We all know the story. Mary and Joseph arrive in Bethlehem. No room in the inn. A stable is all they can find for their nightly digs.

We might picture the typical first-century travel experience as similar to our own. If you’re on the road and get tired – find the next Motel 6 along the way. We don’t realize that staying in an Inn was actually a highly unusual thing in Mary and Joseph’s time.
Hospitality to strangers in the ancient world was a key aspect – a sacred duty actually – of any community’s life, precisely because there really were no Inns or hotels along the way for travelers. You would have to take into your home the slightly strange-looking Lower Mongolian traveling through town, because someday you yourself might be alone, tired and transiting through Lower Mongolia on your way to the in-laws. Basic law of reciprocity.
Remember the story of Sodom and Gomorra in Genesis 19? Here’s a provocative statement: the main sin there is most definitely not the sin of homosexuality. It is the failure of a community to uphold the sacred duty to protect guests, and provide hospitality and safe harbor. The attempt at homosexual rape is a sort of exclamation point to that main sin. Most people don’t realize that the sin against hospitality is really why God gets so upset, and torches those two infamous cities. (Anybody out there have a different take?)
So – all that leads to the question for the week. What would you do if Mary and Joseph showed up on your doorstep? Some of us have had that actual thing happen to us, and more than once – it certainly happens all the time in my line of work. Someone in need shows up at your doorstep. What do you do? Drop everything and help?
We certainly live in a different culture. Hotels are indeed relatively plentiful. Social services arguably are available in many circumstances. When I worked at a soup kitchen, I was subject all the time to requests for help, at all hours of day or night. If I were to respond to each one of them, and not draw boundaries, I would become “an easy mark”, and easily get taken advantage of.
But, if we fail to help the real people at our doorstep – what’s become of us Christians? If I were to say, I can’t help people – I’m too busy maintaining an organization that’s helping people – would I have lost the essence of my calling?
I certainly struggle a lot with that. Should I drop everything and help Mary and Joseph at my door?
What do you think? What are your stories of helping – or not – the Marys and Josephs who’ve come to your door? What’s the proper balance between supporting institutions that help people – as “professionals” – versus rolling up our sleeves and getting our own hands dirty with the real human problems of the person who suddenly comes to us needing our help.
Stories? Comments?
Hey – can we break 10 responses this time?
Peace,
Jeff V.