And there was no place for them in the inn.
So there was an inn that Mary and Joseph were turned away from. This got me thinking. Who were the people that ran that pub? What follows is completely unsubstantiated speculation.
Bertie is your average, built like a rugby player publican. He is a no-nonsense sort of bloke and he certainly takes no umbrage in the Legless Farmer Inn that he runs. He knows exactly where the line is and those who cross it, smartly find themselves out in the cold. He also knows his clientele.
For example, Bertie knows about Jacko who does not handle his liquor well and Cadfael who has a weakness for the ladies. He also knows Rollicking Roderick who has a penchant for both ladies and liquor.
Bertie took over the Legless Farmer Inn from his father and over the last 12 years, he has probably seen it all. The lonely, the drunks, the fisticuffs and those who slip quietly in and out for the odd cup of wine just before the sabbath begins.
He has two upstairs rooms for entertainment purposes and there are some stables out the back for pilgrims.
One online review by Tripadvisor described The Legless Farmer Inn in this way
“The Legless Farmer Inn is a quaint, cosy establishment with authentic everyday fittings and a rustic atmosphere. The food and wine are locally produced and appreciated by those who have limited dining options.”
There’s also a dark, dank cave about 100 metres away, where Bertie often finds someone sleeping it off, or sometimes more than one.
He is capably supported by Edwina, his wife. She has learnt to live with Bertie and the pub. His late nights, his not coming home, his bruises from the biff and the taxes which always seem exorbitant and go nowhere. Still, she sticks by him and for all his faults she can’t help but love him. She must, to be still pouring wine and being leered at till the wee small hours, is not a Sunday school picnic.
She would also say that she has seen it all and there are no more surprises in this industry.
Bertie’s ecstatic when the governor, Quirinius, announces a census because it means a full house and many draughts of wine to be sold. He can almost hear the sound of his pockets jingling. Bertie swiftly checks his bookings on his smartphone app Legless farmer.com. His rooms are all booked out within 24 hours of Quirinius making the announcement. In fact, the Legless Farmer Inn is completely booked out for the whole week. Bertie and Edwina quickly try to hire more staff and order-in more rough red liquor.
As the day of the census draws closer the punters start to arrive. The Legless Farmer is packed to the gunnels and business is brisk. Late one blitheringly cold night, Edwina is about to close the front door so that some discreet after-hours trading can happen. It’s then that a heavily pregnant woman and some old codger front up with desperate looks in their eyes. She recognises the old guy as the carpenter from Nazareth because he made a couple of bar stools for them; but the young woman she has never seen before. She looks at the bulging belly and then she casts a scalding glance at Joseph. Really Joseph?? “Now" she sighs to herself “Now, I’ve really seen it all” Without a word being exchanged Edwina knows exactly what they need and she knows the answer she must give. She also knows this teenage lass is in the early stages of labour.
“Look love we’re all full up. We have no room for you here and I’m sorry Joseph got you into this mess.” Another withering look.
Joseph and the girl are shattered. And when the tears start, Edwina weakens and shows them to the cave. It’s dark, dank and stinks like last night's donkey poo, which is why exactly the intoxicating aroma assaults your nostrils and clings to you the moment you walk in.
Edwina settles them as best she can when the maiden cries out in labour pain. It’s then that Edwina speed-dials her friend Martha the midwife.
And there was no place for them in the inn.
Some points to draw from this story.
First, Quirinius, Edwina and Bertie have participated in one of the greatest events of all history, but they are completely unaware of just how significant their role is.
We all participate in God’s plan even when we don’t realise it and it’s just another ‘day at the office.’ There is no day, no action, no event, no text, and no conversation where God is absent. There is no place or time where he is not working out his plan for us and with us.
Secondly, check out the stinky cave. God can use our darkest, dankest and most appalling ‘cave’ to His glory. In fact, He seems to thrive in our mucky and murky places.
Finally, Quirinius, Bertie and Edwina would not describe themselves as Churchy or religious. In fact, they would be askance at the idea. But it is precisely through these sorts of people that God does some of his most dazzling work.
And if God can use these people and a noxious old cave to his glory, then …