While Mary and Joseph could have been in a stable or cave (certainly not an inn!), Luke’s word choice is very telling. In 2:7, inn is the Greek word kataluma. But in Lk. 10:34, Luke uses another word for inn: pandoxeion. This was the usual word used for what we conceive of as a motel. While kataluma can mean inn, it also means upper room or a guest room located on the roof, accessible by a flight of stairs. In Lk. 22:11, kataluma is used for the place where Jesus and his disciples ate their last meal. The commercial word for inn was available to Luke, even used by him in his Gospel. So why use kataluma here? Perhaps as a detailed-conscious historian, it mattered to Luke to get it right. It is commonly accepted that Mary herself was a primary source for Luke on the early life of Jesus and she certainly remembered where Jesus was born. Consider 1st century architecture for a moment. Many houses had a lowered area where animals were brought inside on cold nights. Then, raised about 3 feet was the living, eating, and sleeping area. This raised area would keep the animals from wandering up to the common area. It was very common for homes to put a guest room on the roof, to be used by visitors or themselves if it was a hot, summer night. It would be accesible by a flight of stairs, usually located on the outside of the home. Now, consider this scenerio:
It is very likely that 140 years before Jesus was born, during a Jewish resettlement campaign, Bethlehemites went north and settled the town of Nazareth. We know Joseph had to register in Bethlehem, so he had family connections to Bethlehem. It is very likely that the couple came to the home of a distant relative, counting on the tradition of hospitality for lodging. Being late in her pregnancy, the relatives made room in their home for the young couple, certainly not turnig them away. The kataluma (upper guest room) was already occupied by others who arrived first. But it was not a suitable place for a very pregnant girl anyway since it would mean climbing a steep, narrow staircase without a railing on the outside of the home to reach the guest room. Instead, a place was made in the warmth of the home, on the raised living area. They cleaned out the feeding trough, or manger, and prepared a place for the delivery and stay of the Joseph, Mary and the baby. On the divinely appointed night, sometime near Dec. 25, 6 B.C., Jesus the King was welcomed into the humble, but safe and warm, home in the city of the Great King David.
We know from Luke 2:7 that Mary gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. But, was she alone? Was there a mid-wife? Was Joseph out with the other nervous first-time father in the waiting area? We see in Luke 2:22 a hint that Joseph may have helped with the delivery. 40 days after the birth they went to Jerusalem for their purification. The text is explicitly plural: their purification. But it is unclear to whom it is referring to aside from Mary. According to the Mishnah, a collection of Jewish, extra-biblical legal requirements, if a man helped out with a delivery of a child, he was to offer a sacrifice for his purification as well. Perhaps Joseph was in there, receiving Jesus the moment he came out--maybe he even cut the cord (he was a man experiences with tools, being a carpenter!).
This month at the International Bible Church we're considering all the ways that God the Father prepared his Son Jesus to begin his public ministry at 30 years old, a ministry that would end 3 1/2 years later in a brutal death on the cross. July is a great time to think about the Christmas story in large part because it is not the usual time of year to do so. All the sentimentality is stripped away and we are more willing to let the Bible inform us of what really happened. Let's consider Luke 2:1-7 for now.
It is interesting to read the biblical account of the birth and compare it with what we have come to love and think happened. Our view of the Christmas story is probably derived more from greeting cards, TV and Hollywood than the Bible. Let’s let the Bible destroy our mythology and rebuild a strong, truth-centered foundation that will instill awe in us. First, there is no donkey: we don’t know how they got there, only that they “went up from Galilee…to Bethlehem” (2:4). Secondly, against many popular movies, including the recent release of "The Nativity," Mary doesn't go into labor the moment they get close to the town. Luke informs us that they were settled in when the time came: “While they were there, the time came for her to give birth” (Lk. 2:6). And the swaddling cloth? Where did that come from? It seems likely that they went to Bethlehem planning to have Jesus there, not just to register. They would have know the Micah 5:2 prophesy and probably saw the Augustus census order as God's clear leading to leave Nazareth late in Mary's pregnancy and take the 3-5 day trip south to Bethlehem. If this was their plan, then they probably brought with them the swaddling cloths (2:7). What about the frantic search for lodging? It's not in the text. The inn keeper? He's not there either. Joseph was going to register family land--that's what the census was for: assesing property tax. It is very likely that they were planning on staying with distant family in Behtlehem. Joseph certainly was aware that he was not the only peron heading to Bethlehem to register. He knew it would be crowded. Given the fame of Middle Eastern hospitality, it seems unlikely that anyone—least of all relatives—would have turned away a very pregnant girl and her young husband.
In considering what the text actually says, we walk away with an image of God's care and protection of Jesus. Luke just doesn't present us with the image we commonly see of a frantic, sense-lacking Joseph who was totally caught off guard by the labor and lack of lodging. This image of Joseph just doesn't fit with the contemplative, thoughtful, and righteous man we see in Matt. 1. It seems that we need to give more credit to Joseph and Mary. They were very aware of the lateness of the pregnancy and what to expect in Bethlehem when they got there. Look back over Luke 2:1-7 and see what it says, and perhpas more importantly, what it doesn't say.
The famous poem Footprints is special to many, but it actually can lead us to falling into one of the three traps of perpetual immaturity mentioned in Eph. 4:13-16 (being tossed to a fro, carried about by every wind of doctrine). When the man in the poem looks back and sees that sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there was one, God tells him the that when there was only one set, He was carrying the man. But the Bible actually says there is always only one set of footprints, “30The Lord your God who goes before you will himself fight for you, just as he did for you in Egypt before you eyes, 31and in the wilderness, where you have seen how the Lord your God carried you, as a man carries his son, all the way that you went until you came to this place” (Dt. 1:30-31).
This poem produces subtle, but lethal pride in us. Do you see the arrogance of believing that we can take credit for any part of our salvation (including current salvation: sanctification)? We have such a problem with pride that we don’t need it to be stimulated in us via sentimentality that would package itself as a “thanks for the help, God. It was nice to have you along with me and occasionally pick me up when I got tired.” Is there is ever a time when we don’t need to be carried? One of the essential elements of saving faith is admitting that we never could nor ever will be able to go one step on our own.