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The
Innkeeper

J O H N P I P E R

I L LU ST R AT I O N S BY J O H N L AW R E N C E

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A Wo r d f r o m
J O H N P I P E R
To Rollin ❇

And All Who Ever L ost S o quickly do we pass over the Christmas words, “Herod . . .
slew all the male children . . . two years old and under.” But the
A Child
poet lingers, weeping, raging, looking at the dark spot, in hope
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that any prick of light might become a portal for the sun. And
what he sees he strains with words to show—pressing us against
the perforation in the wall of pain.
The Innkeeper
Copyright ©1998 by John Piper
Why this struggle? Why does the poet bind his heart with
Published by Crossway Books
A division of Good News Publishers
such a severe discipline of form? Why strain to give shape to
1300 Crescent Street
Wheaton, Ilinois 60187
suffering? Because Reality has contours. God is who He is, not
All rights reser ved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in
a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic,
what we wish or try to make Him be. His Son, Jesus Christ, is
mechanical, photocopy, recording or other wise, without the prior permission
of the publisher, except as provided by USA copyright law.
the great granite Fact. His hard sacrifice makes it evident that our
Illustrations by John Lawrence

Design by Cindy Kiple spontaneity needs Calvary-like discipline. Perhaps the

First printing, 1998
Printed in the United States of America innkeeper paid dearly for housing the Son of God. Should it not

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

be costly to penetrate and portray this pain?
Piper, John, 1946-
The Innkeeper / John Piper. The Innkeeper seeks to reveal the Light that shines behind this
p. cm.
ISBN 1-58134-027-3 (alk. paper)
1. Jesus Christ—Nativity—Poetry. 2. Hotelkeepers—
brutal moment in history and our own path of suffering.
Bethlehem—Poetry. 3. Christian poetry, American. I. Title.
PS3566.15915 1998
811'.54—dc21 98-36322 Come and see!
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Jake’s wife would have been fifty-eight

The day that Jesus passed the gate

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Of Bethlehem, and slowly walked
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Toward Jacob’s Inn. The people talked
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✳ With friends, and children played along
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The paths, and Jesus hummed a song,

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And smiled at every child he saw.

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H e paused with one small lass to draw Without a thought that this would stump

A camel in the dirt, then said, The rabbi guild and be reviled,

“What’s this?” The girl bent down her head She said, “God did.” And Jesus smiled.

To study what the Lord had made. “Good eyes, my child. And would that all

She smiled, “A camel, sir!” and laid Jerusalem within that wall

Her finger on the bulging back Of yonder stone could see the signs

Where merchants bind their leather pack. Of peace!” He left the lass with lines

“It’s got a hump.” “Indeed it does, Of simple wonder in her face

And who do you believe it was And slowly went to find the place

Who made this camel with his hump?” Where he was born.

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F olks said the inn

Had never been a place for sin,

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For Jacob was a holy man.
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And he and Rachel had a plan
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✳ To marry, have a child or two,
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And serve the folks who traveled through,

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Especially the poor who brought

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✳ Their meal and turtledoves, and sought

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A place to stay near Zion’s gate.
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T hey’d rise up early, stay up late,

To help the pilgrims go and come,

But Noah keeps it safe.” He was

A wedding gift to Jake because

And when the place was full, to some, The shepherds knew he loved the dog.

Especially the poorest, they would say, “There’s nothing in the Decalogue,”

“We’re sorry there’s no room, but stay He used to joke, “that says a man

Now, if you like, out back. There’s lots Can’t love a dog!”

Of hay, and we have extra cots

That you can use. There’ll be no charge.

The stable isn’t very large,

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T he children ran

Ahead of Jesus as he strode

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Toward Jacob’s inn. The stony road
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That led up to the inn was deep
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✳ With centuries of wear, and steep
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At one point just before the door.

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The Lord knocked once, then twice, before

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✳ He heard an old man’s voice, “’Round back!”

