass that way, and that he will take up his quarters for a night somewhere in the neighbourhood. With all diligence she prepares the best room in her cottage for his reception, hoping that she may be the favoured one whom he will honour with a visit. Her two sisters, Eager Fame and Eager Sense, deride her expectations, and assure her that the king would never condescend to enter so humble an abode, and that he will, as a matter of course, seek hospitality with some of the great folk in that part of the country. She, however, has a strong premonition that her hopes are not ill-founded, and goes on with her preparations. When all is ready, a knock is heard at the door, and a poor woman with an infant at her breast begs the charity of a nights lodging. Eager Heart, sad and disappointed, yet feeling that she cannot refuse such a request, gives up to the distressed wayfarers the room which she had prepared for the king; and then goes forth into the night in the hopes of meeting him and at least expressing her goodwill to have entertained him had it been possible. On her way she meets a company of shepherds, who tell her they have seen a vision of angels, who have assured them that the king has already come, and is in the village. And as they return, they are joined by another pilgrim band, of eastern princes, who are making their way, guided by a heavenly light, to pay their homage to their sovereign lord. Needless to say, it is to the cottage of Eager Heart herself that they are guided. The infant is Himself the King, and the homeless woman is the Queen Mother.1 [Note: H. Lucas, At the Parting of the Ways, 79.]
4. The world will find room for Him at last. Has it not found room for Him already? Has He not made room for HimselfHe for whom the inn of Bethlehem had none? Through half the world men remember continually that coming. Amid the trivial associations of each Christmas, amid the kindlier thoughts which are native to the time, there is not wholly lost the sense of Him who in His greatness made these days solemn and sweet and grand, who made their kindlier thoughts become more natural. God, they remember, bowed Himself to become man for mans redemption. And He who dwelt among them in more than common lowliness now fills the thoughts and inspires the hopes of thousands who find through Him surer foothold for life, and through Him can face death.
Little Hettie had a model village, and she never tired of, setting it up.
What kind of a town is that, Hettie? asked her father.
O, a Christian town, Hettie answered, quickly.
Suppose we make it a heathen town, her father suggested.
What must we take out?
The church, said Hettie, taking it to one side.
Is that all?
I suppose so.
No, indeed, her father said. The public school must go. Take the public library out also.
Anything else? Hettie asked, sadly,
Isnt that a hospital over there?
But, father, dont they have hospitals?
Not in heathen countries. It was Christ who taught us to care for the sick and the old.
Then I must take out the Old Ladies Home, said Hettie, very soberly.
Yes, and that Orphans Home at the other end of the town.
Why, father, Hettie exclaimed, then theres not one good thing left! I would not live in such a town for anything.
Does having room for Jesus make so much difference?1 [Note: A. P. Hodgson, Thoughts for the Kings Children, 220.]
III
No Room in our Lives
The difficulty with us to-day is just what it was when Christ trod this earth; and the real reason why He means so little to many of us is that there is no room for Him in our lives.
The only place in which He can make His home to-day is the inn of the soul, the secret rooms of the personal life. We sometimes sing, in one of the most tender and gracious of our hymns, O make our hearts Thy dwelling-place, and that is just what the Lord is willing and waiting to do. O make our hearts Thine inn! But when He moves towards us He finds the inn already thronged.
You may talk as you please about the things that have put you off, as we say, and made you less keen about religion and its claims than you once werethe tendency of the Higher Criticism, or the results of the comparative study of religions, or the New Theology, or the Athanasian Creed, or the futility of our ordinary church-life, or the worldliness of professing Christians, or the divisions of Christendom. All these things have some importance; but you know perfectly well, and it has recently been set before us with extraordinary force and vigour, that if the Lord Jesus Christ were but to appear in the smoking-room one day when religious questions were being discussed so freely, all these things would dwindle into absolute insignificance, and the one vital question for you and for me would be whether we really loved Him enough to take up His cross and live out our lives manfully for His sake. Well, you may not interview Him in the smoking-room, but you can see Him just as clearly as ever you could if you will only give yourself a chance. He is as near as ever He was, as dear as ever He was, and the one question is whether we will give ourselves the chance of seeing Him.1 [Note: Bishop W. E. Collins, Hours of Insight, 117.]
Yea, in the night, my soul, my daughter,
Cry,clinging Heaven by the hems;
And lo! Christ walking on the water
Not of Gennesareth, but Thames.
1. Know ye not that ye are the temple of God? This is the house our Redeemer seeks, the wonderful inn of the soul. Let us go and look inside that inn, for it has many rooms, housing many varied interests, and we may exclude the Lord from them all. Let us walk through a few of the rooms.
(1) There is first of all the room of the mind, the busy realm of the understanding. Try to imagine the multitude of thoughts that throng that room in a single day. From waking moment to the return of sleep they crowd its busy floors. There they are, thoughts innumerable, hurrying, jostling, coming, going! And yet in all the restless, tumultuous assembly, with the floor never empty, the Lord may have no place. God is not in all his thoughts. There is no room in the inn.
