Who are the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the sick, the unwelcomed, and the prisoner that Jesus challenges us to serve, to take sides with, and to love? The stranger.
Who are the widows, the orphans, the indigenous peoples, and the foreigners that, over and over, the Law and the Prophets enjoin us to care for, to hold dear, and to treat as sisters and brothers? The stranger.
Who are the daily wage earners, the laborers who survive from paycheck to paycheck, the homeless, the jobless, and the most vulnerable in a world ravaged by the pandemic that we are supposed to prioritize? Yes, the stranger.
If we read our Bibles and pray everyday, then we will grow in the realization that, most often than not, God comes as a stranger. God did when God shared the promise of Isaac's birth. God did when God judged the arrogance and inhospitality of Sodom and Gomorrah. God did when God wrestled with Jacob at Jabbok.
God came as a stranger when God was born in a manger instead of a palace; in Galilee instead of Jerusalem; among the odorized and the otherized; grew up in a mud hut instead of a white house.
God does as the Risen One: waiting for us to meet up in Galilee; reminding us that we will never be alone; calling the rich among us to sell everything we have, to give the proceeds to the poor, and to follow... In Sunday's lection, two disciples on the road to Emmaus encounter the Risen One as a complete stranger. Their eyes were eventually opened and their hearts strangely warmed when the stranger broke bread with them.
God always comes as a stranger. This is why we welcome the dispossessed, the displaced, the disenfranchised. This is why we open our homes, our churches, our spaces to Lumads, to People Living with HIV and AIDS, to refugees, to Palestinians, to those whose only hope is God.
God always comes as a stranger. This is why we always, always offer sanctuary. And these days, sanctuary can mean that extra room in our house, the available spaces in our church offices and buildings, the vacant rooms in our dormitories, and, yes, that extra bed. Safe spaces. Open hearts. Open minds. Open doors. Or five barley loaves and two fish.
*art, "Jesus appears at Emmaus," JESUS MAFA, 1973 (Cameroon), from the vanderbilt divinity library digital archives.
