There’s no room at the Inn … and other middle-class delusions

“We’d love to be able to help them but we just just don’t have any room in our home right now.� How often have I heard these words? So often I cannot count. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with them when they are true, but usually they’re not.

I say my house is full because I have three bedrooms and all three have an occupant. Three rooms, three people. In the West this is one of the standard middle-class achievement tests. For the rest of the world, it is the way of the elite. Again, there need be no shame in wealth. No shame in having ample space for me and my own. No shame, unless of course there’s someone outside in need and I pretend that I’m out of room.

Here are the compelling facts of my capacity for hospitality …

As I mentioned earlier, I am Lord of the Manor. My particular manor is currently 1300 square feet with three bedrooms and one bath. I know from experience that—if one includes the futon, the couch, adding a bed to each room and ample floor space—my house can easily sleep fifteen. Just recently there were eight of us living here for an extended period (in addition to the cohort of souls that daily glide in and out of our door) and we hardly noticed. That’s what such wealth can do. You see, I can easily accommodate that number of guests because most of my servants are semi-intelligent, user friendly machines that can be utilized all day, any day, day or night.
For example, our chamber maid—or “toilet� as we lovingly call her—requires only two minutes to complete a flush cycle. Add to that a shower, brushing teeth, hair, etc, etc. To be very generous let’s say that it all takes as much as forty five minutes. Given the fact that the bathroom can do this non-stop without needing to rest, then in the course of a twenty-four hour day my chamber maid can easily meet the needs of thirty two live-in guests. The same holds true for the other servants—kitchen, laundry, heating, seating, communications, entertainment. Of course, I’ve never had even close to thirty people live with us, which is why on any given day most of my servants just stand around doing nothing.

The simple elegance of hospitality is that most of us—whether or not we have disposable income to give out—have more than enough wealth to invite people in. Along the course of my walkabout I’ve found that this kind of investment is the very thing needy folks need the most. In the West, one of the chief underlying causes of house-less-ness (being without food, shelter and clothing) is home-less-ness (being without loving friends, family and community). Theoretically, houselessness could be superficially cured by sufficient funds flowing out of our lives (this is how the problem is typically addressed). On the other hand, homelessness can only truly be cured by inviting people in to our lives.

So let’s be honest, you and I. Instead of saying we are unable to help let’s admit that we are actually unwilling to help. Instead of saying there’s no room in our homes let’s just have it out and admit that there’s no room in our hearts. Better yet, let’s open ourselves to the responsibilities that come with the blessings of our wealth and do our part. Perhaps then we can escape the fate of the wealthy poor.

In closing this series of thoughts , I share some thoughts from source of my own inspiration—the true Lord of the Manor and some of his other servants …

“But when you throw a party, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind …â€?

“Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide wallets for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will not be exhausted, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys.�

“For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich.�
“Listen, my dear brothers: Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him?�

“To the angel of the church in Laodicea write:
These are the words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the ruler of God’s creation. I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth. You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see … He who has an ear, let him hear …”

You see, there really is room at the Inn.

Thanks for listening. Happy Holidays.