One forenoon a stranger entered a publishing establishment in a Russian cityI think in Moscow. He was dressed in very plain, homely garb. He quietly drew a manuscript out of his pocket, and requested that it be published. But the publisher, taking in his homely appearance with a quick glance of his shrewd, practised eye, answered him very curtly, refusing his request He said, Its no use looking at your sketch. I really cannot be bothered. We have hundreds of such things in hand, and have really not time to deal with yours, even though you were in a position to guarantee the costwhich I very much doubt.
The stranger rolled up his manuscript, saying he must have been labouring under some misapprehension, as he had been told that the public liked to read what he wrote.
The public like to read what you write? repeated the publisher, eyeing the rugged figure before him. Who are you? What is your name? The stranger quietly said, My name is Leo Tolstoi, as he buttoned his coat over the rejected manuscript. Instantly the astonished publisher was on the other side of the counter, with most humble apology, begging the privilege of publishing the manuscript. But the famous, eccentric genius quietly withdrew, with the coveted paper in his inner pocket.
There standeth One in your midst whom ye acknowledge not. And He does not tell us who He is, in the manner of the offended Russian Count. He tells us plainly that He is here, looking keenly, listening alertly, noting all. The Christ of the manger is in our midst. Even though not acknowledged perhaps, yet He is not unknown; He is not unrecognized. No one ever yet refused Christ admittance in ignorance of what he was doing, not really knowing whom he was crowding out. He may have failed to realize the seriousness of what he was doing, and the wonder of Him who was knocking; quite likely. But he knew that he was refusing entrance to Him who should be admitted. There is always a quiet, inner messenger making that unmistakably clear.1 [Note: S. D. Gordon, The Crowded Inn, 25.]
(2) And here is another room, the room of personal affection and desire. It is the room where love lives and sings. And it is the room where love droops and sickens and dies. It is the room where impulse is born and where it grows or faints. It is the room where secret longing moves shyly about, and only occasionally shows itself at the window. It is the busy chamber of the emotions. And the Lord yearns to enter this carefully guarded room to make His home in the realm of waking and brooding affection. Is there any room for Him?
That wondrous Christ is standing to-day at some heart-door pleading for entrance. Is it yours? You attend the church service, and give a tacit acknowledgment to the claims of Christianity, and prefer life in a land that owes its prosperity and safety to this pleading One. Yet He is standing outside of the door of your heart. Is he? He is, if He has not been let inside. The talented Holman Hunt, in his famous picture of Christ knocking at the door, reminds us that that door opens only from within. If you have not opened it, it is shut; and He without, knocking! strange!2 [Note: Ibid., 27.]
Strangely the wondrous story doth begin
Of that which came to pass on Christmas Day
The new-born babe within a manger lay
Because there was no room inside the inn.
No room for Him who came to conquer sin
And bid distress and mourning flee away!
So in the stable He was fain to stay
Whilst revelry and riot reigned within.
And still the same old tale is told again:
The world is full of greed and gain and glee,
And has no room for God because of them.
Lord, though my heart be filled with joy and pain,
Grant that it neer may find no room for Thee,
Like that benighted inn at Bethlehem!1 [Note: Ellen Thorneycroft Fowler, Verses, Wise or Otherwise, 196.]
(3) Let us pass into another room in the innthe room of the imagination. It is the radiant chamber of ideals and fancies and visions and dreams. In this room we may find Prospect Window and the Window of Hope. It is here that we look out upon the morrow. And it is here that lifes wishes and plans may be found. The Lord delights to abide in that bright chamber of purpose and dream. Is there any room?
It is a popular impression of Bushnell that he was the subject of his imagination, and that it ran away with him in the treatment of themes which required only severe thought. The impression is a double mistake; theology does not call for severe thought alone, but for the imagination also and the seeing and interpreting eye that usually goes with it. It is not a vagrant and irresponsible faculty, but an inner eye, whose vision is to be trusted like that of the outer; it has in itself the quality of thought, and is not a mere picture-making gift. Bushnell trained his imagination to work on certain definite lines, and for a definite end; namely, to bring out the spiritual meaning hidden within the external form.2 [Note: T. T. Munger, Horace Bushnell, 383.]
(4) Not far from this room there is anotherthe chamber of mirth. It is here that the genius of merriment dwells, and here you may find the sunny presences of wit and humour. Here are quip and jest and jollity. Here is where bridal joy is found, and where the song of the vineyard is born. Will the Master turn into this room or will He avoid it? No; He even longs for a place in the happy crowd! Is there any room for Him in this hall of mirth, or is He crowded out?
I remember that Charles Kingsley used to say, I wonder if there is a family in all England where there is more laughter than there is in mine. And the Lord was an abiding guest at Charles Kingsleys table. Take Him into your conversation. He will come in like sunshine. There are some things that will just disappear at His coming as owls and bats vanish at the dawn. Our conversation will lose its meanness, and its suspicions, and its jealousies, and all uncharitableness. Our Christmas speech will itself be a home of light.1 [Note: J. H. Jowett.]
2. Why is it that we keep Him out of our lives?
(1) We are too much occupied with our ordinary affairs. There are men upon whom work has grown by little and little, so slowly that they hardly realize how; perhaps it has not all been of their own seeking; certainly it has not all been the result of selfish ambition; sometimes it seems to be the result of a tendency which they could hardly resist. Anyhow, there can be no question as to the result of it all; little by little devotion, meditation and prayer seem not so much to have been given up as to have dried up of themselves out of the life. And the worst of it is that the occupations do not seem to have gained in the process. Like Pharaohs lean kine, they have swallowed up everything else, but instead of being better, they are worse; the work is done more mechanically, and less freshly; more severely, but less wholeheartedly.
