Can we even imagine what it must have been like for those displaced parents? Mary, impossibly pregnant; Joseph, faithfully stunned.  On the road to do what was required of them, and then, on the run for the sake of their very lives and that of their newborn son. The desperation they must have felt.  The fear.  The isolation and alienation from all who loved and supported them.  Separation from every source of love that they had known.  Lacking all safety nets.  Apart from all.  

All, that is, except God and those whose hearts were strangely stirred by God.

We like to think that, had we been there, we would have been kind and understanding.  We would have recognized the distress in Mary’s downcast eyes and heeded the anguished pleas of the tormented Joseph.  We like to think that, had we been the innkeepers, we would have given them the best room in the place and a hearty supper to boot.  We like to think that, had we been there, we would have been those whose hearts were strangely stirred by God; that we would have stepped up and stepped into the lives of those in such overwhelming need.

In truth, however, would we have?  Have our hearts become so torpefied, so hardened and numbed by the immense difficulties of these immensely difficult days that not even God has the ability to strangely stir them anymore?  Have we become so consumed with circling the wagons of our own little lives that we have lost the will to aid those who have no wagon anymore, those whose lives are simply and utterly desperate?  I wonder.

Because the stark truth of the matter is that Mary and Joseph have become, in our own time, incarnate in our midst.  Refugees from Afghanistan have come to Minnesota, desperate and in utter need of our help. The cruel vagaries of this world have dealt these families a striking blow, and they have had to flee from their homes and yield to forces far beyond their control.  And so they come to this nation and to a people with historically big hearts. They come in hope that God can still stir those very hearts into a swirl of mercy and grace.

This Sunday at St. John’s, the loose offering and specially designated checks will be given to assist Afghan refugees.  This is our chance to be part of an effort led by the deacons of our parish and diocese.  It is our opportunity to be part of the solution for desperate Afghan brothers and sisters.  It is our chance to be an answer to prayer.  

So, may our hearts be strangely stirred by the living, gracious and ever merciful God.  May we come alongside these modern-day Marys and Josephs.  And may we come to church this Sunday with cash and checks in hand ready to give to those who need a room in the inn.

~Father Art