Robert & Kay Camenisch encouraging and equipping relationships

Cleaning House for Jesus

When Mary and Joseph arrived in Bethlehem, the city was teaming with travelers. Fortunately, when no rooms were available, the innkeeper let Mary and Joseph stay in the stable. Consequently, when Jesus was born, he had a manger for a bed.

The story is recreated in pageants, nativity displays, and on Christmas cards. It’s a calm, sweet scene as shepherds and wise men gather in the stable, giving allegiance to the babe, with a cow and donkey in the background.

You’ve seen it, but have you stopped to think about that stable? If the inn is full, the stable was certainly full of the traveler’s animals. Animals that aren’t house trained. Birds were likely roosting in the rafters, with chickens under foot.

The stable was far from the idyllic scene that we imagine. With a constant influx of travelers, who knows when it was last shoveled out. The filth and smell must have been terrible. Even the manger was made for feeding animals, not cradling a king. It could never be properly sanitized.

To the best of our knowledge, the stable was not emptied or cleaned for Jesus’ birth. The innkeeper would be busy tending to guests and their animals. Just a chicken on the move would undo any effort made to clean the stable.

It seems so unfitting for a king, especially the King over all kings to be born in the midst of such conditions. Why would God allow His only Son in a place so entirely unsuitable for a baby?

After all, if we’re expecting a special guest, we clean at least the living room, making sure it’s presentable. If a king were scheduled to come, we’d go into hyper-spring-cleaning mode, making sure everything was spotless and in order. We’d also keep the dog and cat out, lest any hairs be left on the furniture.

Our guests get our best. And yet, Jesus was born in a dirty, stinky stable and laid in a rough manger for a bed—a feeding trough that probably had animal slobber on it.

It seems incongruous. A mistake. Inappropriate and out of place.

But is it?

That stable in Bethlehem is a perfect representation of a sinner’s heart. It’s filthy, and it stinks.

Furthermore, there is no way that we can clean up our hearts. No matter how hard we try, the stench remains. We might make commitments to change, then sweep and scrub with all our might, but it’s hopeless. Try as we might, we can’t sanitize our hearts.

But God doesn’t ask us to clean our hearts before He comes. Jesus moves into filthy hearts. He does the clean up that we can’t do. He throws out the filth. He sweeps us clean and makes our hearts as new.

That is, He’ll do it if we open the door and allow Him in. I tend to get out my dust rag and broom and try to clean myself up. But it’s hopeless. My scrubbing and sweeping always fall short.

Too often, I simply forget to invite Him in to do the cleaning. Sometimes, I keep my gaze turned, trying to ignore the filth that is causing the stench. Or, I hesitate to bring it to Him because I’ve become comfortable with the grime and don’t want to clean it up. Sometimes, a particular mess seems too bad to clean up.

But all things are possible for God through Jesus Christ. (Mt. 19:26) As a baby, Jesus came into a filthy stable and was laid in a dirty manger. He lived a sinless life. Then He hung on a cross to carry the filth away, to clean and disinfect all our filthiness.

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 Jn. 1:9 NKJ).

Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Create in me a clean heart, O God, And renew a steadfast spirit within me.” (Ps. 51:7, 10 NKJ)

Time to Clean House

I was awakened this morning by a dream. We were moving to an unseen furnished apartment for a season. I opened the door on moving day to discover it was furnished indeed. The rooms were packed full of antique furniture. Not grand, gorgeous pieces. It was more like pieces inherited from Aunt Myrt and Uncle George and Aunt Sally—all safely gathered in.

Furthermore, all the surfaces were cluttered with knick-knacks and collectables, things deemed valuable in their day. It was claustrophobic before we brought anything in.

I was overwhelmed, thinking, “There isn’t even any place where we can put our Bible’s down.” It was mild compared to some dreams, but it seemed real. I was instantly wide awake.

They say dreams grow out of the brain’s processing of life. Robert joked that my dream is a picture of my brain. It’s so cluttered, that there isn’t room for anything else—such as learning to use new technology.

I’ve been trying to de-clutter and get rid of unnecessary stuff in our home. Maybe that’s where the dream originated. At least it motivated me to be more aggressive about cleaning out unnecessary items.

However, what stuck with me is that my dream is a heart picture. We treasure things in our heart. We gather them safely in, guarding them from harm. They feel comfortable, warm, and tend to shape how we see ourselves. Many—hopefully most—are pleasant.

Some are not so pleasant. In fact, they’re bad—even harmful—but we hold them just the same, unsure how to let go. After all, they are part of us too.

While things of the past are not bad, it’s possible to hold them– and the identity gained through them–so tightly that it prevents us from moving forward. They can bind us so we don’t have room for God to speak into the present.

Or maybe it is not things of the past that fill us, but things of the world. Do we spend all our time chasing things that are important in the culture/world, but are of no consequence in eternity? Does keeping up with the Joneses (in fashion, home, entertainment, power, . . . , even ministry) crowd our life so much that we don’t have time for God?

Paul’s words to the Romans are applicable today. “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect” (Rom. 12:2).

The contents of the apartment in my dream were not bad things, but together they were not good or acceptable and were far from perfect. Transformation was needed before I could live there.

I woke up because my brain switched into overdrive to find a solution. And I question, do I need to do the same with my heart and mind?

In order to be transformed by the renewing of our heart and mind, we need to get rid of the old (idols, priorities, wounds, beliefs, habits, identity,…) so we can embrace the new. To know the will of God, we need to be free to walk in His freedom and grace so we can walk in His way.

In the effort to keep up with responsibilities, it’s easy to hang onto things without realizing it. However, If we try to hold the old and the new at the same time, we’ll hate the one and love the other (Matt. 16:13)—and we tend to gravitate toward what is familiar and comfortable.

In the dream, I walked into somebody else’s clutter and was overwhelmed. With our own clutter, it builds gradually and we grow accustomed to it, but it can overwhelm us without us realizing it. It weighs us down, distracts, and hinders us, impeding our walk with the Lord.

God’s yoke is easy and His burden is light (Matt. 11:30). If we’ve been burdened down and overwhelmed, it’s time to clean house, to get rid of stuff in our lives that keeps us from experiencing all that God has for us.

Lord, help us clean house and make you preeminent in our lives, so we can experience righteousness, peace, and joy in You.