One feels how natural it was that the small, weary company which crept in footsore by the north gate should have been ignored. They were quite humble people; they did not even belong to the village; they were among the last comers, for they have travelled from the distant north, and Mary in these days is not the swiftest of travellers. The village is crowded, for all have come to be enrolled. The interest is keen, for the matter involves questions of taxation, questions of national independence, questions of a world empire. It is not to be wondered at that none notices the group which creeps in when the sun is nigh setting, and, because the inn is full, finds what poor shelter it can. The world lost the honour of providing a place where its Redeemer might be born, because it was very busy over important things.2 [Note: A. C. Welch.]
An innwhat an appropriate figure of the soul of man as it is by nature! What a multiplicity and what a prodigious variety of thoughts are always coming and going in the soulthe passengers these which throng the inn, and some of whom are so fugitive that they do not even take up their abode there for the night! And what distraction, discomposure, and noise do these outgoing and incoming thoughts produce, so that perhaps scarcely ever in the day is our mind collected and calm, except just for the few moments spent in private prayer before we lie down and when we risethe hurry and confusion this, produced by the constant arrivals at, and departures from, an inn.1 [Note: E. M. Goulburn, The Pursuit of Holiness, 281.]
(2) Our life is sometimes already filled with the thronging multitude of our cares. We can be so full of care as to be quite careless about Him. We can have so much to worry about that we have no time to think about Christ. The cares of this world choke the word, and the Speaker of the word is forgotten. Yes, we may entertain so many cares that the Lord cannot get in at the door. And yet all the time the gracious promise is waiting: Cast all your care on Him, for He careth for you.
And what, then, is the cure for worry? Can you ask? If you will but make room for Him in your heart and keep Him there, your worry will vanish, even as in the Pilgrims Progress Christians load fell off when he lifted his eyes to the Cross of Christ. With Him there to share every thought, you will find that many of the difficulties will smooth themselves out forthwith; and as you learn to leave in His hands the things which are His business, not yours, so will all worry become by His grace a thing of the past.
Doubtless your cross was chosen for you by our Lord and Master just for its weight. To me there is always a wonderful beauty and consolation in the fact, so simply told in the narrative of the Passion, that His cross proved too heavy for Him. He has never since that hour suffered any one of His own to bear a cross unaided, nor yet too heavy.2 [Note: Archbishop Magee, in Life by J. C. Macdonnell, i. 268.]
(3) Our pleasures keep Christ out of our lives. A merely sensational life can make us numb to all that is spiritual; and the unseen world becomes non-existent to our souls. That is an awful law of life. We may so dwell in the pleasures of the senses that all the deeper things are as though they were dead, and buried in forgotten graves.
One would certainly think that the Lord of glory could not be crowded out of a wedding, that solemn and sacred experience in human life. But He can! Of course we may mention His name, but the naming is too often only a conventional courtesy, while the Lord Himself is relegated to the yard. We may be engrossed with the sensations of the event, with the glittering externals, with the dresses and the orange-blossoms, while the holy Christ, upon whom the lasting joy and peace and blessedness of the wedded pair will utterly depend, is absolutely forgotten.
(4) And again, there are those who have no room for Him because of their sin: and this is the most real and all-pervading obstacle of all. A sinful habit, using the word in its largest sense, of pride or envy, covetousness or gluttony, and not only of particular sinful acts, is by far the worst obstacle to keep the Saviour out, and that because it at once deadens and deceives us. Far be it from me, for instance, to deny that doubts are sometimes purely intellectual; but I say deliberately that I have rarely talked with a man, or a woman either, about religious doubts without finding, when they come to speak quite freely, that the difficulty was, in part at any rate, a moral one. When I look into my own heart, I see the same thing; my own doubts have been based on moral difficulties far more largely than I was willing to admit to myself at the time, or even than I knew at the time; and I believe that most of us would have to make the same confession.1 [Note: W. E. Collins, Hours of Insight, 121.]
Christs crowding-out power is tremendous. That explains why He is so crowded out. When allowed freely in He crowds everything out that would crowd Him out. He crowds out sin. By the blood drawn from His own side He washes it out. By the soft-burning but intense fire of His heart He burns it out. By the purity of His own wondrous presence, recognized as Lord, He reveals its horrid ugliness, and compels us, by the holy compulsion of love, to keep it out.2 [Note: S. D. Gordon, The Crowded Inn, 58.]
There fared a mother driven forth
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was homeless
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
With shaking timber and shifting sand,
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
Than the square stones of Rome.
For men are homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay their heads in a foreign land
Whenever the day is done.
Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honour and high surprise,
But our homes are under miraculous skies
Where the Yule tale was begun.
A Child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam,
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home:
We have hands that fashion and heads that know,
But our hearts we losthow long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
Under the skys dome.
This world is wild as an old wives tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.
To an open house in the evening
Home shall all men come,
To an older place than the Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.1 [Note: G. K. Chesterton, The House of Christmas.]
