Christian Living

---

I’m part of the world of strangers and straphangers on the F-train from Queens to Manhattan. At the Roosevelt Avenue Station, a crowd surges through the open door. A woman’s angry voice explodes, “Can’t you see there’s no more room? Where do you think you are? China?” I can’t see but I can certainly feel the hostility in the message that mars my Monday morning. You’re a foreigner. You don’t belong here. I imagine the hurt piercing a heart like mine. I recall my own experiences with the duplicity of a strained answer, and the insincerity of a frozen smile, or cold eyes.

The subway door closes on the silence of indifference. Perhaps it’s such a frequent occurrence that no one really hears or cares anymore. In any crowd, negative feelings erupt under stress. There’s the likelihood of some antagonism or outright aggression during the rush hour. My heart goes out to the silent Asian and I pray for healing for all of us; and for a nation perpetuating hurt by erecting walls with messages that say, “Keep out.”

There’s a wild bush that grows along the grassy slopes in Jamaica, called Shame Old Lady. Its leaves fold over and close up when you touch them—like commuters who fold up and cocoon themselves in a magazine or newspaper to avoid eye contact. We sometimes forget that the richness and diversity we enjoy, we owe to foreigners who emigrated here for a better life. Someone welcomed them, gave them a chance to make a difference, and we all benefit from that.

The xenophobia of that subway incident is reenacted everyday when we bypass the homeless and avoid the mentally troubled souls who stumble in the streets seeking for deliverance from their demons. But Jesus, the teacher, healer, and retired carpenter reversed the tide of exclusivity with two favorite words: well…come. To his twelve disciples, a motley crew including fishermen, zealots, and a tax collector he said, “Well, come. Follow me.” To the blind, lame, demon-possessed, he said, “Come. I will make you well.” To the prostitute sentenced to death by stoning and the despised Samaritan woman living in an illicit relationship, he said, “Come. I don’t condemn you. I offer you a better life.”

To the crowds who followed him, Jesus said, “Come and listen. I have life-giving words.” When they got hungry, he didn’t say, “Go away. Get something to eat.” Instead, he instructed his disciples to have them sit in groups so they could eat. The Galilean teacher saw humans hungry for something more fulfilling in their lives. He saw strangers lost in the thoroughfare of life and stuck in ruts of dissatisfaction. He reached out to rescue them with words of healing and hope.
The story is told that one day Jesus and his disciples were on their way to Jerusalem, a village on the border of Samaria and Galilee. Jesus stopped to listen. He heard the faint cry, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” Jesus shielded his eyes from the hot afternoon sun to focus on ten deformed faces. Sores had scarred their healthy skin that showed various stages of deterioration. In their eyes, Jesus saw desperation. He responded, “Go show yourselves to the priests.” Those men must have felt the miracle without the evidence of a reflecting surface to give them solid proof. As soon as Jesus uttered the words, they started walking towards the temple.

The story doesn’t end there. After their miraculous healing, only the Samaritan returned to thank Jesus. The outcast, despised as a half-breed, went back to express his gratitude for a second chance at life. Jesus didn’t change who he was. He changed who he would become. He gave him a hope and a future.
How often do we forget to say thanks? Do we often feel a sense of entitlement to our blessings and take them for granted? God has blessed us in order to bless others, in particular the stranger among us. She’s standing at a distance, eyes pleading, “Help me!” She’s shivering under a too-thin blanket, her only shelter against the fury of the night winds.

When we welcome the stranger, whether on the street corner or the subway train, we are authenticating our faith. The Bible says, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave or free, male or female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (Gal. 3:28 NIV) We all have the equal opportunity to serve God with deliberate acts of kindness, to break down the walls of separation, and to include those who are different. We’re all equal and precious in God’s sight.

*********
Jennifer Heron is a writer, speaker, and teacher with over twenty-five years of ministry. She describes herself as a servant leader and currently teaches workshops on spiritual journaling. She is a member of Christian Writers Fellowship International and the International Women Writers Guild. She has published poetry and inspirational articles online and in local newsletters. She is married with two adult children.

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE