Seeing and recognizing are not the
same thing. Some years ago, a friend of
mine baptized a Hispanic family. As you
know, Methodists usually baptize people inside the church building. But on this occasion they gathered by the
river. The family, dressed in white,
entered the water and the pastor dunked them three times in the name of the
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. After they
came out of the water, the pastor handed them their baptismal certificates and
they all returned to the church for a party.
What none of them knew was that everything that had happened by the
banks of that river had been seen by two men.
On the following day, these two men arrived at the pastor's office to
ask him a question: Do you "fix" papers?
These two men had thought that the baptismal certificate was a Green
Card, an immigration document. The two
men had seen what had happened by the river but did not recognize. Seeing and recognizing are not the same
thing.
The stories that we read in the
Church during the Easter season give us several examples of people who see but
do not recognize. Consider Mary
Magdalene. Mary Magdalene knew
Jesus. She knew his power; the power
that had cleansed her from seven demons.
She knew his voice; the voice that spoke to her saying: your sins are
forgiven. She even knew his feet; the
feet which she had washed with her tears.
Mary Magdalene knew Jesus, but when she saw him by the side of that
empty tomb, she did not recognize Jesus.
The disciples in today's gospel reading know Jesus. They know he was from Nazareth.
They know that he was a prophet might in word and deed. They know how he died. They have heard rumors of his rising. They know Jesus, but when they see Jesus on
the road to Emmaus, they do not recognize Jesus. Seeing and recognizing are not the same
thing.
In the stories of the apparitions
of the risen Christ, Jesus plays hide and seek with his disciples. The separation of seeing from recognizing has
a pedagogical purpose. After the
resurrection it is no longer possible to know Jesus from a human point of
view. The forty days of Easter
apparitions pose a very important question for us. The question is not: Do you know Jesus? But, do you recognize Jesus? It does you no good to know Jesus, if you do
not recognize him when he appears before you.
On the way to Emmaus, Jesus
teaches his disciples to recognize him under different figures. He teaches them to recognize him in the
word. All things written in the Bible
are about Jesus. All? Even Leviticus and Isaiah? All.
He teaches them to recognize him in the breaking of the bread. Let me say this. The pulpit and the table go together. Worship without communion is incomplete
worship. He teaches them to recognize
him in the neighbor. It is no mere
coincidence that those two sad disciples see Jesus as a stranger.
I read to you Luke 24:18 again,
"Are you the only "paroikos" in Jerusalem
who does not know what has happened here in these days? The key word is the Greek word
"paroikos". This extremely important
term is usually translated as foreigner.
Abraham lived in the promised land as a "paroikos". Moses lived in Midian as a "paroikos". Israel's
time in Egypt
was a time of "paroikia". The "paroikos"
is not a tourist. The "paroikos" is a
stranger, a refugee, a migrant, an alien.
The time of "paroikia" is not a vacation. It is a time of suffering, a time of
exile. This important word appears again
in Peter's first letter where he exhorts Christians to "live in reverent fear
during the time of their "paroikia" (1 Peter 1:17).
In this world, Jesus is a
"paroikos", a migrant, an alien.
Why? Because he is a son of
Abraham. His people are a pilgrim
people, a dispersed people, a persecuted people. They are persecuted because they speak
differently, because they eat differently, because they pray differently.
In this world, Jesus is a
"paroikos", a migrant, an alien.
Why? Because he is a son of
Adam. Adam and Eve were deported from
the garden of Eden because they had accumulated a bad record of sins. Now all their children live alienated from
their natural state.
In this world, Jesus is a
"paroikos", a migrant, an alien.
Why? Because Jesus is in this
world, but he is not of this world. Even
though the world was made through him, he is not from here. Jesus came from above, and he lives his life
longing for the hour when he can return to his Father.
In this world, Jesus is a
"paroikos", a migrant, an alien, and undocumented. Jesus did not have a valid birth
certificate. Mother's name: Mary;
Father's name: unknown. In fact, Jesus
had no papers in his name, no title deed, no rental contract. Nothing.
"Foxes have dens, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man
has nowhere to rest his head."
In this world, Jesus is a
"paroikos", a migrant, an alien, an undocumented, an illegal. Jesus died for illegals. He died to offer amnesty to a mass of
sinners. Jesus died among illegals. He was crucified between two criminals by the
hands of many criminals. Jesus died like
an illegal. He died outside the gate,
accursed under the law.