No Room
Literature
Askew (E. A.), The Service of Perfect Freedom, 37.
Bourdillon (F.), Short Sermons, 139.
Brooke (S. A.), The Early Life of Jesus, 12.
Bushnell (H.), Christ and His Salvation, 1.
Butler (W. A.), Sermons Doctrinal and Practical, 254.
Carter (T. T.), Meditations on the Hidden Life of our Lord, i. 39.
Clayton (J. W.), The Genius of God, 136.
Collins (W. E.), Hours of Insight, 112.
Goulburn (E. M.), The Pursuit of Holiness, 279.
Gregory (J. R.), Scripture Truths made Simple, 53.
Hart (H. M.), A Preachers Legacy, 1.
Hiley (R. W.), A Years Sermons, ii. 360.
Hodgson (A. P.), Thoughts for the Kings Children, 215.
Jordan (W. G.), The Crown of Individuality, 24.
Keble (J.), Sermons for the Christian Year; Christmas and Epiphany, 97.
Low (G. D.), The New Heart, 67.
Lucas (H.), At the Parting of the Ways, 79.
Nicoll (W. R.), Sunday Evening, 401.
Norton (J. N.), Old Paths, 54.
Oosterzee (J. J. van), The Year of Salvation, i. 62.
Paget (F. E.), Plain Village Sermons, i. 30.
Spurgeon (C. H.), Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, viii. (1862), No. 485.
British Congregationalist, Dec. 5, 1912 (J. H. Jowett).
Christian World Pulpit, lxxiv. 412 (J. E. Rankin).
Church Pulpit Year Book, 1905, p. 315.
Churchmans Pulpit: Christmas Day, ii. 103 (C. P. Eden); First Sunday after Christmas, iii. 76 (J. W. Burgon).
Clerical Library: Outlines for Special Occasions, 16 (J. G. Rogers).
Homiletic Review, xlviii. 454 (J. E. Rankin); lxiv. 478 (A. C. Welch).
Literary Churchman, xxviii. (1882) 516 (E. C. Lefroy); xxxiii. (1887) 530 (J. B. C. Murphy); xxxiv. (1888) 529 (H. J. Wilmot-Buxton).
Methodist Times, Dec. 21, 1908 (P. C. Ainsworth).
Fuente: The Great Texts of the Bible
she: Isa 7:14, Mat 1:25, Gal 4:4
and wrapped: Luk 2:11, Luk 2:12, Psa 22:6, Isa 53:2, Isa 53:3, Mat 8:20, Mat 13:55, Joh 1:14, 2Co 8:9
the inn: Luk 10:34, Gen 42:27, Gen 43:21, Exo 4:24
Reciprocal: Eze 16:4 – nor Mat 1:16 – of whom Luk 1:57 – General Luk 2:16 – found Joh 4:6 – sat 1Ti 2:15 – she
Fuente: The Treasury of Scripture Knowledge
NO ROOM!
There was no room for them in the inn.
Luk 2:7
We repeat the words, and wonder whether they have meaning for us to-day. Think for a moment. In this world of society in which we find ourselves, is not the Christmas tragedy repeated? There is no room for Christ.
I. No room in the money market.Let us seek out the great exchanges. Room enough and to spare for smart bargaining in futures, for the gamblers in rotten stocks; room for the hard, keen fighters for bulls and bears and rings; but for Him Who came to prove that love was the true riches and hard work most blessed wealth, for Him Who came to give, not get, and to live and die, as we should say, not worth a penny, where was there room?
II. No room in the homes of luxury.Or go to the homes of the great and fashionable, where misery lies in the fact that they find all their luxury and all their wealth gives no rest unto their souls. What room at the splendid feast or the scented rout is there for Him Who said, How hardly shall they that trust in riches enter the kingdom of heaven, and Whose meat, the last time men saw Him break His fast, was a little broiled fish and a piece of bread and a bit of honeycomb?
III. No room in industrial centres.Go now away to the great manufacturing centres; enter into the offices and see, here, a secret commission being bargained for; there, some little arrangement by which the textile fabric made will look like something it is not, and sell at a certain price as the real article which no one could produce at the price. Or enter the sweaters den, and find at what price of blood the fine ladies of the land are content to be dressed in beaded lace and embroideries, at what price of weariness of finger, and almost foodlessness, the shirt-maker will supply the well-fed gentleman with his fine linen and bravery of show in cuff and collar.
IV. No room in the worldly life.Or leave the great industrial centres in their hours of work, and go off to the theatre, or to the race-ground, to the rabbit-coursing field, to the football field, to the music-hall, to the liquor saloon. Are we conscious that the air is pure and right and fit for the breathing by those who would follow the Son of Man and be made like unto Him in all things? Is there room for this Saviour Jesus in the play where death is mocked at and conventional morality is made a laughing-stock; at the race-course or the football field where sport is forgotten in the craze for risking a little money on the event; in the rabbit-coursing field where for a drink or the chance of a shilling or two by way of a bet, harmless dumb creatures are torn limb from limb; in the liquor saloon, where, though a wife or a daughter comes with tears to beg the liquor-seller not to supply it to the alcohol-mad father or husband, a relentless and remorseless hand will complete the ruin and degradation it lives by? What room for Christ there?
