Making Room for the King: Rediscovering Christ at Christmas

The Christmas season arrives each year with a rush of activity—decorations to hang, gifts to buy, parties to attend, meals to prepare. In the midst of all this celebration, a troubling reality emerges: it's entirely possible to celebrate Christmas while completely missing Christ.
This scenario isn't new. It happened on the very first Christmas, and it continues today.

Picture the scene in Bethlehem over two thousand years ago. The town was bursting with travelers who had returned for the census decreed by Caesar Augustus. Every inn was full, every room occupied. When Joseph and Mary arrived, exhausted from their journey and with Mary ready to give birth, they heard the same response everywhere: "No room."

The innkeeper who turned them away had a legitimate excuse. Business was booming. The economics were good. Every bed was filled. But in his busyness, he missed the most significant moment in human history happening right outside his door.
The Savior of the world was born that night—not in a comfortable room, but in a stable among animals. Mary wrapped her newborn son in swaddling cloths, the same kind used to wrap spotless lambs destined for sacrifice. Even in His birth, Jesus was marked for His ultimate purpose.

How many of us are like that innkeeper today? Our lives are full—full of good things, full of activity, full of holiday celebrations. But in all our fullness, have we made room for Jesus?

While some missed Jesus because they were too busy, others missed Him because they were too threatened. King Herod heard the wise men's question—"Where is He who has been born King of the Jews?"—and was immediately troubled. The Greek word used here means agitated, irritated, frustrated.

Herod's problem wasn't ignorance. He knew the prophecies. He consulted with religious leaders who could quote Scripture precisely, telling him that the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem. His problem was that he refused to surrender his throne.

Herod wanted to be the only king. He couldn't tolerate competition. His response to Jesus wasn't worship but warfare. He sought to destroy what he couldn't control, leading to the horrific slaughter of innocent children.
The first Christmas wasn't all silent nights and peaceful mangers. It was marked by violence, chaos, and the desperate attempts of evil to extinguish the Light that had come into the world.

Many people today mirror Herod's response. They don't mind Jesus existing somewhere in the background of their lives, but they refuse to let Him be Lord. They want the blessings of Christianity without the responsibilities of discipleship. They want salvation from hell but not surrender on earth.

But here's the truth: there's no room for two kings in your life. You cannot celebrate Christmas authentically while refusing to bow to the King whose birthday you're celebrating.

Perhaps the most tragic group who missed Christmas were the religious scholars. When Herod asked where the Christ would be born, they answered immediately and accurately, quoting the prophet Micah: "In Bethlehem of Judea."
They knew the Bible. They understood the prophecies. They had all the right answers.
But they never made the journey to Bethlehem.

They knew the written Word but never encountered the Living Word. Their knowledge remained intellectual rather than transformational. They could quote Scripture about the Messiah while missing the Messiah Himself standing just miles away.

This is perhaps the greatest danger facing religious people today—the possibility of knowing about Jesus without actually knowing Jesus. Of having Bible knowledge without life change. Of being able to recite doctrine while missing the Divine.

The purpose of Scripture is to lead us to Jesus. If reading the Bible doesn't draw you closer to the living Christ, if it doesn't change your heart and transform your life, then it becomes just another book of religious information.

But not everyone missed Christmas. The shepherds—dirty, lowly, at the bottom of society's ladder—were the first to hear the good news. An angel appeared to them with a message: "I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people."
Notice two things: First, God chose to reveal His Son to ordinary people doing ordinary work. Second, the message was for everyone—not just the powerful, the educated, or the religious elite.

When the shepherds heard about the baby wrapped in swaddling cloths lying in a manger, they understood something profound. As shepherds, they knew that lambs wrapped in such cloths were being set apart for sacrifice. This baby wasn't just another child—He was the Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world.

The shepherds didn't make excuses about being too busy or too unworthy. They went immediately to find Jesus. And when they found Him, their lives were never the same.

So the question confronts each of us: Are you missing Christ at Christmas?
You can have the brightest house on the block, but without Jesus, you're living in darkness. You can have a home full of beautifully wrapped presents, but if they're empty of Christ, you're celebrating an empty holiday.

True Christmas celebration begins when Jesus becomes not just a figure in a nativity scene, but the Lord of your life. When He moves from the periphery to the center. When you stop trying to be the king of your own life and bow before the true King.

This doesn't mean abandoning Christmas traditions or family celebrations. It means reordering them around their true purpose—worshiping the One who left heaven's glory to be born in a stable, who lived a perfect life, who died on a cross, and who rose again so that we might have eternal life.
The innkeeper had no room. Herod had no peace. The religious leaders had no encounter. But the shepherds had everything because they had Jesus.
This Christmas, don't just celebrate the holiday. Celebrate the King. Make room in your heart, your home, and your life for the One whose birthday we're celebrating.
After all, it's not really Christmas if Christ is missing.