Do you feel pressure to create the perfect "Hallmark Christmas," only to be met with stress, difficult relatives, and a feeling of emptiness? We often think that a perfect holiday means abundance, comfort, and peace. However, Bishop Sheen famously remarked that the saddest moment in history was when there was "no room at the inn."

In this episode of Midnight Carmelite, we explore the profound theology behind the Manger and the Inn. While the Inn represents a world full of itself with no room for God, the Manger represents the poverty, lack, and discomfort where Christ actually chooses to be born. We discuss how you can transform family tension, awkward conversations, and holiday chores into an offering of "straw" for the baby Jesus, turning your struggles into a path for deep spiritual growth.

In this episode, you will learn:

  • The Spiritual Value of Discomfort: Why Christ chose the cold, smelly manger over the comfort of the inn, and what that means for your holiday struggles.
  • How to Navigate Family Conflict: Practical advice on practicing spiritual poverty when dealing with difficult situations or hurtful comments.
  • From Possession to Freedom: Understanding St. John of the Cross’s teaching that to possess God, we must desire to possess nothing—including our own will.

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TRANSCRIPT

The Theology of the Manger versus the Inn

Welcome to this week's episode of Midnight Carmelite. We are on the homestretch here, headed into Christmas, and I hope your Advent has been fruitful. I hope you have found ways to shovel out with mortification and put straw in the manger for the baby Jesus to welcome into your heart. Speaking of the baby Jesus, when we think of Him, we often think of warmth and peace. However, I want to focus this episode on the manger itself in contrast with the inn. Bishop Sheen once remarked that the saddest moment in all of history was in the Gospel of Luke, where it said there was no room at the inn. They had to be in the cave. There was no room at the inn, so He was put in the manger—the feeding trough—because no one wants to visit that place. Why? Because it is likely cold and probably didn't smell very good due to the animals, making it uncomfortable. It is not a place you want to be born in, nor a place you would want to stay. Yet, that is where Christ ordained Himself to be brought into the world in His incarnation.

The Necessity of Spiritual Poverty

How does this apply to Christmas? The manger—Christ's manger—represents lack. To find Christ, you must experience poverty. At Christmas, we are usually thinking of fullness: stuffing ourselves with food, piles of gifts, and stimulation. But there is no room for God in all of that because there is no space. In fact, His poverty is found in the very fact that He took on human nature and impoverished Himself. The Church Fathers talk about this: He impoverished Himself so that we may be rich—rich in God. Therefore, it is important to acknowledge this spiritual poverty in the family context. We often try to fix toxicity, difficult situations, or uncomfortable moments because we want a sense of fullness on our terms. But the Holy Family was rejected from the inn because it was full; there was no room. If you are feeling rejection or feel out of place, you are actually closer to the Holy Family than you realize.

When you go into Christmas, you may deal with relatives who don't like how you are living your life. You may want to defend yourself when they say things you find hurtful. Try not to defend yourself unless charity absolutely requires it. St. Thomas Aquinas says there is an infinite number of moral situations, which is what prudence and charity are for—especially prudence to judge. But if you don't need to respond, then don't. That is a poverty of reputation. Similarly, if you are looking for comfort and a difficult relative sits next to you, offer that discomfort up. If you are assigned to cook and clean while the rest of the family sits around—even if they are not "at the foot of Jesus" like Mary—offer it up. Even though you don't like it, that is straw in the manger for Christ. The very feeling of "I don't like this," that lack and poverty, is exactly what He was born into.

Possessing Nothing to Possess All

How do we identify and think about this spiritual poverty? St. John of the Cross, in one of his poems, said something to the effect of: "To come to possess all, desire to possess nothing." We feel full when we possess—when we say, "This is the limit of what I need, and I'm going to take it so I no longer have this lack." The problem is that we attach ourselves to what we think is good for us based on selfish desires rather than God’s will. Do we desire to possess the status of being right all the time? We need to let it go. Do we desire to have a perfect "Hallmark Christmas"? We have to let it go, because that is putting everything on our terms. The key is to look at St. Thérèse of Lisieux and her "Little Way." She didn't fake it; she really tried with the nun who was difficult. She was genuinely annoyed, but that was her poverty, and that was her way of dealing with it.

Embracing the Manger in Daily Life

How do we bring this into Christmas now? Find your "Herod" or the "Innkeeper" in the Gospel characters around you. When a person annoys you, or when a political issue arises, you can be silenced by having a "poverty of opinion." Unless charity calls for you to stand up for the truth, it may be better to remain silent, as standing up might only embellish your pride rather than charitably correct the person. When you are doing the dishes while others rest, you have a poverty of comfort. Every time you are in that discomfort and poverty, that is your stable. That is your manger. You are with Christ, and this is the currency of God. Those who follow Him and take up their cross are the ones who will enter the Kingdom of Heaven. That is what we want, and that is why He was incarnate. Merry Christmas, and I look forward to talking to you all after the holidays and into the New Year.