In this world, Jesus is a
"paroikos", a migrant, an alien, an undocumented, an illegal, and therefore we
need to learn to recognize him when we see the illegal alien. Yes, we need to recognize Jesus in the
preaching of the word, but not only here.
We need to recognize Jesus in the celebration of communion, but not only
there. We need to recognize Jesus in the
encounter with the neighbor, especially the illegal neighbor.
Christians who do not recognize
Jesus in the illegal do not know Jesus.
This is the lesson of Emmaus, but there is another one. Christians who do not recognize Jesus in the
illegal do not know themselves. This is
the lesson of 1Peter.
In his letter, Peter exhorts
Christians to "live in reverent fear during the time of your "paroikia"". In this world, the Christian has no true
homeland. In this world, the history of
Christianity is the history of a long, long exile. In this world, Christians live outside of
themselves, in the world but not of the world.
In this world to be a Christian is to be a "paroikos", a migrant, an
alien, an undocumented, an illegal.
Peter's message is this: Christians are illegal but they are not
criminal.
To those of you are who are
undocumented I say this: do not become used to lying. Many use fake papers. Many falsify their identities. May it not be so with you. Live in an honest manner. Do not abuse the system that abuses you. Repay its evil with good. In this world, Jesus was illegal but without
sin.
To those of you who are documented
I say this: do not despise the word amnesty.
In today's society, there are many who treat the word amnesty as a bad
word. Many reject any display of mercy
toward the undocumented as something unjust.
May it not be so with you.
Remember the words of the Lord's Prayer:
"Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against
us". Do not demand justice without
mercy, for with the same measure with which you judge, you shall be
judged. Do not become angry with the
undocumented person next to you because Jesus is not ashamed to call him
brother, sister.
To both of you I say this: "live
in reverent fear during the time of your "paroikia"", the time of being
illegal. Do not fear those who have the
power to take away your job and deport you to Mexico. Fear the one who has the power to take away
your life and deport you to hell. Do not
be afraid that the Hispanic population is growing too much too quickly and that
you can no longer recognize your country.
Rather, live in reverent fear so that it does not come to pass that when
the judge of the living and the dead comes he sees you but does not recognize
you.
Seeing and recognizing are not the
same thing. It does me no good to know
Jesus, if I do not recognize him when I encounter him. It does me no good to recognize Jesus, if I
recognize Jesus when I encounter him, but he does not recognize me. It seems to me that too many times those of
who know Jesus are more foolish and slower of heart to recognize him than those
who do not know him. Perhaps our eyes
are closed because we are asleep, or perhaps our eyes are closed because we are
pretending to be asleep.
So perhaps those two men who saw
that baptism recognized more of what was happening than the ones getting
baptized. I imagine those men leaving
the pastor's office with their eyes open and their heart burning. I imagine one of them saying to the other:
Truly, crossing the Rio Grande
is nothing next to crossing the waters of baptism. What really matters is not whether one is a
wetback but whether one is a wet-head, a head wet in the name of the Father,
Son, and Holy Spirit. I imagine his
companion replying: I learned a little bit of Greek in Mexico (why
not?). The word parish comes from the
Greek word "paroikia". That means that,
in this world, parochial life is illegal life.
I imagine both of these men leaving that church as witnesses of
something that we know but do not always recognize: this world is not the only
world.
The Church is not a colony of
resident aliens. No. The Church is a van full of illegals crossing
the border to travel to the true north, up, the kingdom of God,
because as Paul says, "our citizenship is in heaven".
In this crossing, this exodus,
there are barriers. There are sins that
give away our illegality. There are
minutemen patrolling the border. There
are deserts full of all sorts of venomous creatures. There are mountains, walls, radars,
checkpoints. Everything says, no
trespassing. Everything says, go back. Everything says, danger. But thanks be to God, there is someone who
says: follow me. Thanks be to God, there
is someone who says: fear not, I have conquered the world. Thanks be to God, there is someone who knows
all the back roads and ways because he himself is the way. That someone is Jesus, my brother, the van
driver, our good coyote. I hope you know
him. Even more, I hope you recognize
him. I hope he recognizes you.