Luke 2:7 And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in strips of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

So translated by AV, ESV, NASB, RSV, NRSV, God’s Word, Good News.

NIV – ‘…because there was no guest room available for them.’

New Living Translation – ‘…because there was no lodging available for them.’

Unravelling fact and fancy

The traditional translation (‘No room at the inn’) has become engraved in the popular mind and, along with an unfriendly inn-keeper, in many a nativity scene.

Daniel Darling (The Characters of Christmas) acknowledges, on the one hand, that ‘scholars’ are unsure about exactly what is meant by the ‘inn’:

‘Scholars have debated throughout the centuries exactly what this means. What kind of inn was this? Many believe the roadside dwellings in those days were little more than a collection of modest shacks, surrounding an inner circle where animals and other livestock were kept. Others speculate that this was nothing more than a cave with some livable space carved out. What we do know and what we can be certain of is this: the accommodations were not five-star.’

Once again:

‘There is, to be sure, not much certainty about the exact circumstances of His birth. Scholars will continue to quibble. Was it an inn? A spare room in someone’s home? A cave? A grotto?’

But this uncertainly doesn’t prevent imaginative manipulation of the text.

Darling writes of the extreme difficulty ‘endured by Mary and Joseph as they stumbled into Bethlehem, weary, hungry, and in need of a place to deliver a baby.’

Elsewhere, he writes of ‘Mary, ready to go into labor’, and experiencing ‘birth contractions’.  But the text simply does not say that Mary was on the point of giving birth when they arrived in Bethlehem.

While he concedes that ‘the Bible doesn’t mention an innkeeper’, for some reason

‘we have to imagine that there was someone present who let Joseph and Mary know, to quote Luke, that there was no room at this inn.’

Furthermore, we are invited to:

‘imagine how Joseph felt after knocking on the door of the inn and asking, expectantly, “Do you have room for my pregnant wife and me?” You don’t have to be a Greek scholar to understand the frustration he must have felt at the words that came back at him:  “No room in the inn.”’

But being ‘a Greek scholar’ has nothing to do with it.  A perusal of any English translation will show that there is no record that such a conversation ever happened.

Rather similar is J. John’s mix of fact and fancy:

The innkeeper in Bethlehem was faced with a dilemma: a man with a pregnant wife and his inn fully booked.  He turned Mary and Joseph away saying that he had no room for them.  As far as we know he didn’t call for anyone to help the young mother about to give birth…

Mary was vulnerable and alone.  There were no midwives, no one came to help her.  The Bible doesn’t say whether Joseph was there…Such circumstances for a birth in first-century Jewish culture were extremely unusual.  Yet that is what happened.  Mary did it herself.  There was no basket for the newly born baby Jesus, so Mary had to lay him in an animal feeding trough.

The innkeeper turned away a young mother about to give birth and missed the first Christmas.

(J. John, A Christmas Compendium, p62)

But, aside from several unwarranted assumptions (Mary was ‘about to give birth’ when she and Joseph arrived Bethlehem; there was no-one to help her with the birth of this, her first child), this account reflects a translation that is probably wide of the mark.

Peter Goeman is another who gets it part right, part wrong.  After agreeing that there was probably no ‘inn’, and no ‘inn-keeper’, and that the word probably refers to a guest room that formed part of the family house, he then engages in the following flight of imagination:

‘Although the city was no doubt busier than normal (it was the Christmas season after all), that the family could not make room for a pregnant mother nearing her delivery is strong evidence that the family rejected them. Mary and Joseph had, in the mind of the family, clearly engaged in fornication prior to being married. And for that reason, the family likely was displeased to have such unrepentant sinners staying in their guest house. It seems that the family did not allow their wayward family members to stay in the guest room (which would have been expected had Mary’s pregnancy been after marriage), but apparently did suffer them to stay with the animals. A humble and shameful beginning to the life of the Savior of the world!’

‘It was Christmas season after all’ – This is an obvious absurdity.  Perhaps Peter meant it as a joke (I hope so!).  If the city was ‘busier than ‘normal’, this would probably be due to the comings and goings occasioned by the census.

