Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Room at the Inn

This indescribable thing that we call the Christmas atmosphere only hangs in the air as something like a lingering fragrance or fading vapor from the exultant explosion of that one hour in the Judean hills nearly two thousand years ago. But the savor is still unmistakable, and it is something too subtle or too solitary to be covered by our use of the word peace.  1

I want to be disturbed enough, like Herod, when he heard the news that the king of the Jew's had been born, to investigate this birth and ask;  What does this  mean to me? 1

                                      And at night we win to the ancient inn
                                      Where the child in the frost is furled,
                                      We follow the feet where all souls meet
                                      At the inn at the end of the world.
                                                      --G.K. Chesterton

And so I follow the feet where all souls meet, for here is room for even wretched me.

1. G.K. Chesteron, A Year with G.K. Chesteron, pg. 355
2. Matthew 2:3