The story of the birth of Jesus, of God becoming man, is a story of redemption and salvation. But it is also something more than that. It’s the story of God stepping directly into the brokenness of our world. It’s God choosing vulnerability, entering fully into the human condition, so that He can lead us to peace and wholeness. Through the Incarnation, God doesn’t remain distant, He’s not someone who remains removed from our lives. The Creator becomes a creature so that He can completely unite Himself to our story.

Over these past four weeks of Advent, that season of joyful expectation, we’ve been invited to prepare our hearts to receive the Savior. Tonight/Today, we’ve arrived at the moment to make a decision. Have we made room for Jesus to dwell within us?

In the Gospel tonight/today, we hear a portion of that story from 2000 years ago, the story of the first Christmas. Joseph and Mary have returned to the area of Judea for the Roman Census. As they arrive in Bethlehem, Mary is literally about to give birth to Jesus. Joseph is frantically looking for a place where Jesus can be born. He knocks on the door of the innkeeper only to be told that there is no room for them there. 

Today, a similar scene is playing out. Only this time it’s not Joseph who is knocking on the door of an inn looking for a place that can accommodate the Holy Family. Instead, it’s Jesus knocking on the door of our hearts. He’s asking us tonight/today, “Do you have any room available for me?” Have we prepared our hearts enough for Christ to come into them anew?

There’s something really quite beautiful about the Christmas story. It gives us an insight into who God is. God the Father desires relationship with us so much and He loves us so immensely that He sends His Son into the world. The manger is no longer empty. Jesus comes to redeem us and to make our return to the Father possible. But He doesn’t come the way people expected. He doesn’t arrive as a powerful ruler or an earthly king. He comes as a child, as a baby. Vulnerable. Dependent. Small.

God humbles Himself by taking on our human flesh, by entering our reality, facing temptation, and showing us how we are called to live. And He humbles Himself even further by being born in a food trough for animals. What’s remarkable is that Christ’s birth isn’t something that simply happened 2000 years ago. It continues to happen today. It happens in us every time we come to Mass and receive Him in the Eucharist. It happens in quiet moments when God reminds us that He’s close to us. It happens when, in the mess and struggle of life, someone reminds us that we’re not alone.

Wherever you find yourself this Christmas, Jesus is coming to you. He wants to be born again in the manger of your heart. And the beautiful thing is, you don’t need to be perfect. You don’t need to have everything figured out. In fact, it’s often those who feel most broken who are closest to the Lord’s heart.

If you’re grieving or feeling alone this Christmas, He’s knocking on the door of your heart.

If you’re facing a difficult health diagnosis, He’s knocking on the door of your heart.

If you’re spending long days in hospitals or nursing homes caring for someone you love, He’s knocking on the door of your heart.

If you’re worried about work, finances, or what comes next in your life, He’s knocking on the door of your heart.

If you’re struggling with anxiety or mental health challenges, He’s knocking on the door of your heart.

And even if life is going well right now, He’s still knocking.

Tonight/Today, the Lord comes to each of us asking a simple question: is there room for me? Do we have a place within us where the Christ Child can rest? Hopefully we won’t respond like the innkeeper and say, “Sorry, there’s no room.” Instead, when Jesus knocks tonight/today, open the door with joy and tell Him, “Yes, Lord. Please, come in.”

Photo: The Nativity, Walter Chávez. Used under Unsplash license.