It was by him and for him that
all things were created.
Everyone in his city he knew by
name, every hair on their heads he
counted.
There was no room at the Inn.
He is the Light, who gives
light to the New Jerusalem. His
light filled the temple in the
days of the forefathers. His is the
glory of God the Father.
There was no room at the inn.
He could have been born into
aristocracy, with a crib of pure
gold and wrapped in the finest
linen. For the earth is his
and everything in it.
There was no room at the inn.
He would grow up and set free the
captives, heal the afflicted,
and raise the dead; he himself
would die and be raised
to life again.
There was no room at the inn.
His death would pay the ransom
for all human transgressions.
His resurrection would
ensure that those who
believed in him would
not only share in his suffering, but
also in his rising.
There was no room at the inn.
There was no room at the inn,
but had the inn keeper known
the Child that Mary carried,
would he have made room
for the Holy One?
Our own hearts are full
of the worries of this life.
If there be no room in your
heart for Immanuel, evict every

Fear and rest in the work of

The Christ