‘A pregnant woman nearing her delivery’ – There is no indicated in the text that Mary was in a late stage in her pregnancy.

As to the suggestion that Jesus’ parents were not allowed to use the guest room, and were forced to stay with the animals, this is another instance to adding two and two together and making five.  The text gives no hint as to the family’s reaction to Mary’s pregnancy.  If, then we have to guess why there was ‘no place for them in the guest room’, then it was probably because it was already full.

A more likely reconstruction

Let us attempt, then, a more likely reconstruction of events.

It is unlikely that Bethlehem (with a population of a few hundred people and not situated on a major trade route) would have a public inn.

It is likely that Joseph, returning to his ancestral home (or, as seems quite possible, to his own home) would be able to find ready hospitality for himself and the pregnant Mary.

As for the word itself, kataluma normally meant guest room, although it could mean house or inn. Luke’s use of the definite article could equally apply to the guest room (of the family house) as to and ‘inn’.  Furthermore, when Luke wants to speak of a commercial inn he uses pandocheion Lk 10:34 referring to an establishment found on the major road between Jerusalem and Jericho. Also, when Luke uses the word kataluma in his Gospel Lk 22:11, cf. 1 King 1:18), it clearly does not mean an inn but a guest room.

ISBE (2nd ed) defines ‘kataluma‘ – ‘the spare or upper room in a private house or in a village […] where travelers received hospitality and where no payment was expected.’

James McGrath (The A – Z of the New Testament) explains that, in the ancient Mediteranean world, most travelers relied on hospitality.  So it was with both Jesus and Paul and their many travels: not once is a commercial inn mentioned.  People relied on their network of connections or (if that failed) on a letter of introduction.  Commercial inns were only used when such networks could not be relied up, as with traders and foreigners.  Unsurprisingly, the one place a commercial inn is mentioned in Luke’s Gospel is in the Parable of the Good Samaritan: the victim is an outsider, and, since he is injured and naked, was not in a position to demonstrate his connections.

Stephen Carlson argues that the phrase does not mean, ‘no room for them in the kataluma‘, but ‘no room in the kataluma’ (i.e. no place to lay the baby).  This would be consistent with the suggestion that they did stay in the kataluma, but that there was insufficient room (or privacy) for her in that room for her to give birth.

Bailey quotes an older researcher:

‘Anyone who has lodged with Palestinian peasants knows that notwithstanding their hospitality the lack of privacy is unspeakably painful. One cannot have a room to oneself, and one is never alone by day or by night. I myself often fled into the open country simply in order to be able to think.’

Considerable doubt is cast, therefore, on the traditional picture of Joseph and Mary being turned away from an ‘inn’ because there were no vacancies there.

A more accurate picture emerges:

‘It becomes more likely that by kataluma Luke means either house or guest room, and the latter translation must have the edge precisely because in the vast majority of ancient Near-Eastern peasant homes for which we have archaeological and literary evidence, the manger was within the home, not in some separate barn. The animals as well as the family slept within one large enclosed space that was divided so that usually the animals would be on a lower level, and the family would sleep on a raised dais (Bailey). In this particular case, we should probably envision Mary and Joseph staying in the home of relatives or friends, a home which was crowded due to the census being taken, a home where Luke tells us there was no longer any room in “the guest room” (noting the definite article before the noun). Consequently, Mary gave birth to her child perhaps in the family room and placed the baby in the stone manger. This means that a good deal of the popular conception of this scene has no basis in the text. In particular, the idea of Mary and Joseph being cast out from civilized accommodations and taking up temporary residence in a barn is probably based on a misunderstanding of the text.’ (DJG)

James McGrath (The A – Z of the New Testament) agrees that the text is referring to a guest room.  However, his reconstruction…

‘The home where Joseph and Mary have arrived is crowded. They are relying on hospitality from whomever showed it to them. They place Jesus in a feeding trough at the edge of the living space adjacent to where animals were brought into the home at night. Why are they not in a spare room or some other better accommodations? Luke doesn’t tell readers explicitly because the answer would have seemed obvious: it is because other people who were deemed more important guests were already occupying whatever guest room the home might have had.

