“It’s
the most wonderful time of the year!”
“I’ll
be home for Christmas…if only in my dreams"
No two Christmas songs could be more different in terms of feeling
and lyrics. Yet, their differences serve as reminder that while Christmas for
some is filled with glee, for others it can be filled with gloom. For this
latter group of individuals, I believe there is great comfort to be taken from
some of the most famous words of the Christmas story: “there was no room for them in the inn.”[1]
We all know how the account of the first Christmas begins—not
in the little town of Bethlehem, but in the little town of Nazareth, when an
angel appeared to the Virgin Mary and proclaimed that she would be the mother
of the Son of God. To calm Joseph's fears of being espoused to a woman who bore
a child that was not his own, an angel eventually appeared to him in a dream to
announce the glad tidings of Christ's birth.
However, while residing in Nazareth, Mary and Joseph were
required to make a journey to Bethlehem to be taxed, or rather, surveyed so
that Caesar Augustus, the powerful Roman Emperor, could levy taxes on his
Jewish subjects. As was the custom, the Jewish people were to return to the city
of their lineage for the survey, which for Joseph, was Bethlehem.
Inconvenienced to be sure, Mary and Joseph nevertheless set
off for Bethlehem where they would to need to find not only lodging, but also a
suitable place where Mary could deliver her little baby. Yet, when they
arrived in Bethlehem, we read from the record that rather than finding
comfortable and suitable living quarters, "there was no room for them in
the inn."
There has been speculation over the years as to why Joseph
and Mary experienced such a cold reception in Bethelehem. Elder James E. Talmage, for
example, argued in his book Jesus the
Christ that while Joseph and Mary “failed to find the most desirable
accommodations,” it was not entirely unusual for folks to find lodging in a stable
in a time and place where there were no Holiday Inns dotting the highways.[2]
However, when serving as the Dean of Religious Education at BYU, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland wondered "if Luke did not have some special
meaning when he wrote not 'there was no room in the inn’ but
specifically that ‘there was no room for them in the inn.”
"We cannot be certain," he said, "but it is my guess that money
could talk in those days as well as in our own. I think if Joseph and Mary had
been people of influence or means, they would have found lodging even at that
busy time of year."[3]
Regardless of the reasons why Joseph, Mary and Baby Jesus
had to settle for subpar accommodations, the fact is that Jesus deserved something more. This was a King—our King—and surely
the best of accommodations were
merited for the royal birth.
Lessons
from the Stable
This leads to the first lesson inherent in the words,
"there was no room for them in the inn":
Life
is not always fair.
This is a tough reality of mortality to swallow, particularly
when we are so accustomed to saying things like, "They’re good people,
everything should work out for them." But the fact is that just as doors
to the inn were closed to wonderful and faithful Mary and Joseph, sometimes
doors are closed to the most faithful of us, at least temporarily, in one way
or another—good physical and mental health; devoted companionship; desired work
opportunities; the ability to bear or raise children; unrealized or
unattainable dreams; and a host of other things. As such, Elder Boyd K.
Packer once taught that, "Life was never meant to be easy or fair."[4]
This was certainly the case for Mary and Joseph in
Bethlehem. In fact, the Inspired Version of Luke 2:7 says there was not only no
room for them in the inn, but in the
"inns.” I would certainly
sympathize with them if after facing rejection at not just one inn, but at many
inns, they said something like this: "Why is this happening to us? We’re
trying to do our best. We've been obedient. We've done everything we have been
asked to do. Shouldn't things be working out a little better?" Alas, a
stable with animals, dung, and debris would be all that was left for the weary
travelers to stay.
However, this brings me to the second lesson:
Contentment
can be found in our constraints.
Although the record does not exactly say this, I personally
can't imagine Joseph and Mary grumbling about the inns being full once Jesus
was born. Yes, his birth occurred in circumstances they certainly had not
wanted and perhaps had not expected. Yet, when the star gleamed and the
shepherds came, Mary, in place of focusing on what might have been, "kept
all these things, and pondered them in her heart."[5] I
like to think that she was pondering on and perhaps even repeating the words
she had said a few months previous to her cousin, Elisabeth: "My soul doth
magnify the Lord, And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour…For he that is
mighty hath done to me great things."[6]
Elder Neal A. Maxwell once said that "developing greater
contentment within certain of our existing constraints and opportunities is one
of our challenges."[7]
Such contentment in limiting circumstances was possessed by Mary and Joseph and
can be possessed by us— but especially if we remember the third and final lesson:
For
the faithful, the Lord will rectify all injustices.
