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November 23, 2008

Make room for Jesus in the ‘inn’ of your soul

By Father Francis Hoffman

CONTRIBUTOR

Type in “Nazareth to Bethlehem” on Google Maps and the result is 10.9 miles or 19 minutes by car. Surprising. But oh, turns out that’s in Pennsylvania. If you search that trek for Israel, the result is just under 2 hours to cover the 97 miles over modern roads.

I’ll bet St. Joseph — young and strong St. Joseph — could have made the round trip on his own in a week, but the baby was due at any time, and being a gentleman he wouldn’t think of leaving Our Lady alone. What a bitter disappointment when he was told, “Sorry, there’s no room for you.”

Advent begins Nov. 30 and Christmas is coming soon. We wonder, will this Christmas be just another version of Groundhog Day with its many repetitions of “no room in the inn” for Jesus? Of course this “inn” is our mind, our heart and our soul where Christ seeks warmth and shelter. But our soul can be so full of self that there’s no room left for Christ.

The Catholic Church, in her wisdom, invites us to make room for Christ by embracing the Advent practices of prayer and penance. Whether it’s the first day of Advent, or the night before Christmas, there’s always time to make room for one more, especially for Christ. May I offer three suggestions to help you make more room for Jesus this Advent?

Get ready to ‘float’

First, go to confession if you haven’t been in the past month. If fear holds you back, realize that the feeling of dread never comes from God your father; it’s from the evil one. God is your merciful father: He loves you, waits for you and looks for you.

In confessing our sins — starting with the most embarrassing one first — our soul is freed and floats on air. Suddenly, there’s all sorts of room in the inn of our soul for God, for others, for estranged family members and even for Catholics who did not vote as you did earlier this month.

Time to adore him

Second, spend some time on a regular basis before Our Lord in the Eucharist. There are dozens of churches and chapels in the Chicago area that offer regular hours of adoration.

Let me tell you a story about the power of the Eucharist. About 10 years ago some friends asked my advice about adopting children because they married later in life and could not have children. “That’s a great idea, but consider the matter carefully,” I told them.

Upon their return from Mexico City they announced their good fortune: They hoped for one child, and came back with four brothers and sisters under the age of six.

Flash forward 10 years. Bill’s hair is gray now, but his smile beams as bright as a beacon. “Father, it’s been quite a journey. Two years ago it got real bad. Our eldest, the girl, was out of control. Fell in with the wrong crowd at school with drugs, theft, anger. We were at wits end,” he told me.

“A friend told my wife: ‘Just go and sit with your kids in front of the Blessed Sacrament every day for 15 minutes for a month.”

What happened? “That was two years ago. My family still goes every day for 15 minutes and our children have settled down. Peace has returned to our family. We’re so happy now,” he said.

Welcome the stranger

Still no room in the inn for Jesus? Then try this: make room for the stranger. Years ago, in medieval Christendom, if an orphan knocked on your door during the Christmas season, you were supposed to take him or her in and provide food and shelter for the evening, because that orphan just might turn out to be Christ passing by in disguise. You know how it goes: “Whatever you do to the least of my brethren, that you do unto me.”

This deeply Christian practice has been captured in a lovely Spanish Christmas Carol, “Madre en La Puerta, Hay un Niño.” Here’s the first verse in English: “Mom, there’s a kid at the door, more beautiful than the shining sun. He says he’s freezing cold ‘cause he’s dressed in rags.’ ‘Well, tell him to come in and he’ll warm up. Because these days, there’s no warmth of affection in the world.”

I know what you’re thinking: the homeless, the elderly, the sick, the poor, the addicts, the prisoners and hitchhikers, they smell, upset your schedule, chew up your time and maybe are even dangerous. Yet all are Jesus in disguise. Show them love or serve them in some sort of way, and there will be room for Jesus in the inn this year.

Hoffman is chaplain of Northridge Prep in Niles and a regular contributor to “Morning Air” on Relevant Radio.