(No) Vacancy
This Advent we’ve explored a variety of holy spaces. But what about when there just isn’t any space? What about when the inn is full?
The Emergency Department of the hospital where I serve as a chaplain is the 11th busiest Emergency Department in the United States. It is frequently full past capacity, with patients overflowing into stretchers and hallways. This abundance of patients happens so often that each of those hallway spots has its own bed number. When the ED runs out of even those hallway spaces, a Red Diversion is called. This code means that while the hospital will not (cannot) turn away anyone who comes requiring immediate medical attention, all ambulances will be redirected to other hospitals, unless the patient specifically asks to come to this hospital. There is full, there is overflowing, and then there is literally no more room, not even a hallway.
The Latin American tradition of Las Posadas reenacts the journey of Mary and Joseph going door to door in Bethlehem looking for a place to stay. There is no room in any of the structures built for people. It is demoralizing to be repeatedly told that there is no room for you. You can’t stay here. Move along. Do you mind sitting elsewhere? We’re saving that seat for someone else. We’d love to have you, but we don’t have room. Space became highly valued during the COVID pandemic and many of us reevaluated the spaces we weren’t using (especially guest rooms) and changed them into something we use more often, so they weren’t wasted. Is space for guests wasted space?
It certainly felt that way during the height of COVID. For many of us, our small talk skills as well as our hospitality skills got rusty. We forgot how to welcome guests as well as how to be guests because we just didn’t practice that skill, nor was it “safe” to do so for a significant period of time. When it became less risky, then it became too uncomfortable and we tend to shy away from uncomfortable spaces.
Sometimes it’s not a physical “no room” but a mental “no room.” I feel too overwhelmed, I can’t think about that right now. I’m in the middle of something, so you’re going to have to wait. Sometimes we tap out without realizing we’ve hit our limit. And then we may yell or cry or sleep or in some other way release the pressure we feel.
There has been so much going on these past few years that you may feel like you regularly have no extra room. You can’t handle one more thing. Your mental hallways are full.
Or, it may be the space you create becomes occupied by something not intended for that space. Last year, as we decorated for Christmas for the first time in our new house, I created space for our creche. Yet, before I could set up the creche, my children’s gingerbread houses soon resided in that space instead. Instead of one nativity scene, we had two candy-filled abodes, and the space was just as holy.
Whether your space is intentionally redesigned or filled with surprises, whether it feels roomy or limited, may the space you have this holiday season bring you peace and joy, may it be life-affirming, may it be holy and blessed.