I find it interesting that in Luke’s telling of the
Christmas story, preceding the phrase "there was no room for them in the
inn" is this phrase: "She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid
him in a manger." Perhaps this storytelling sequence implies, among other
things, that the joy of Christ's birth overshadowed the frustration of not
finding adequate accommodations for the birth.
When we face troubling circumstances or watch others
experience them, we would do well to remember that for the faithful, the joy of
the Savior will, whether in this life or the next, supplant the sorrows and
injustices of mortality. Moreover, we can be sure that in the eternities, there
is no maximum occupancy in the Savior's inn, and that our celestial
accommodations will make even the nicest 5-star hotel seem like a stable. In short,
all that is unfair or unjust about mortality will be rectified through the
atonement of Christ, for as the scriptures testify, "[Christ] is full of
grace, equity, and truth."[8]
Testimony
On occasion, I have struggled to know how to comfort those whose
devotion seems to be met with an overabundance of opposition. How can I comfort
someone who is going through something that I have never experienced and that seems
entirely unfair?
As I have struggled with and prayed about those questions, I
have some to this singular conclusion: I
alone can never adequately comfort someone, and I certainly cannot rectify all
injustices. To be sure, I can do my part to "lift up the hands which hang
down."[9]
But in the end, my efforts, as sincere and heartfelt as they are, will
ultimately fall short of what is needed.
As such, I have discovered that the best thing I can do, the
one thing that can bring lasting comfort, is to bear testimony of the Savior,
the Prince of Peace. For as the Book of Mormon prophet Mormon said to his son,
Moroni, during their own troubled times: "May not the things which I have
written grieve thee, to weigh thee down unto death; but may Christ lift thee
up."[10]
I testify that Jesus came to lift us up by "[preaching]
good tidings unto the meek...[binding] up the brokenhearted...[and comforting]
all that mourn."[11]
I testify that as "a man of sorrows and acquainted with
grief", that "the chastisement of our peace was upon Him," and
that "with His stripes, we are healed."[12]
I know that he "descended below all things" so
that He could “comprehend all things.”[13]
And I witness that standing triumphant over sin and death, Jesus
stands ready to envelop us in the "arms of mercy.”[14]
That we will find ourselves wrapped in those arms this
Christmas—especially if we are in a spiritual stable—is my sincerest hope and
prayer.
[1] Luke 2:7
[2] Talmage, James E., Jesus
the Christ, p. 87.
[3] Holland, Jeffrey R., “Maybe Christmas Doesn’t Come from a
Store,” Ensign, Dec. 1977.
[4] Packer, Boyd K. “And a Little Child Shall Lead Them,” Ensign, May 2012.
[5] Luke 2:19
[6] Luke 1:46-47, 49
[7] Maxwell, Neal A., “Content with the Things Allotted unto
Us,” Ensign, May 2000.
[8] Alma 9:26
[9] D&C 81:5
[10] Moroni 9:25
[11] Isaiah 61:1-2
[12] Isaiah 53:4-5
[13] D&C 88:6
[14] Alma 5:33
Stephen Courtright is an assistant professor in the Mays Business School at Texas A&M University, where he teaches and conducts research in the area of organizational behavior. He grew up in DeForest, Wisconsin, and Kuna, Idaho, and served a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Concepcion, Chile from 2002-2004. He graduated from Brigham Young University-Idaho with a B.S. in Accounting and the University of Iowa with a Ph.D. in Business Administration. He and his wife, Nicole, met when they were six years old and grew up together as close friends. They married in 2004 and are the proud parents of four children.
Stephen Courtright is an assistant professor in the Mays Business School at Texas A&M University, where he teaches and conducts research in the area of organizational behavior. He grew up in DeForest, Wisconsin, and Kuna, Idaho, and served a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Concepcion, Chile from 2002-2004. He graduated from Brigham Young University-Idaho with a B.S. in Accounting and the University of Iowa with a Ph.D. in Business Administration. He and his wife, Nicole, met when they were six years old and grew up together as close friends. They married in 2004 and are the proud parents of four children.