This is the reality of
our world today. There is no room.
No room for refugees. No room for Lumads.
No room for the Rohingya. No room for Palestinians. No room for PLHA. No room for LGBTQi. No room for the
Other. Sadly, nothing has changed.
The first Christmas. We combine Matthew’s
and Luke’s narratives. We re-enact it almost every December in our school plays
and in our church pageants. St. Francis started the tradition in the 1200s. In
our re-enactments, Joseph and a very pregnant Mary find no room in any inn. No
one is ready and willing to welcome the couple. Eventually, they find shelter
among animals, in a manger, where Jesus is born. Soon, visitors arrive: angels,
shepherds, even the Little Drummer Boy in some of our plays, and then the magi
bringing gifts. Incidentally, in one TV spot I saw abroad, one of the magi
brings the Baby Jesus the newest Android Smartphone.
In artwork going around in our social
networks, the Wise Men are blocked by Israel’s Apartheid Wall. Mary and Joseph
experience an IDF checkpoint. No room for the Magi. No room for the Holy
Family. Not even in Bethlehem.
We think our Christmas
Plays end on a happy note because we either end it with everyone singing carols
or with a rendition of Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus, sang by the choir or blasted
through our sound systems.
We forget that the play ended the way it
began: there was no room in the inn.
In rare occasions we do find people going
against the script. Sometimes, someone from the audience, someone from our
congregations would volunteer to welcome Joseph, Mary, and Joseph to their
homes. Sometimes, we hear someone crying out: “There is a place for them in our
home.”
Today is one of those times when we are
challenged to affirm that “there is a place in our homes, in our churches, in
our schools, in our communities.” Today, more than ever, we need to go against
the script. We cannot afford to close our doors. We cannot afford to put up
walls. Trump is wrong. Israel is wrong. Duterte is wrong.
We cannot afford to be inhospitable. We
cannot afford to spend Christmas without opening our homes to the Christ who
confronts us through the least among the least: the hungry, the thirsty, the
sick, the prisoners, the unclothed, the complete stranger, the orphan, the
widow... the thousands left homeless and devastated by the Marawi Siege; the tens
of thousands victimized by years of unabated mining, logging, militarization,
and the culture of impunity; the countless others, human beings like you and
me, who have been sacrificed in the War on Terror and the War on Drugs.
The cycles of violence, of dehumanization,
of exploitation, of disenfranchisement, of victimization have to stop. All
these are man-made which means we can unmake them. Things need to change. Now.
There should always be room. If there is none, you and I have to make sure
there is. This is what Jesus did. He
gave his life creating room for the least, the lost, and the last.
This is what we must do.
[images from cifwatch.com and desertpeace.wordpress.com]