Christ comes, and He finds there is no room for Him in worlds of restlessness and selfishness that most need His presence.
Yet still in humble hearts of simple and sincere people, who look to heaven as their home, and to Christ as the Truth, the Life, and the Way that leadeth unto the Father; still in such hearts, as in the hearts of the little children who delight to think of that first Christmas morning, there is a welcome and there is room.
Rev. Canon H. D. Rawnsley.
Illustrations
(1) When caravans of traders and of pilgrims became more common, khans were built for their reception, and it was doubtless the sense of the duty of providing for the traveller that prompted their erection, as an act of public benevolence. These khans usually offered merely the protection of their walls, and the shelter of the unfurnished chambers to the traveller, who was obliged to bring with him all he would want, to attend to his own beast, and to prepare his food with his own hand. Inns of this description are still in use in Syria, and consist of an oblong courtyard surrounded by buildings; the entrance is by a spacious vaulted archway, with heavy gates, closed and barred by night. The buildings contain a number of arched recesses, open in front towards the courtyard. The floors are raised about three feet above the level of the court, and in the wall at the back of each recess is a door, giving access to a chamber, where the traveller can sleep. Behind the chambers run ranges of stabling for the beasts. In the centre of each of the three sides is a large vaulted hall, where the travellers can meet together, and through these halls the stables at the back are reached. Stairways lead up to the flat roofs at the angles of the court, and during the hot season the roofs are used as sleeping-places. There is usually a well of water in the middle of the court, and sometimes a stone chamber built over it. Such was probably the Inn of Bethlehem. It is thought by many that from very early times an inn had stood upon this spot, and that the habitation of Chimham, which is by Bethlehem, mentioned in Jer 41:17, stood on the same site.
(2) But if Chimhams inn was ten times as great as it was, it could not hold any but the first comers. Soon all the courtyard is packed with the beasts of burden. Soon all the raised colonnade round the court is filled with families and their household stuff. But if we had been there when now the eventide was drawing on, and the flame of the fires in the caravanserai was beginning to brighten, we should have seen a man who claimed to be of the house and lineage of David, lead up and help tenderly to dismount a young girl, his espoused wife, being great with child. They have journeyed leisurely to avoid over-fatiguethey must pay the penalty. There is no room for them in the inn. The last possible corner of space was filled three hours ago. The man pleads in earnest. He is of the royal family of David. He has come all the way from Nazareth; his wife is great with child; and I can well believe that there was that about the Virgins anxious face which went home to the guard of the khan gate, and he bethinks him of the stable at the back, there in the great limestone cave, where the keeper of the caravanserai has bestowed his own house-folk, and his own beasts of burden, and his own oxen for the night. Thither does he lead them, and glad enough of such chance of rest are the weary travellers. On one day in the week of their sojourn the Lord was born.
(SECOND OUTLINE)
CROWDED OUT
In too many cases there is still no room for Him Who was crowded out from the inn at Bethlehem.
I. From some homes.The house rings with laughter and boisterous revelry, but the name of Christ is never once mentioned. Christ would be an unwelcome guest in that home. There is no room for Him. Again, the pleasures may be all perfectly innocentbut it is purely selfish enjoyment. There is no room for Him in the hearts which are troubled only about making things enjoyable and nothing more.
II. From some hearts.The Lord comes and seeks shelter in an inn. What a fertility of thought, sentiment, impression, feeling, says Dean Gulburn, is there in the heart of a single man! It is like an inn or hostelrythere are every instant fresh arrivals and fresh departures. There are a thousand doors of access to the heartconversation, books, incidents, means of grace, all the five senses; and passengers are busily thronging in and passing out at every door. And hither Christ comes every day in the year. How is it with you? Jesus is here, ready to come in and take up His abode in your heart. Is there room for Him? He comes, a gracious, willing Guest, but never to thrust Himself on an unwilling host. He is here to-day just as really, just as truly, as He was in the stable of Bethlehem. Have you room for Him? or is that busy inn of your heart so full of worldly, anxious, unbelieving, covetous, impure thoughts, that by this motley throng Christ is actually crowded out!
Oh, make room! Perhaps you will have to give up a great dealperhaps you will have to sacrifice everythingbefore there will be room for Him. Well, sacrifice everything. You will never repent it. He will repay you a thousandfold. He will adorn and beautify your life, and make it all glorious within with His own sweet Presence, even as He filled with glory the unclean manger in which he lay.
Rev. J. B. C. Murphy.
Fuente: Church Pulpit Commentary
The Infant Christ-A Christmas Sermon
Luk 2:7-18
INTRODUCTORY WORDS
In a manger, on the hay,
There, incarnate God, once lay:
From the Father’s throne He came
To a world all sunk in shame;
Came a Babe, of virgin born,
Came from Heaven, of glory shorn,
Came with swaddling clothes wrapped round,
Came with limitations bound.
In a manger, on the hay,
There, Immanuel once lay;
“God with us,” on earth He trod
Fashioned man, yet very God;
“God with us,” a Babe, He came
To declare the Father’s Name;
“God with us,” from realms above
Came to show the Father’s love.
In a manger, on the hay,
With the cattle, Jesus lay;
Not as monarch, with a crown,
Not as wizard, with renown;
Nay, He came the Holy One.
