There are lots of couples sleeping in the streets of NYC these days. Many of them have been together for a long time. Many are not legally married and do not have a domestic partnership, so they can’t go into a shelter together. Some have a marriage certificate, but for one reason or another are not permitted to stay in a shelter, or they choose not to.
I met a couple a few weeks back in the South Bronx named Juanita and Carlos. Apparently, ten years earlier Juanita got into a fight with another woman in the shelter where they had been placed, and as a result they were kicked out. Ever since then, whenever they try to get off the street by going through the NYC shelter intake process, something pops up on their file that gets them redirected to an exit instead of to a bed.
There’s something about their story that hits home a little harder than usual this time of year. There’s something extra significant about looking into the eyes of a young man and a young woman, bundled up, with all their earthly possessions in bags at their feet, just as the world prepares to remember the story of another young transient couple.
To say Mary and Joseph didn’t offer baby Jesus a stable living situation might be the understatement of the millennia. Born in what was probably some sort of cave where the animals escaped the elements, Jesus entered the world he helped create as a vulnerable, homeless child. The story goes that soon after his birth, his parents were forced to flee to Egypt because of political unrest that directly implicated their family. The powers that be determined that Mary, Joseph, and their son were a threat to the status quo. So dangerous, in fact, that the king viewed slaughtering all the boys born around that time in that general vicinity as a pragmatic decision in the interest of National Security. If, at that time, there had been a Relief Wagon parked along the road between Bethlehem and Egypt, serving a hot meal and offering an explanation of the emergency shelter system in Cairo, I’d like to imagine that Mary, Joseph, and little Jesus would have stopped by for some assistance.
There’s a section in the book of Matthew that a lot of Christian ministries serving the poor and the marginalized use as a foundation for the work that they do, and New York City Relief is no exception:
Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. 35For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
37“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ 40“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
So who are the brothers and sisters of Jesus? I think sometimes as Christians we can over analyze scripture to the point of meaninglessness. It’s easy to rationalize and explain away verses by bending and twisting them into some knot of ambiguity, and Christ’s birth is no exception. How else do we connect the story of homelessness, genocide, and refugees to eggnog, beautifully wrapped presents under a tree, and an overweight Caucasian man riding a magical sleigh that’s pulled by flying reindeer?
But then I look into the eyes of Juanita and Carlos and it all comes crashing back into focus. I see the family resemblance in their anxious faces. I can see a young mom overwhelmed and sleep deprived, desperate for anything to cling to. And a father who just wants to provide for his family but can’t seem to gain any traction because of circumstances beyond his control. Can you see them? They are the brothers and sisters of Jesus. They are walking the same road as Mary and Joseph, and I believe that the best way to celebrate the birth of Jesus is to walk alongside of them.
So what does that mean? I think it means that while we enjoy the blessings of family and friends this Christmas, we also need to remember that there is a job to do. We need to remember that for far too many of God’s family members Christmas is not a merry experience. As followers of The Christ born into homelessness we need to do more than just pray for the “less fortunate.” We need to be ready and willing to be the answer to their prayers.
How can you help to ensure that doors are opened and not closed on those moving from place to place this holiday season? How can you give the gift of hope to someone drowning in despair? How can you give gifts to the nephews and nieces of Jesus who are in foster care or who are fighting a terminal illness?
It’s important to not allow the scope of the problems in this world to paralyze you into complacency. I think too often we excuse ourselves from doing anything because we can’t possibly solve everything. This Christmas season, as you read the story of Mary and Joseph and the birth of our Lord, remember that they are still out there. And while we may not be able to fix their situation, we can refuse to look away and pretend like there’s nothing we can do to make it any better.
I pray that this Christmas you and I get to move beyond the false narrative of our culture and into the depths of truth found in the person of Jesus of Nazareth.
Merry Christmas!
