If you opened the front page of the Gettysburg Times this past Wednesday, you would have found a picture of people walking in a procession amidst the darkness. The title of the photo is “Posadas in Arendtsville” and shows a variety of individuals gathered together, meandering down the streets. Some are dressed in warm jackets, hats, and scarves. Others, in robes, head coverings, and long skirts. The picture captures a “Posada”, a tradition that originates from Mexico, a procession of individuals remembering the search for shelter that Mary and Joseph experienced over 2000 years ago. At each “inn”, or home, the parade passes, the wandering travelers sing a special song: “La Canción Para Pedir Posada”, or “Carol to Ask for Lodging”. The song is sung in parts, with the people walking the path, re-enacting the experience of Mary and Joseph as they ask for shelter in the darkness of winter.
The homes or “Inns” they travel by respond to their request for shelter in verses that discourage lodging, until the final “inn”, where the innkeepers welcome Mary, Joseph, and the rest of the travelers inside for punch, a pinata, and Christmas goodies.
A posada is just one way that the story of Christmas is passed down from one generation to another, and this week, the posada made me reflect on the Christmas story a little differently.
I went back to the story, and intentionally looked at the story, focusing on the struggles of Mary and Joseph on their way to Bethlehem. And when I did so, I realized that the Christmas story was not as simple as our Christmastime children’s pageants make it sound. It’s a nice one, but often, we forget what exactly the people within the story actually experienced, or what they felt.
So let’s take a step into the shoes of Mary and Joseph as they travel to Bethlehem, getting ready for the baby Jesus to be born. Those of us here who are parents or will be parents know some of these feelings all too well:
The anxiousness and anticipation of waiting for your child to be born. Wondering when Mary’s water would break. Hoping and praying that she doesn’t go into labor on the back of a donkey or in the middle of the wilderness as they travel the 80 miles from Nazareth to Bethlehem. Arriving in Bethlehem, traveling from inn to inn, looking for a place to rest their weary bodies, growing more tired with each effort. Mary was probably experiencing the beginnings of labor at this point, and discouraged, anxious, holding onto the donkey’s reins as the first labor pains begin.
Relief as a kind innkeeper, who saw their need, says that they do not have rooms, but he does have a stable with hay.
We find Mary, lying in a stall, waiting for labor to progress, knowing who this child was, praying that the birth went smoothly, but not knowing what exactly to expect. Not having a mother or a midwife to coach her through the immeasurable pain that was coursing through her body. Terror at the implications of giving birth in first century Palestine, because she knows all too well that often, giving birth results in sickness, or death- for the mother and her child.
These were two people, on their own, expecting a child any second, without anyone to help them.
Andrea, a woman who was interviewed for the Gettysburg Times article, says “Posadas Reminds us of the hard time Mary and Joseph had looking for shelter. They were a family full of love, waiting for their baby, but they were pushed away. We all relate to that in some ways”.
Christmas is a time of joyful celebration. It is a time where we remember the birth of the Christ child, we spend time with our friends and family, and tomorrow morning, open gifts that remind us of the gift that God gave us.
But in the midst of this celebration, we tend to forget the Marys and Josephs among us – those searching for spiritual or physical shelter from the storm of life. Those experiencing homelessness, poverty, or sickness. The immigrants among us, wondering and worrying about immigration status and the possibility of being sent back to a country that is no longer their own. Those in need of medical care or food to survive the winter. Those separated from their children and the communities that they call home.
This search for shelter is evident throughout the posada. During the event, a song is sung between the weary travelers and those whom they ask for shelter. The houses they pass give excuses for why they cannot provide shelter to Mary and Joseph, singing
“This is not an inn
so keep going
I cannot open
you may be a thief”.
You can go on now
and don’t bother us,
because if I become annoyed
I’ll give you a trashing.
I don’t care about your name:
Let me sleep,
because I already told you
we shall not open up.”
If we think about it, how often do we offer shelter to those who seek a home?
How often are we like these innkeepers, sending people in need away because we do not know their intentions- and automatically assume they are nefarious?
How often do we tell people to go away because they are annoying?
How often do we dismiss people, tell them that we don’t care about their identity because of our own needs or comfort?
Are we like the first, second, or third innkeepers that Mary and Joseph, and the Posada approaches? Do we see the needs of others and send them to someone else for assistance? Do we make assumptions and generalizations about those who we do not know? Do we prioritize our own social comfort or needs because we tell ourselves that we “don’t have time”?
Or are we afraid of failing in our attempts to welcome?
Someone who attended the Arendtsville posada reflected, “Oftentimes, we would like to reach out to our neighbors, but we don’t know how. There are sometimes linguistic or cultural barriers and we ask ourselves, what will they think? What if I say something wrong? At the posadas, all of our differences seemed to vanish away as we united around the Christ Child and lifted our voices in song. “
On this Christmas Eve, Let us look to that final innkeeper. Let us welcome all, gathering in the lost and forsaken, Gathering in the blind and the lame. Let us see the commonalities among us, instead of the differences. Let us unite around the Christ child, and lift our voices in a song of welcome and peace.
Let us embody that final innkeeper, who provides comfort and respite to the laboring Queen of Heaven and her betrothed. Let us be like that final innkeeper, who when the Posada comes to their house, does not cast them out, but instead calls Mary and Joseph by name and sings with joy:
You are Joseph,
Your wife is Mary
Come in travelers!
I didn’t recognize you.
Receive this haven
That although it’s a poor dwelling
I offer it from my heart.
Let’s all sing with joy
Considering
That Jesus, Joseph and Mary
Are coming to visit us!
So what does it look like to see Jesus in all of us, come to birth this evening to parents outside cultural boundaries, in a town far away from family, looking for a place to stay?
What does it look like for you today, to gather in those who seek spiritual and physical shelter?
Those who are alone this Christmas?
Those who are hungry or cold this Christmas?
Those who are yearning for love this Christmas?
Those who are experiencing Christmas this year for the first time without a parent, a spouse, or a loved one?
We don’t have to be perfect. We will, at some point, be like the first or second innkeeper that Mary and Joseph pass. But God comes to us this evening not requiring perfection, but full of grace as we do our best to care for and welcome our neighbors in need and welcoming all of God’s created and beloved people.
Luther reminds us of this service and welcome in his Christmas reflection: There are many of you in this congregation who think to yourselves: “If only I had been there! How quick I would have been to help the baby and its parents!” Yes you would! You say that because you know how great Christ is, but if you had been there at that time you would have done no better than the people of Bethlehem. Why don’t you do it now? You have Christ in your neighbor. You ought to serve him, for what you do to your neighbor in need you do to the Lord Christ himself.
So give what you can. Share what you have. For Christ comes to and abides in us all. Let us welcome each other as we welcome Christ. Let us welcome with open hearts, minds, and spirits, celebrating a Christ child come to Earth to teach us to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God.
Beloved of Christ, how will you welcome those in need of shelter this Christmas,
Offering it from the heart?
Let’s all sing with joy
Considering
That Jesus, Joseph and Mary
Are coming to visit us!
Amen.
Sermons at St. James Gettysburg 