Came the meek and lowly One,
Came that shepherds might abide
Unembarrassed at His side.
In a manger, on the hay,
Christ, the Saviour, sweetly lay;
He took flesh and blood to die
That the sinner might draw nigh;
Came to open wide the door,
Came the wand’rer to restore;
Came, that all might enter in,
Blood-washed, saved from ev’ry sin.
In a manger, on the hay.
Christ, the “Jewish Sign” once lay;
To a nation all forlorn,
Trodden down, all rent and torn
Came a Babe, to certify,
Virgin born, to verify
That God’s nation was secure,
Israel shall e’er endure.
In a manger, on the hay,
Babe, yet “destined King,” He lay;
Wise men, guided by a star,
Came from other lands afar,
Worshiped Him, “King of the Jews,”
While His own refused the news;
Yet, He’ll surely come again,
Come as King of kings, to reign.
I. GOD WITH US (Isa 7:14 with Mat 1:23)
How striking are the words, “And she brought forth her firstborn Son * * and laid Him in a manger”!
He was Son of a virgin, and yet, withal, He was the Son of God. This is the message of the whole Bible: “Great is the mystery * * God was manifest in the flesh.” The Prophet of old had written, “Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a Son, and shall call His Name Immanuel.” Christ was indeed Son of God, and God the Son. He was “God with us.”
Jesus Christ was, according to the flesh, of the seed of David, a son of Abraham, made of a woman, made under the Law. Jesus Christ was, according to the Spirit, “the True God, and eternal life.”
Jesus Christ was begotten of the Holy Ghost. Mary knew that, according to nature, she could not bring forth a son; therefore, she said to the angel, Gabriel, “How can this be, seeing I know not a man?”
The angel quickly replied, “The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee: therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.”
No other child in the history of the world was ever conceived as this Child was conceived. He received His body, made of a woman; yet He was born, Son of God. It is no marvel, then, that His Name was called “Wonderful, Counsellor, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.”
Christ truly could say, “Ye are from beneath; I am from above: ye are of this world; I am not of this world.”
Christ was God in the ages past; therefore, in the flesh, He was God made manifest, God incarnate. He knew from whence He came, for He said, “I came forth from the Father, and am come into the world.” He came to show us the Father, to declare Him, to interpret Him; therefore, He could say, “He that hath seen Me hath seen the Father.”
From God up above, from Heaven in love,
The Lord of all glory came down;
He was God, yet an infant in weakness He lay,
He was God, but was God on a cradle of hay;
He wore neither signet nor crown.
II. WRAPPED IN SWADDLING CLOTHES (Luk 2:6-7)
It is difficult for us to fathom the mystery of God made flesh: but it is more difficult for us to think of God as swaddled, bound, and hemmed in.
He who created man, became man; that is, the Creator became the creature.
He who gave to man “richly all things to enjoy” became man, with nowhere to lay His head; that is, He, by whom and for whom are all things, became poor, that we “through His poverty might be rich.”
He who was Lord of all became servant of all. The disciples worshiped Him, yet He girded Himself and washed their feet.
He it was before whom the seraphims continually cried, “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of Hosts”; and yet, it was He who, “being found in fashion as a man, * * humbled Himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the Cross.”
As a babe, as a youth, and as a man fulfilling His ministry, He was always God, yet He was always straitened.
He said with His own lips, “I have a baptism to be baptized with; and how am I straitened till it be accomplished.”
Christ was Life and the Giver of life, and yet He tasted the cup of death for every man.
Christ was the Author of peace. He said, “My peace I give unto you,” and yet, three times we read that He was troubled.
He who was the “Good Shepherd” and the “Great Shepherd” and the “Chief Shepherd” became, for our sakes, the “lamb,” voluntarily led to the slaughter, and the “sheep,” who before His shearers stood dumb.
He was the Glory of the Father, and yet His face was covered with shame and spitting.
He was the destined King of kings and Lord of lords, and yet He was crowned with thorns, and He died with transgressors, His kingship defamed.
Surely the “swaddling clothes” that wrapped the Babe bore a prophecy of deepest meaning.
They wrapped Him around, with swaddling clothes bound-
A ship that was tied to its pier;
He was God, but was straitened, circumscribed, yea,
He was God, but was God on a cradle of hay,
While sorrows were hovering near.
III. NO ROOM IN THE INN (Luk 2:7, l.c.)
The story of Christ’s birth is a prophecy of His life.
At His birth, there was “no room for them in the inn.” We pass down through thirty years. Was there room for Him in Nazareth? room in His Father’s House? room upon the earth? Although the Nazarites at first marveled at the gracious words that proceeded out of His mouth, they soon led Him to the brow of the hill on which the city was built, intending to cast Him down. There was no room for Him in Nazareth.
He entered the Temple to drive out the money changers and the sellers of doves. He said, “My House shall be called the House of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves.” There was no room for Him in His Father’s House.
Among men, He soon became the “despised and rejected.” He moved among the populace, doing good. He fed the hungry, healed the sick, cast out demons, raised the dead. It was not long, however, until the surging crowds learned to cry out against Him, saying, “Let Him be crucified.” There was no room for Him on the earth.
