SEEING WITH THE HEART

I Remember the Night “And she gave birth to her first-born son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.” Luke 2:7 The flame from a small open oil lamp flickers, causing shadows to fall, shimmering and dancing on the white wall behind an old man. He is sitting at a large wooden desk, counting coins and bagging money. It is the end of a busy day in a boarding house in Beersheba, the last major stop before the desert and the main road to Egypt, beyond the hill country of Judea. One hour after closing time, old Eliab slowly gets up from his chair as his wife, Rebecca, brings him word that a distinguished visitor from Jerusalem awaits him at the door. “Come in, come in! Welcome to the most hospitable inn between Jerusalem and Alexandria. Join me here in my den, where I’ve been closing my books for the day. Sit here by the light, so I can see you. Rebecca tells me your name is Luke, that you’re a physician interested in research and writing. You’ve come this way searching for information, seeking answers about that night long ago in Bethlehem. Let me pour you a chalice of wine. You have travelled far, on this cold night. “I have rarely spoken about it. That night was too intimate to be exposed, too sacred to be vulgarized by verbalizing it to those who didn’t understand. Or even try to understand. “I remember the night as though it were yesterday, even these many years hence. I am an old man now, soon to retire, contentedly waiting out my remaining days here, along this dusty road running across the desert. But I was young then, working at the inn in Bethlehem, which was owned by Rebecca’s father. I was impressionable, eager to please and determined to succeed. “We had only recently married and were deeply in love. It seemed as if we were spiritually synchronized. We could speak without words and be near each other even when apart. It was as though we breathed the same breath, shared the same heart and saw with the same pair of eyes. It was a precious time for us. We enjoyed every minute of it, even though it was terribly hectic. “Caesar, you will remember, had called for a tax. Every man had to return to the city of his father for the census. Our inn had more guests than you can imagine! It was a thrilling time. “At that point in our lives, we were trying to save some money. Rebecca and I were grateful for the help of our parents, but we wanted to have an inn of our own, like the one you are visiting this evening. For this reason, I was eagerly and enthusiastically meeting the needs of as many travelers as possible, as each hour brought us nearer our goal. Ironically, our good fortune was because of Caesar! “Yes, I remember the night. The inn was filled to capacity. Guests were huddled in the halls. They were sleeping in the streets, reclining on the roof, bedding down behind the inn in makeshift tents. Stubborn camels and braying donkeys were tethered in the vacant lot, east of the building. We had hired extra help to cook over open fires, to feed the festive guests. “Toward the end of the day, a young peasant, about my age, came to the door seeking a room for himself and his wife. I started to send them away, but Rebecca noticed the woman’s condition; she was great with child. Rebecca pulled me aside and whispered in my ear, suggesting the stable.