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It called. So Jesus took the track
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That led around the inn.
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T he old Sit down.” And Jacob waved the stump

Man leaned back in his chair and told Of his right arm. “We’re in a slump

The dog to never mind. “Ain’t had Right now. Got lots of time to think

No one to tend the door, my lad, And talk. Come sit and have a drink.

For thirty years. I’m sorry for From Jacob’s well!” he laughed. “You own

The inconvenience to your sore The inn?” the Lord inquired. “On loan,

Feet. The road to Jerusalem You’d better say. God owns the inn.”

Is hard, ain’t it? Don’t mind old Shem.

He’s harmless like his dad. Won’t bite

A Roman soldier in the night.

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A t that the Lord knew they were kin,

And ventured on: “Do you recall

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The tax when Caesar said to all
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The world that each must be enrolled?”
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✳ Old Jacob winced, “Are north winds cold?
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Are deserts dry? Do fishes swim

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And ravens fly? I do. A grim

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✳ And awful year it was for me

✳ When God ordained that strange decree.

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How could I such a time forget?
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W hy do you ask?” “I have a debt For thirty years alone, you see?

To pay, and I must see how much. Old Jacob, poor old Jacob, runs

Why do you say that it was such It with one arm, a dog . . . no sons.

A grim and awful year?” He raised But I had sons . . . once. Joseph was

The stump of his right arm. “So dazed, My firstborn. He was small because

Young man, I didn’t know I’d lost His mother was so sick. When he

My arm. Do you know what it cost Turned three, the Lord was good to me

For me to house the Son of God?” And Rachel, and our baby Ben

The old man took his cedar rod Was born, the very fortnight when

And swept it ’round the place: “Empty. The blessed family arrived.

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A nd Rachel’s gracious heart contrived

A way for them to stay—there in

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That very stall. The man was thin
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And tired. You look a lot like him.”
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✳ But Jesus said, “Why was it grim?”
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“We got a reputation here

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That night. Nothing at all to fear

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✳ In that we thought. It was of God.

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B ut in one year the slaughter squad

From Herod came. And where do you

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✳ Suppose they started? Not a clue!
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We didn’t have a clue what they
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No time to run, no time to get

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Poor Joseph off the street and let
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Him say good-bye to Ben or me

✳ Or Rachel. Only time to see

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A lifted spear smash through his spine ‘Kill every child who’s two or less.

And chest. He stumbled to the sign Spare not for aught, nor make excess.

That welcomed strangers to the place, Let this one be the oldest here,

And looked with panic at my face, And if you count your own life dear,

As if to ask what he had done. Let none escape.’ I had no sword,

Young man, you ever lost a son?” No weapons in my house, but Lord,

The tears streamed down the Savior’s cheek,

He shook his head, but couldn’t speak.

“Before I found the breath to scream

I heard the words, a horrid dream:

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I had my hands, and I would save Why would he simply disappear

The son of my right hand. . . .So brave, And never come to help?” They sat

O Rachel was so brave! Her hands In silence. Jacob wondered at

Were like a thousand iron bands The stranger’s tears.

Around the boy. She wouldn’t let

Him go, and so her own back met

With every thrust and blow. I lost

My arm, my wife, my sons—the cost

For housing the Messiah here.

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I
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am the boy In two weeks they will crucify

That Herod wanted to destroy. My flesh. But mark this, Jacob, I

You gave my parents room to give Will rise in three days from the dead,

Me life, and then God let me live, And place my foot upon the head

And took your wife. Ask me not why Of him who has the power of death,

The one should live, another die.

God’s ways are high, and you will know

In time. But I have come to show

You what the Lord prepared the night

you made a place for heaven’s Light.

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A nd I will raise with life and breath

Your wife and Ben and Joseph too,

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And give them, Jacob, back to you
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With everything the world can store,
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✳ And you will reign forever more.”
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