In His birth, Herod had sought to slay Him. Then were fulfilled the words of the Prophet, “In Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted, because they are not.”
The massacre of the innocents proved to be a prophecy of the close of His days, for as He neared the end of His ministry, once more “they went about to slay Him.”
The crucifixion was the climax of the same spirit which marked Christ’s reception at His birth. Only, with the years, the people’s hatred intensified. They compassed the Cross as dogs; they gaped upon Him as ravening and roaring lions; they wagged the head; they laughed Him to scorn; they shot out the lip against Him.
Amid the gaiety of modern Christmas festivities, the world has no room for the Lord Jesus “in the inn.”
With cattle He slept, while vigil was kept
By angels who hovered about:
He was God, yet was God from whom men turned away,
He was God, but was God on a cradle of hay,
Men gave Him no welcome, no shout.
IV. WORSHIPED: KING OF THE JEWS (Mat 2:11)
Could anything be more striking than the story of the wise men journeying from afar, with gifts of frankincense and myrrh, to worship the holy Babe as King of the Jews?
In His birth, He was worshiped as “King of the Jews.” In His death, He was crucified as “King of the Jews.” In His Second Advent, He will be heralded as “King of kings.”
All of this is in line with the words of the angel, Gabriel, who said unto the virgin Mary, “Thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a Son * * and the Lord God will give unto Him the throne of His father David: and He shall reign over the House of Jacob for ever; and of His Kingdom there shall be no end.”
Let Christians who rejoice in His birth, also rejoice in the destined Kingship of Christ. The Prophet said, “The zeal of the Lord of Hosts will perform this.”
The Children of Israel are still wandering over the face of the earth without a King. Let them, nevertheless, rejoice on this Christmas Day. Let this day bring back to their memory the sure sign which God gave to Ahaz, that Rezin and Pekah could not make a breach against Judah, and set a king in the midst of Jerusalem. God said of their attempt: “It shall not stand, neither shall it come to pass.” For this cause, God gave to Ahaz the sign of Judah’s security and of the security of Judah’s throne. That “sign” was God’s promise and pledge to Judah: “Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a Son, and shall call His Name Immanuel.”
When Christ was born in Bethlehem of Judea, God’s promise to Ahaz was established. During the twenty centuries which have followed, Israel has remained forsaken of both of her kings. She has, however, been kept by God’s election, awaiting the day when God’s Son shall return as Israel’s Messiah, to sit upon David’s throne.
The Babe of Bethlehem still lives, and the “sign” of God still stands. God has given to all mankind His unchangeable oath that He will judge the inhabited earth in righteousness by that Man whom He hath ordained, even by our Lord Jesus Christ. This oath, which was set forth by the “sign” of the conception of the virgin and the birth of Immanuel, was afterward certified and made sure by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.
What hallowed and what happy anticipations, therefore, should be ours on this particular Christmas Day! We are living in the midst of a world rent and torn; we are dwelling in the close of an age which finds the hearts of men filled with strange forebodings of the things which are about to come to pass.
He who was born King of the Jews may come soon to take His throne. Come He must, and come He will. His throne shall be established in Truth and righteousness.
The wise men drew near, with gifts and with cheer,
They worshiped Him-King of the Jews;
He was God, who is destined to reign one glad day,
He was God, though He lay on a cradle of hay,
Let Christians receive the good news.
V. THE PRESENT GLORY OF THE CHRIST
The Babe of the manger, who was announced as the Son of God, is now heralded as the Son of the Father’s right hand.
As we think, therefore, of the birth of Christ, let us permit our minds to pass on to His life, and then on to His death. But we dare not leave Him crucified and buried. We must follow the Babe of Bethlehem past the empty tomb. We need, on this Christmas Day, to stand with the disciples at the Mount of Olives. We need to see the Lord ascending through the Heavens. We need to hear the cry of the angels, a mighty host, saying, “Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of Glory shall come in.”
We need to behold our Christ seated at the Father’s right hand-a Prince and a Saviour. We need to see Him clothed with authority and power, with principalities and the rulers of this world under His feet. We need to see Him coming in the clouds of Heaven, in power and great glory. We need to see Him reigning on David’s throne.
How else can we, with the wise men, rightly worship the Babe of Bethlehem?
If we do not recognize in that Babe all the glory which His life and death and resurrection and ascension and Second Coming and eternity give to Him, how can we bring an adoration, on this Christmas Day, which is acceptable unto God?
“Let saints shout and sing,
Their glad anthems ring;
Praise God on this good Christmas tide;
He is God, now exalted with power and sway,
He is God, but not now on a cradle of hay,
Let all in His glory abide.”
AN ILLUSTRATION
“Let us, on this Christmas Day, take a long look through faith’s telescope. This may be our last Christmas on earth. We may not be here another year. Do not think for a moment that we are expecting to die. We have made no arrangements for such an event. God never told His people to look for death; it may overtake some of us. Bat if it does, we know the sting is removed. We can look out into the future from this Christmas Day with a glorious prospect. There is a possibility, if not a great probability, that we shall spend next Christmas with our Lord Jesus Christ in the Glory. Oh, what a prospect! To be like Him whom we have long loved, when dimly seen from afar! To be with Him and to be like Him! What an inspiration this is to a better service while we wait! What an inspiration for a happier life, and for a more Christlike walk!
