Wednesday, January 9, 2019

“Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother and went to Egypt and remained there until the death of Herod.” (Matthew 2:14) 

                Looking at today’s news, this post-Christmas glimpse into the lives of Jesus and his parents strikes, sadly, a very contemporary chord.

                They have become refugees, fearing for their very lives. They were fleeing a dreadful situation as Herod hunted and killed children.  It’s not like they could take a jet or a train or a bus; probably, they had to walk the hundreds and hundreds of miles, just to get to the border. They have had to leave behind all that was familiar and hide in a foreign country.  But it was no longer safe for them in their homeland.

One might expect that as Jews they might find it difficult to be accepted. They would need to learn a new language, new local customs, new laws and regulations. Joseph would need to find work to feed, clothe and house his family. It was not the way Joseph or Mary had planned to start their family. 

They were poor immigrants, just the clothes on their back, seeking shelter and safety, trying to find a fresh start in a land that traditionally was enemy territory to Jews.

We find far too many parallels today. Thousands have fled dangerous Latin American countries to walk to the American border to be met with hostility, tear gas, ignorance, prejudice and fear. Boats loaded with hundreds of men, women and children try to flee Syria and other mid-eastern and African countries so to escape the wars, the famines, cruelty and politics within their home countries. These, too, are often met with resentment, hatred and animosity in their new countries. They are all far from welcome. They are all tainted as trouble-makers, terrorists, job-stealers, a burden on tax-payers, etc.

Maybe, a few are, although the facts don’t seem to bear those mis-truths out. Instead I think that if we really looked closely at these tattered refugees, we would find again and again, the real-life echoes of Joseph and Mary and baby Jesus. If we looked in these folk’s eyes, we would see a plea for hope, for safety, for peace, for a second chance.

Last night, these refugees were called a humanitarian crisis among other things, a crisis of the soul or a crisis of the heart. This new Herod actually is right or, at least, the words are right but the response of building fences and walls and using people like pawns and collateral damage seem to belie these fine- sounding words.

For when we close our doors and minds and hearts to those who are different from us and who don’t sound or look like us or don’t worship like we do or who are inconvenient and problematic we may be shutting the doors to people like Joseph and Mary and little Jesus. Imagine slamming the door in the face of the Saviour!

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the creation of the world. For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.’ “Then these righteous ones will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing?  When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ 40 “And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’” (Matthew 25: 34 – 34, New Living Translation) 

Dale