No Room in the Kataluma

About ten to fifteen years ago, I began reading books that helped me study the Scriptures through a Middle Eastern lens. This was made possible because more and more Bible scholars and teachers and preachers had begun and are doing the same thing.

When I wrote my novel, Star of Wonder (July 2025 release), I wanted to share some things I’d learned about the story of Jesus’s birth, as recorded in Luke. The nativity scene that most of us grew up with isn’t as accurate as we once believed, mostly because we failed to understand the culture, customs, idioms, and word meanings from the time.

Mary and Joseph were poor (they dedicated Jesus with two turtle doves because they couldn’t afford a lamb), so it is unlikely they would have had a donkey to carry Mary from Nazareth to Bethlehem for the census. She would have walked much of those 95 or so miles.

And the word translated as “inn” in King James and many other versions in Luke 2 is kataluma which means guest room. Luke knew the difference when writing his gospel between a guest room and a public boarding house because he used a different word—pandocheion—in the story of the good Samaritan. Also, inns were not commonplace. It isn’t like motels today. Bethlehem was full of Joseph’s family, descendants of David, and family welcomed family.

When it says there was no room for Mary and Joseph in the kataluma that was most likely because other family members had come to Bethlehem for the census and they got to the guest room first. Probably the small house was bursting at the seams.

In Jewish culture, hospitality was/is everything. Joseph was bringing his pregnant wife to stay with family members. They would not have been “turned away” from a family residence. More likely, they were turned away from the guest room itself. It was full, so they probably stayed in the lower level of the home, next to where the animals were kept at night.

Last Sunday, the lead pastor at my church preached on these very things. It made my heart so happy because when we understand the culture of that time we understand God’s word so much better.

My editors didn’t allow me to keep that part of the story in Star of Wonder. They said their readers wanted what has become the traditional story (Mary on a donkey, couple turned away at a public inn, etc.). So, although disappointed, I revised the opening of the book and had Mary and Joseph arrive at Dobah’s house with baby Jesus already born elsewhere in Bethlehem.

Well, I would like to share below the opening of the novel as it was originally written and perhaps give you something new to think about this season. I hope you will enjoy it. 

I also hope you’ll have a chance to read Star of Wonder because altering the opening didn’t change how much I love this biblical novel and hope my readers will too. It’s available now for the Kindle and in paperback on Amazon and Barnes & Noble as well as directly from Guideposts. (And if you get the book, you’ll now know what I was able to keep and what was lost.)

Buy STAR OF WONDER

Dobah’s lonely, widowed life changes the night her cousin Yosef arrives with his wife, Miryam, and their newborn son, Yeshua. The baby was born under a brilliant light in the sky that could only have come from Adonai. With the arrival of the Magi from the East looking for the King of the Jews, Dobah knows her cousin’s Son is blessed.

The lost opening of STAR OF WONDER

Dobah held Levi’s hand as he took two steps toward his favorite toy, his happy babble bouncing off the walls of the small room attached to her abba’s house, the one she shared with her eleven-month-old son as well as her savta. Her savta instead of her husband.

Tears welled, but she blinked them away. It did not serve to wish for what could never be. Dover, her husband, had been dead for more than a year. She could not bring him back, no matter how much she wished she could. She could not change what had happened to him, the accident that had taken his life and left her a young, pregnant widow, forced to return home to live with her parents once again.

The sound of Imma’s singing in the small courtyard drifted to her, and she lifted Levi into her arms before leaving the room and walking to the front door.

The census commanded by Rome had swelled Bethlehem’s population to at least twice its normal size. More people were arriving in the village every day, and the street was filled with people, just as the guest room of Boaz ben David’s house was already filled to capacity with male family members who had traveled to the village in obedience to the decree.

“Yosef!”

Dobah heard her imma’s cry of delight and saw her arms reach out in a gesture of welcome. Yosef, her favorite cousin! She darted out into the small courtyard.

There he was, beyond the stone fence, her impossibly handsome cousin. Yosef ben Yakov. And with him was his wife, Miryam, large with child. Both of them looked travel weary, and Dobah could easily imagine that Miryam’s exhaustion was even worse than it appeared.

“Have you room for us?” Yosef asked.

“The kataluma is full,” Imma answered, “but do not worry. You are welcome. Come in. You can wash your feet and have something to eat and drink.”

Balancing Levi on her hip, Dobah moved to open the gate for them.

“Hello, cousin,” Yosef said to her, smiling. His gaze shifted to her son. “Is this Levi? Look how he has grown.”

“Yes.” She rose on tiptoe and kissed Yosef’s cheek. “It is good to see you again.”

“And you? How are you?” He gave his head the slightest shake. “I am sorry, Dobah. I know it is still hard.”

A lump rose in her throat, and she nodded in answer.

Yosef reached back and drew Miryam to his side. “Dobah, this is my wife, Miryam. Miryam, this is my cousin, Dobah, and her son, Levi.”

