Friends,
I don’t know if you have had a chance to see it or not, but a nativity display at a Methodist church in Southern California has been getting a lot of attention lately, because it depicts the Holy Family separated and placed in detention, in cells made of chain link fencing.
I really like the display. It reminds us of an important—and sometimes forgotten—detail in Matthew’s Christmas narrative: the Holy Family were what today we would call asylees. They were displaced from their home because they had a legitimate concern for their safety in Bethlehem.
After this display invites us to remember that the Holy Family had to flee their home, it then challenges us with this question: what treatment would Jesus, Mary and Joseph receive if they came to the United States looking for asylum? Would they be separated and locked in detention?
It is very likely they would end up in the very conditions portrayed by the nativity display. And if we are supposed to see Christ in everyone—including every asylum seeker from Mexico and Central America—then the Christ child is being separated from her parents. He is a political pawn; they are at the mercy of strangers who don’t necessarily have their best interests at heart.
During Advent we remember that in Christ, God is with us radically, that is to say, at the very root of our being. Where we are refugees and asylum seekers, God is coming to dwell with us there. Where we are hungry, God-with-us yearns for a meal.
And if we are none of those things—if we are safe and well-fed, God is with us too, always meeting us where we are most human. Supporting us in our weakness, loving us when we feel unlovely, welcoming us when we feel outcast, rejoicing with us in times of success or happiness.
This is important to remember: Christ comes first to the poor, the oppressed, the marginalized, the sore beset, but there is more than enough of Christ to go around. Christ lives in us and through us, and that can be kind of scary, and wonderful; it connects us to the divine in profound ways, it also give us a common cause with families who, like the Holy Family, seek safety in a far off land. Because Christ is with them and with us, Christ connects us. Their journey is ours, and we must never allow their welcome to be defined by separate cages along the border that demarcates the line between safety and a life of fear.
God’s Peace,
Ben
P.S. Here is a video of the Pastor of Claremont United Methodist Church talking about the Nativity in front of her church: