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)