Miryam’s smile was shy. “Yosef has told me much of his family in Bethlehem.”

“All good, I hope.”

Yosef laughed. “All true, at least.”

Imma led the way into the house, Yosef and Miryam right behind her. Dobah waited a few moments by the gate, allowing memories to wash over her. Sweet memories of family gatherings—for weddings, births, festivals, and more. So much love. She was blessed to be part of such a family. They were none of them wealthy, but money could not buy what was most important.

Levi pumped his arms and squealed his demand for action. Smiling again, she hurried toward the entrance to their home.

The main floor of the Boaz ben David home had one large room for living, eating, and cooking, plus an area beneath the guest room for sleeping. A narrow staircase led to the kataluma, now occupied by five more cousins who had come to Bethlehem for the census. To the left of the main entrance and down three steps was the small stable where the family’s livestock—two goats and a donkey—stayed during the night.

“It is such a long way from Nazareth,” Imma was saying when Dobah entered the house.

“A very long way.” Yosef put a hand on Miryam’s shoulder. “We were able to travel several days in a wagon, but that family turned off the road two days ago. We walked the remainder of the way. But we were always with a large group. We did not encounter any danger along the way.”

“Such a difficult time.” Imma tsked softly. “It is cruel, what the Romans have done. Your wife should not have to travel so far at such a time.”

“My place is with my husband.” The look Miryam gave Yosef was shy and a little uncertain.

Dobah remembered feeling that way with Dover when they were first betrothed. Even after their marriage had been consummated, she’d been unsure what to say or do so much of the time. But at least when it had come time for her to give birth she’d been with Imma and her two married sisters. Miryam, on the other hand, was far from family and friends. And, unless looks deceived her, it would not be long until Miryam required the assistance of other women. She would not return to Nazareth until after her baby was born.

“You mentioned others.” Yosef raised his eyes toward the guest room. “Who is here? Where are they now?”

Imma named the five cousins—men in their twenties and thirties—who had come from as far north as Tyre and as far south as Beersheba. Unlike Yosef, none of them had brought their wives nor any of their children.

Imma finished her reply, saying, “They are in the vineyard with Boaz. It is nearly time for our evening meal. You will see them all soon. And they’ll be hungry. We can be sure of that.”

Reminded by Imma’s comment, Dobah set Levi on the floor and went to check the stew that simmered above the cook fire. Fresh bread waited on a nearby table, along with cheese, olive oil, and wine. Was it enough to feed so many men? She hoped so. With Bethlehem bursting at the seams because of the census, it had become more and more difficult to find items to buy in the market. While her abba was more prosperous than many of their neighbors, they still could not purchase what was not available. Still, hospitality would not allow them to turn anyone away. It was part of their culture, ingrained by their faith in a God who cared for strangers and aliens as well as widows and orphans.

Loud male laughter from the street announced the return of the men from the vineyard. Yosef stood mere seconds before the door opened. But it wasn’t Boaz or any of the cousins who came through the opening. It was Boaz’s imma, a tiny woman with deeply wrinkled skin and a near toothless smile.

“Savta!” Yosef moved to embrace their grandmother, lifting her feet off the floor and knocking the scarf from her gray head.

“Put me down,” the old woman demanded with a laugh.

He obeyed.

Boaz entered then, followed by five other men, all of them tall and broad-shouldered and bearing a strong family resemblance. The spacious living area suddenly felt too small to hold them all as the men exchanged hugs and slaps on the back and laughter reverberated through the room. 

Dobah looked toward Miryam and saw the panicked expression she wore. It was overwhelming in the best of circumstances. When one was weary and pregnant, it was too much. Dobah hurried over to her cousin’s wife and drew Miryam to her feet. 

“Come. We will sit outside for a time.”

Miryam looked ready to cry. “Thank you, Dobah.”

“I will tell you stories of Yosef when we were little and make you laugh.”

* * * * *

“Dobah!” Imma’s whisper was filled with urgency.

Dobah blinked away sleep as she sat up on her cot. Had moments passed since she’d closed her eyes or had it been hours?

Light from the oil lamp in her imma’s hand spilled into the room. “Get up. We need you.”

Dobah glanced toward her savta and Levi, both of them undisturbed by Imma’s voice. She rose and slipped between the two cots and out of the small chamber.

“Miryam is in labor. We must prepare.”

“The house is full.” There was a question in Dobah’s statement.

“Yosef has taken the animals outside. I sent your abba to get your sisters. You and I will clean and prepare the stable.”

Dobah said a silent prayer for Miryam, that all would go well with her delivery. Thankfully, Dobah’s sisters—Hadassah and Leah—as well as their imma had helped bring quite a few babies into this world, including Levi as well as Hadassah’s three children and Leah’s four. They would do all in their power to see that Yosef and Miryam’s child arrived safely.

