Would You Let Them In?

Matthew 2:1-20

Our Gospel lesson tells us the story of a man and a woman who were making a long journey from a town up north to a town in the south. They had had to walk most of the way. They probably only had only a few coins in their pockets; certainly not enough money to pay for an expensive room in an inn. And, to make matters worse, the woman was going to give birth to a baby. Although they had a home back in the town up north, they were homeless and out on the street. So they had to find shelter in a stable full of sheep and cattle.

I was reading in Time Magazine a few weeks ago about a phenomenon that seems to be sweeping the country. It seems that our attitudes towards the homeless are changing. Whereas just a year or two ago it was fairly popular to raise money for the homeless, now more and more Americans are becoming hardened against the plight of these people. The myth is being spread around that those who are homeless are that way simply because they are a bunch of deadbeats who refuse to work and just want a handout. Somehow the word is spreading that the persons who are wandering the streets of our cities, the men, the women, even the children should be forced to settle down and get a job by the shear threat of starvation and freezing to death.

Never mind the fact that probably more than 80% of those who are homeless are mentally ill and probably couldn't hold down a job if they wanted to. Never mind the fact that little children who are homeless may have no other choice than to suffer with their parents. Never mind the fact that once you are homeless and destitute and depressed and confused it is extremely difficult to get back on your feet again. Just ask anyone who works with the homeless and they'll tell you that no one really wants to be homeless and broke. Everyone would like to be warm and clean and fed and clothed and free from fear and hopelessness; and yet, according to Time Magazine, more and more Americans are turning their backs upon those who are in the greatest need. I wonder why.

The people of that southern town of Bethlehem wouldn't let Mary and Joseph into their inn in their time of need, probably for some of the same reasons many Americans have turned their backs upon the homeless in our own country.

Several years ago I was in my office at a church I was serving in Iowa when a man and a woman knocked on my door. The man, who appeared to be about 60 years old, looked very tired and sick. They explained that they and their two children had been travelling from Wisconsin to Texas in order to find work when the man had suddenly began to feel chest pains. They had stopped at my church, wondering if there was any chance that I might be able to find a place for them to stay for a few days while the man got some rest. They explained that they didn't have any money or insurance. I asked them if there was anyone who I could call for them, like a relative or a friend who might be able to help them. But they couldn't think of anyone.

Immediately, several thoughts started to go through my mind. First, I had to wonder why in the world these people would have left Wisconsin for Texas without enough money to make the trip. Were they expecting the churches along the way to pay for everything they needed for their journey? Had they left Wisconsin because social services wouldn't give them what they wanted? Were they simply a group of modern gypsies who made their living doing this kind of thing? Would I really be doing anyone a favor by helping them? Would my help really be help, or would I only be unwittingly involved in perpetuating an undesirable lifestyle?

These thoughts were going through my mind as I picked up the phone to call my friend, a member of my church, Doc Thompson, the town doctor. Without hesitating the doctor told me to get the man over to his office immediately. I got the man to the office, which was only a few doors away from the church where Doc Thompson listened to his heart and did a quick EEG on the man. After talking with him for a few minutes, the Doc decided that the man was suffering from angina and not a heart attack, but probably could use some rest. He reached into a drawer, pulled out some sample angina medication, wrote a prescription for the medicine and told the man how to take them. Then he turned to me and said, "Let's put 'em up in the motel for a couple of days." Then he called the motel down the street, got the manager to knock the price down to ten dollars a night, and told him to send the bill to his office. And between the church, the doctor, and the hotel manager we took care of that family and fed them for three days. And, come to think about it, the manager never did send a bill.

A few days later Doc and I talked about the family. I asked him if he thought the family might have been a bunch of deadbeats who simply went along day by day, town by town, church by church getting their food and housing this way. But, I remember the Doc's answer: "Yeah, they might have been. But, then, who knows? And who are we to make such a decision?" As a preacher and as a doctor in a small Iowa town miles away from social services, at least an hour's drive from the nearest Salvation Army shelter, we had no other choice, no other option, than to help that family in need.

So, what about Mary and Joseph on that chilly winter night in Bethlehem? There wasn't room in the inn for a woman in labor. There wasn't a person inside who was willing to join those on the outside for the sake of another. And I'm sure they had their reasons. Maybe they looked out at Joseph and Mary and called them fools for making such a trip without preparing for such a need. Maybe they figured that anyone who would get into such a fix deserved it!

This evening we started the worship service with some of us on the inside and some of us on the outside. The only reason some of us got to be on the inside and some of us had to be on the outside was because of something as trivial as the first letter of our name. I know that it didn't seem fair to those who were made to stand out foyer that something as chancy and meaningless as a letter of the alphabet should have been given such power. It's interesting, though, when you think about it, that where each of us are in this world -- financially, educationally, etc. -- is based to a large part on such trivial and chancy things. None of us, for instance, chose to be born in America in a setting that would provide the opportunities we got in life. It was either by the grace of God or by dumb luck that most of us got the head start we did. And by the same note, this is also true for those of this world who stand on the fringes of life, whether in a food line down on Cass Avenue in Detroit, or lying in the dirt of Somalia, or starving for a few grains of rice in Calcutta. Those who have their room in the inn of Bethlehem aren't really any different from those who are standing outside in the streets. Those of us who have our tables full on Christmas day aren't really much different from that Somalian mother in the picture of Time Magazine holding her starving baby. Those of us who have our health insurance aren't much different than those who can't afford to take their kids to a doctor. Those of us who have our houses and pensions and jobs and degrees and salaries and standards of living aren't so much different from that guy that 50 of our members will be feeding at Detroit's Cass Avenue Church tomorrow.

At Christmas it is important for us to remember that as Jesus came as a babe born in a manger, he came as one who would identify with those on the outside, on the fringes of life. How often have we considered that when we who are on the inside, minister and love those on the outside, we minister unto Christ? Isn't that an important message of Christmas? Isn't that why Christmas is good news?

I'm reminded of this poem by Fred Jarvis:

Suppose it were your birthday

And all your friends would come

And gather round your fireplace

There in your happy home.

They come with smiles and gladness,

And bring their presents, too.

But when they start to share them,

There's not a one for you.

They give them to each other,

A grand and costly lot.

But for the guest of honor,

They somehow just forgot.

You say such things don't happen,

Nor should it ever be;

It seems too crude and cruel,

For folks like you and me.

But friend, have you considered

Just this is what men do?

Not, of course, to humans,

But of our Lord, its true.

We celebrate His birthday

With all our pomp and style;

But give to one another

And grieve Him all the while.

'Tis Christ we claim to honor

At this glad Christmastime;

Don't spend on friends the dollars

And give Him just a dime.

To give to one another

Indeed is very nice;

But best of all to Jesus,

For Him let's sacrifice.

His cause too long has suffered

by thoughless, selfish men.

Let's bring to Christ the firstfruits,

And give our best to Him.

Amen.