No Vacancy At Stony-Heart Hotel

A CHRISTMAS POEMNo Vacancy
At Stony-Heart
Hotel

How dark that night so very long ago
When Joseph come with Mary near travail
Drew nigh to Bethlehem where they must go
That Caesar’s stern commandment might prevail!
But as they sought a place to lay her head
And darkness deepened with the sinking sun,
They found an inn but not a room or bed
Where Mary might bring forth her firstborn Son. No room for them, for no one would give place
To Joseph’s virgin bride about to bear
The King of faithful Abram’s chosen race
The Son of God and Heaven’s eternal Heir.
And so the heartless menage showed them out
To find a cave where horses slept and fed.
There Mary wrapped her blessed Son about
And used a straw-lined manger for His bed.
Born in a stable, clothed with swaddling bands
The root and shoot of David’s royal line,
King of the Jews and Lord of Gentile lands
Whose kingdom shall not crumble nor decline,
To whom all knees must bow when He shall reign
The King of kings and undisputed Lord
Of all creation, when God’s Son shall deign
To come again with judgments and rewards. Though men ignored the grand, historic hour
God sent His glorious angels to proclaim
Messiah’s birth to shepherds as they cowered
For fear before the shining sons of flame.
And so they hastened to the sacred scene
As told them by the bright angelic band
And saw the royal Babe encribbed, serene
The Mighty God but humble Son of Man. And later Magi guided by His star
Came from the east to bring Him precious things.
These princes who had traveled from afar
Did not delay to worship Heaven’s King.
And yet again they wondered how on earth
They found Him in a simple dwelling-place.
How could it be that He of highest birth
Was not in Herod’s palace hung with lace? And so the feasting world amidst the glare
Of tinseled trees and superficial kitsch
The sparkling vintage and the princely fare
Forgets that He was poor to make us rich.
Men charge their glasses, dine from lavish plates
The laughter peals like bells as nectar flows.
It all has come two thousand years too late!
Who sheltered Him that dark night long ago? Did Joseph revel in the House of Bread
Or Mary laugh when she was curtly told,
“There is no room to rest your weary head
Go use a cave to shelter from the cold!”?
When Jesus Christ was born to save us all
There were no feasts nor presents on the day
But He was left to shiver in a stall
And rest his head upon the graceless hay. And when he came to manhood’s active years
Again He found no place to lay His head.
No Yuletide plainsong sounded in His ears,
But sneers and jeers of screaming hate instead.
The only gift He knew upon a tree
Was His own body hanging on the cross,
When giving up Himself for you and me
He died to save us from eternal loss. The feast of silver frippery and gold
Has little place for Jesus in its sin,
Has turned Him out to suffer in the cold
Of cruel rejection, nor will let Him in.
No room for Jesus! Then there is no space
Within the many mansions in the sky
For stony hearts who have not given place
To welcome Christ, the Son of God Most High. By Tom Summerhill