Luke in this week’s gospel
reading (Luke 17:11-19) narrates one of Jesus’ miracles of abundance. Jesus’
abundance, however, is largely unreciprocated. The one that returns to give
thanks is a Samaritan, a “foreigner,” but it seems that Jesus’ response is more
than a mere observation of fact. Jesus’ words seem to have an edge of
condemnation and dismissal. Why does Jesus seem surprised that a “foreigner”
would comprehend the enormity of his healing but nine insiders would
misunderstand?
In the Hebrew scripture
reading from Jeremiah this week, Jeremiah exhorts his Israelite compatriots to
embrace lives as foreigners in Babylon. He tells them to seek the welfare of
the city and help contribute to its thriving. Build homes here, for the homes
to which you hope to return are no longer. Seek the welfare of the city of your
exile, for it is now your city. And yet, at the very same time, Jeremiah evokes
God’s promises to God’s people, declaring that their return to Israel is
assured by God.
These are the incredible
tensions of living as a foreigner in another’s land. When I reflect on my time
in the Solomon Islands and when I first arrived in Australia it was something
that I faced. It was hard not to always look back to what I continued to call
home. I was in a foreign land as far as I knew - here for the long haul. After
20 plus years in Australia it is still hard to not to look to where my family
of origin is as home, especially when the All Blacks are playing.
For a nation of immigrants,
we tend to hear “foreigner” deployed as an epithet too often. We decry the
presence of foreigners in our midst while actually failing to recognise and
neglect our own exilic ancestry. In recent years we have decried those trying
to seek safety on our shores and instead locked them up in prisons offshore. Some
of our Politicians condemn, put down and spread untrue stories about
foreigners. It would seem that Jesus was also pointing out that many of us have
attitudes towards foreigners that are not of God.
Jesus goes on to tell us that
decrying the presence of foreigners in our midst will lead to theological
blindness. The foreigner can approach the word of God in a particularly
insightful way, a path of insight that may now be lost to many of us. After
all, the foreigner understands the sting of oppression. She understands the
usually unavailing nostalgia that accompanies exile. She understands the
rootlessness that characterizes the foreigner’s life. These are all experiences
that shaped the story of Israel and its Messiah. Without them, the narrative of
God’s action in this world is incomplete.
Jesus’ death and resurrection
reveal to us the power of God to overcome all human conditions. That means we
can hold onto hope, even when our differences are decades old, and our
behaviour toward one another is nothing like Christ, and we are embarrassed to
be known more for being in conflict than for the good we do.
We can be bold to speak the
truth about the fact that God loves every aspect and person that is part of
God’s creation. We can celebrate the truth that Christ came that the world
might be saved— not just us, not just them, the foreigner, but all of us. And
we can be truth bearers who refuse to join the battles but rather encircle all
with the love and light of Jesus Christ so that all can know that love and be
free.
No comments:
Post a Comment