‘One point thus remains the same as in the modern Western idea of what happened. The family relies on hospitality and does not find a welcome on arrival…The story as Luke’s early readers would have understood it conveys something more than a lack of good fortune and available space. It conveys that Joseph and Mary were not the most important guests in the home of a relative in the birthplace of Joseph’s illustrious ancestor David. They were shown the minimum of hospitality that was required by the culture and the sense of obligation felt by their hosts. Others were apparently deemed worthy of a better space, while Joseph and Mary (and eventually Jesus) made do with what was left.’

…is questionable in two respects.  Firstly, McGrath ignores the clear implication that Bethlehem is Joseph’s own home town, and that he would therefore have sought (and found) accommodation amongst his own kinsfolk.  Secondly, and following from this, we need not suppose that Joseph and Mary were made to feel unwelcome or less important than other guests.  If we accept that the guest accommodation was crowded, then it would make sense to use a quieter, more private space for the birth itself and for nursing the new baby.

Since they had traveled to Joseph’s ancestral home, it is likely that he had relatives in Bethlehem, and that he and Mary would have found lodgings with them. But because of all the other people who had come to the town because of the census, there was no room left in the guest room. They therefore were crammed with the rest of the family on the upper level, and Mary laid here new-born baby in the stone manger amongst the animals on the lower level.

Bailey explains why he thinks that the thoughts conjured up by the traditional of ‘no room at the inn’ are probably wide of the mark:-

1. Joseph was returning to his ancestral home.  He only needed to explain who he was and most homes in the town would have given him a welcome.
2. Joseph was of royal blood.  He was descended from King David, and Bethlehem was known as the ‘City of David’.  That connection, too, would have assured a welcome in the town.
3. In that culture, as much as in any other, a woman about to give birth would have been given special attention.  The community would have ensured that adequate shelter was found and suitable care was provided.  To do otherwise would have caused unspeakable shame.
4. Mary’s relative, Elizabeth, lived not far away.  If adequate shelter could not be found in Bethlehem, then they might have been able to travel that short further distance.  The fact that they did not suggests that adequate shelter was, in fact, provided in Bethlehem.
5. As previously noted, the text does not say that Mary gave birth immediately upon their arrival in Bethlehem, but rather, ‘while they were there’.  Thus, it is likely that Joseph has sufficient time to make arrangements for adequate shelter and care.

Other Scripture references assume the kind of one-roomed house and associated domestic arrangements implied here.

• In Judges 11:29-40, Jephthah makes a rash vow that he will sacrifice the first thing that comes out of his house.  He would fully have been expecting one of the animals to emerge, but is shocked to see that it is his own daughter.
• In Mt 5:14f, the lamp gives light ‘to all in the house’.
• In Lk 13:10-17, Jesus reminds his critics that they would, every day (including the Sabbath) untie his ox or his ass from the manger and lead it to water: again, the underlying assumption being that the animal would have been kept in the house over night (for that was where the manger was situated), but that it would have been unthinkable to leave it there during the day time.

With preachers in mind, France (We Proclaim the Word of Life) comments that

‘it is easier to envisage Jesus as truly “one of us” if his entry into the world was in such an ordinary domestic scene rather than in the abnormal setting of a stable or cave.’

Although a careful reading of the text does not suggest that Jesus was born either in abject poverty or in loneliness.  Still, the circumstance of his birth were lowly.  As the Holman Apologetics Commentary states:

‘This lowly origin may be taken as another indication that the Gospel authors resisted the temptation to bend the truth in an attempt to make Jesus’ biography more desirable. The birth among livestock would be most unexpected for the Messiah and would not be something the disciples invented.’

Witherington, similarly:

‘If Bethlehem was the town where Joseph and Mary’s relatives lived, it is natural to expect that they would have first sought accommodations with their relatives; and in fact that is likely the case. The word kataluma in verse 7 should probably not be translated “inn,” as is typically done. Bethlehem was such a small village on a minor road that it is not clear it would have had a wayside inn. Furthermore, when Luke wants to speak of an “inn” he uses the Greek word pandocheion (see, for example, Luke 10:34), not kataluma. Elsewhere, when Luke uses kataluma he means “guest room” (see Luke 22:11, where it refers to the guest room in a house where Jesus and the Twelve eat the Last Supper). Thus, Luke likely says nothing about the holy couple being cast out of an inn and Mary having to bear the child in a barn.’ (What Have They Done With Jesus?)