In the living area, Miryam sat on the bed that had been made for her and Yosef. An oil lamp flickered on the floor beside her. As Dobah drew near, Miryam moaned softly. Dobah rested her fingertips on Miryam’s shoulder. “We will hurry,” she said softly.

It was not unusual for homes in Bethlehem to have an attached stable, some little more than a cave with walls of limestone. Stables were often used for more than a place to keep prized animals safe from weather and thieves. Tonight, with the guest room full of men, this stable would become a private place for a woman to give birth.

Dobah and Imma set to work, cleaning the stable. They were joined before long by Dobah’s sisters, and the preparations were completed in short order. When Imma and Dobah went to get Miryam, they found Yosef standing near his wife, his expression anxious. His lips were moving. In prayer, no doubt.

“Do not worry yourself,” Imma said in a comforting voice. “All will be well.”

Dobah took one of Miryam’s arms and Imma the other. Gently, they helped her to her feet.

None of the women in the stable that night—all but one of them who had delivered babies of their own—were unaware of the dangers inherent with childbirth. They knew many women died during or after a birth. And death for the baby was even more common. Still, their hearts trusted in the blessings of Adonai.

Dobah held Miryam’s hand and murmured words of encouragement whenever the girl was gripped with another pain. The passage of time was lost on them as Miryam labored to bring her child into the world. And when it happened at last, when the male child’s cry split the air, Dobah felt a sense of joy unlike anything she had experienced before. It overwhelmed her and brought tears to her eyes.

“Praise be to Adonai!” she cried, the words seeming to burst forth of their own volition.

Imma also seemed overcome by the moment. But then she shook her head as she lifted the squalling infant into her arms and carried him to the three steps leading to the living area. “Yosef,” she announced in a loud voice, “you have a son.”

“I have a son!” Yosef exclaimed.

The cousins who had joined him sometime during the night shouted words of celebration.

Imma returned to Miryam. Hadassah and Leah bathed and swaddled the baby while Dobah and Imma washed Miryam and helped her change into a clean tunic. When all was done, the baby was returned to Miryam’s eager arms and Yosef came down into the stable. He walked to his wife, knelt beside her, and together they looked at the infant, wonder on their faces.

Dobah stood back against the wall, watching her cousin and his wife. Her heart pinched at the sight. How she wished Dover could have seen his own son.

Smiling sweetly, Miryam kissed the top of the infant’s head. “He is here, Yosef.”

“He is here.”

Miryam looked up into her husband’s face. “Adonai is ever faithful.”

“He is ever faithful. Blessed be the name of Adonai.” Yosef took the baby from Miryam and rose to his feet. “Oh, my son,” he said softly as he returned to the steps. “Come and see.”

The other cousins drew close and murmured approval. After a short while, Yosef laid the baby in the nearest manger. Turning, he noticed Dobah and said, “Watch over Him while I help Miryam back to the bed.”

She nodded, still wondering at the strong emotions that rolled through her. What seemed so different about this birth? She couldn’t describe it. She didn’t—

Sounds from outdoors drew her eyes toward the entrance to the stable. Who was out there in the deepest hour of the night? Her heart began to thunder in her chest. Were thieves about to steal her abba’s livestock that had been taken outside? Or worse, were Romans in the streets of Bethlehem while residents slept?

Torchlight spilled into the stable above the gate, and the baby’s cries grew louder.

“He is here!” the man holding the torch said to his companions. “The Child is here.”

Abba came down into the stable and moved toward the gate. “What is it you want?”

“We have come to see for ourselves.”

“See what?”

“We are shepherds who keep watch over the flocks. Tonight was a night like every other until suddenly an angel appeared to us. The glory of the Lord shone all around him, around all of us. The angel told us not to be afraid and declared that in Bethlehem this night we would find a Child wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger. He said it would be a sign for us that a Savior has been born, a Savior who is the Messiah, the Lord.” 

Dobah sucked in a breath even as her abba fell back against the wall of the stable. In that moment, the baby stopped crying. The silence that followed seemed filled with awe.

A Savior who is the Messiah, the Lord.

Dobah looked from the shepherds at the stable gate to her cousin and his wife, both of them now standing. She watched as Miryam went to the manger and gathered the baby into her arms, pressing herself close to Yosef. But if the girl was surprised by the shepherd’s pronouncement, it didn’t show on her face. It was almost as if she’d known someone would say those words.

An angel.

Her cousin fathering the Messiah.

It was absurd. Wasn’t it? Yes, her family was from the line of David, but they were ordinary people. They weren’t warriors or leaders of armies. They weren’t powerful or rich.

A Savior who is the Messiah, the Lord. The words reverberated in her heart once again.

Abba opened the gate and gave the shepherds entrance to the stable. The looks on their faces as they approached Yosef and Miryam and the baby warmed Dobah’s heart. Whatever else might be true or untrue about this night, these men believed they were looking upon the Messiah. It shone upon their faces for all to see.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!