Oh, Saviour mine, by birth Divine!
Upon this natal day of Thine
Dwell with our stress of happiness.
Count not our reverence the less,
Because with glee and jubilee
Our hearts go singing up to Thee.”
-Dr. W. W. White
“Unto you is born this day a Saviour”
Which is Jesus Christ the wondrous Lord;
Not a “teacher,” not a “good example,”
But the Son of God, the Living Word.
No “philosopher,” his fancies weaving,
Warp of dreams and woof of visions vast,
Not a “prophet,” peering down the future,
Not a “scholar,” delving in the past.
“Unto you is born this day a Saviour”;
Shine, O star! and shout, O angel voice!
Unto you this precious gift is given;
Sing, O earth! and all ye Heavens, rejoice!
Long the world has waited such a Saviour,
Sunk in sin and torn by fear and doubt;
Long in darkness groped for truth and wisdom;
Glory, glory, now the light shines out!
“Unto you is born this day a Saviour,”
Earth’s one hope, the Life, the Truth, the Way;
Mighty God and glorious Redeemer,
Jesus Christ the Lord is born today.
-Annie Johnson Flint,
Fuente: Neighbour’s Wells of Living Water
7
Laid him in a manger. The birth had taken place elsewhere on a birthstool, a seat so constructed that the mother could be seated while giving birth; this is what is meant by the “stools” in Exo 1:16. When Rachel proposed to let her maid “bear upon her knees” (Gen 30:3), she meant that her knees could be used instead of the birthstool. After Jesus was orn, the mother found no suitable place for him as a crib, hence she put him in a manger. The lodging places in that country were combinations of bedrooms for people and stalls for their beasts of service, just as some hotels are provided with garage space for the automobiles. The word “inn” should be rendered “guestcham-ber” (the same word is so rendered in chapter 22:11), where the guests would be gathered usually as they do in the lobby or waiting rooms in hotels. It was a time of large crowds on account of the decree of Caesar calling for all the people to come to the proper headquarters for registration. So the words no room for them in the inn have no reference to the attitude of the public towards these “humble, poor people,” as a popular but .erroneous statement of sentimentality represents.
Fuente: Combined Bible Commentary
And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.
[There was no room for them in the inn.] From hence it appears, that neither Joseph nor his father Jacob had any house of their own here, no, nor Eli neither, wherein to entertain his daughter Mary ready to lie in. And yet we find that two years after the birth of Christ, Joseph and Mary his wife lived in a hired house till they fled into Egypt.
“A certain Arabian said to a certain Jew, ‘The Redeemer of the Jews is born.’ Saith the Jew to him, ‘What is his name?’ ‘Menahem,’ saith the other. ‘And what the name of his father?’ ‘Hezekiah.’ ‘But where dwell they?’ ‘In Birath Arba in Bethlehem Judah.’ ” He shall deserve many thanks that will but tell us what this Birath Arba is. The Gloss tells us no other than that this “Birath Arba was a place in Bethlehem”; which any one knows from the words themselves. But what, or what kind of place was it? Birah indeed is a palace or castle; but what should Arba be? A man had better hold his tongue than conjecture vainly and to no purpose…
Fuente: Lightfoot Commentary Gospels
Luk 2:7. Her first born son. This implies that Mary had other children (in Mat 1:25 the reading is in dispute). It is unlikely that an only child would be thus termed by one who wrote long afterwards with a full knowledge of the family. See on Mat 13:55Luke says nothing to justify the legends of a birth without pain, and the many other fancies which have been added to the story.
And wrapped him in swaddling-clothes, or bands, About this there is nothing unusual except the activity of the mother.
In a manger. Our Lord was born in a stable. This was purposed by God, however accidental the choice on the part of Joseph and Mary. His self-abasement is thus illustrated, the nature of His kingdom suggested, the lesson of humility enforced.Tradition says this stable was a cave, and this might be the case, since in rocky countries caves are used for stables. One ancient writer finds in this a fulfilment of the prophecy (Isa 33:16): His place of defence shall be the munitions of rocks. The place cannot be now identified. It is unlikely that the cave belonged to the shepherds afterwards spoken of; Luk 2:15 suggests that Bethlehem was not their home.
Became there was no room for them in the inn, or, caravanserai. Not an inn, with a host, as in chap. Luk 10:34-35, but a place where travellers lodged, providing their own food. There is no hint of want of hospitality. The town was full, the inn was full; failing to obtain a place there, they found the much needed shelter in a stable,not necessarily however that of the inn, which would be less retired than others. The fact that changed the world was accomplished in a stable; but the worlds emperor must send forth a universal decree that this humble birth might be in accordance with prophecy; for He who lay in the manger there was King of kings. The enrolment is in one aspect a sign of subjection, in another of superiority.
Fuente: A Popular Commentary on the New Testament
Verse 7
All the arrangements of the ancients, in respect to travelling, were so totally different from ours, that we can now form but a very imperfect idea of the precise situation of Mary and the infant, from the words used to describe it in the text. All the circumstances of their history conspire to show that, though in humble life, they were by no means in very poor and destitute circumstances, as is sometimes supposed.