Ian Paul notes that several aspects of the received Christmas story need to be re-thought:

‘[T]o advocate this understanding is to pull the rug from under not only many familiar carols (‘a lowly cattle shed’; ‘a draughty stable with an open door’) but also a favourite theme of Christmas preachers: the ostracism of the Son of God from human society, Jesus the refugee. This is subversive stuff. When I first started advocating Bailey’s interpretation, it was picked up by a Sunday newspaper and then reported in various radio programmes as a typical example of theological wrecking, on a par with that then notorious debunking of the actuality of the resurrection by the Bishop of Durham!’

France adds:

‘The problem with the stable is that it distances Jesus from the rest of us. It puts even his birth in a unique setting, in some ways as remote from life as if he had been born in Caesar’s Palace. that’s the message of the incarnation is that Jesus is one of us. He came to be what we are, and it fits well with that theology that his birth in fact took place in a normal, crowded, warm, welcoming Palestinian home, just like many another Jewish boy of his time.’

Ian Paul concurs:

‘In the Christmas story, Jesus is not sad and lonely, some distance away in the stable, needing our sympathy. He is in the midst of the family, and all the visiting relations, right in the thick of it and demanding our attention. This should fundamentally change our approach to enacting and preaching on the nativity.

Even if we should not assume that Jesus was born in abject poverty and neglect, it is nevertheless reasonable to conclude that Christ is identified with the poor and the homeless from the very beginning of his earthly life. See Lk 2:24/Lev 12:6-8 for evidence that the family was poor, and 2 Cor 8:9 for the contrast between the riches which were his by right, and the lowliness of his earthly existence.

According to the Lexham Geographic Commentary, should not regard the early chapters of Luke’s Gospel as a story of rejection (as encapsulated in the ‘No room at the inn’ slogan), but rather one of initial acceptance:

‘Luke’s birth narrative is sometimes interpreted as a foreshadowing of the people’s rejection of Jesus. The “no vacancy” sign which hung in the window of the inn is paradigmatic—so the argument goes—of Jesus’ reception among his countrymen. They had no room for him in their hearts. But if our reconstruction is correct, a different theological trajectory emerges: Jesus was not initially rejected—he was accepted. This is evident not only in Luke’s account of Jesus’ birth but in the following chapters of his book as well. The shepherds, after hastily making their way to Bethlehem to see the child announced by the host of angels, gladly receive Jesus and praise God for what they had seen and heard (Luke 2:20). Eight days later, Jesus is praised and blessed by Simeon and Anna when he is presented to the Lord at the temple (Luke 2:22–38). In the following pericope even the religious leaders are amazed at his understanding and answers (Luke 2:47). Several verses later, Luke comments that upon returning to Nazareth that Jesus increased in favor with God and man (Luke 2:52), and even at the beginning of his ministry Jesus is “glorified by all” (Luke 4:15). In short, the flow of the first chapters of Luke is that of a warm initial reception, not a cold rejection. It is not until Jesus returns to Nazareth that the days of his amiable acceptance come to an end (Luke 4:28–30).’

Does it matter?

Hints have already been given as to why all this matters.  However, let Ian Paul summarise:

1. It demonstrates how, even with important parts of Scripture, we find it hard to read what Scripture actually says.

2. It also shows how easily we impose our own assumptions on the text, rather than reading it in its context.

3. Resistance to the evidence shows how powerfully traditions have a grip on us, and resist revision.

4. Most importantly, the ‘traditional’ reading that Jesus was born in a stable actually distorts the story of Jesus’ birth, and mutes the central message of the Christmas story—that Jesus wasn’t born in a place where we can happily visit once a year, and then forget about. Rather, he comes to the centre of human life, and cannot so easily be romanticised or ignored.

(See also Croteau, Urban Legends of the New Testament, chapter 1.)