Don Friesen
The sixteenth Prime Minister of Canada, a journalist, politician, statesman, businessman, university professor, lawyer and judge, remains the youngest-ever leader of a major federal party in the history of Canadian politics. Charles Joseph Clark (1939-) won the leadership of his party at the age of thirty-six. A relatively unknown Member of Parliament, his rise to the rank of Leader of the Opposition took Canadians by surprise. The Toronto Star captured our surprise with a headline that read "Joe Who?" (February 23, 1976) The nickname stuck with Joe Clark for years, and became a shorthand way of diminishing or dismissing him.
To have no name, or only part of a name is to be no one special. It's like those letters we receive in the mail addressed, "To whom it may concern". Similarly, correspondence addressed to the occupant, or the resident, is not the kind of mail that gets us all excited. Who wants to be a no-name neighbour?
In the Dr. Seuss book, Horton Hears a Who! (1954), Who-ville becomes the place where all those who are nameless, diminished, and dismissed take up residence. The Old Testament psalms say that God "remembers that we are (but) dust" (Psalm 103:14), but those resident in Who-ville are considered even less significant than a "speck of dust". It's a city of no-bodies! The citizens of Who-ville are invisible to most people, and their voice is not heard.
Biblical Citizens of Who-ville
Included among the citizens of Who-ville are a number people mentioned in the Bible, like widows, orphans, the poor, the unclean, and strangers. No legal provision was made for the maintenance of widows, for example. They were left dependent on relatives and acts of charity. The plight of widows, as the Scriptures recount it, includes mourning, of course, but also loneliness (Lamentations 1:1), disillusionment and bitterness (Ruth 1:20-21), and poverty (Ruth 1:21; 1 Kings 17:7-12; Job 22:9), if not indebtedness. (2 Kings 4:1) Her inheritance rights minimal, a widow represented the poorest of the poor (Job 24:3; 31:16; Isaiah 10:2) in the social structure of the day. She was, literally, in a "no-man's land," leaving her vulnerable to exploitation.
The orphan in biblical times fared no better. The father was responsible for the economic support of his family in the ancient Near East; his absence left his wife and children in a vulnerable position. (2 Kings 4:1-7) Orphans and widows are often mentioned together in the Scriptures, as the epitome of society's poor and deprived.
There are a lot of orphans and widows in Who-ville, and today's Gospel introduces yet another set of nameless Who's – children. In the ancient world abandonment of children, especially infants, was a normal practice. (Joel Marcus, "Counting Diamonds," The Christian Century, August 30-September 6, 2000) The offspring of parents who could not support them were left dependent upon the kindness of strangers to save them from a life of misery. A third of live births ended in death, two-thirds of the children who lived died before the age of sixteen. Disease and lack of hygiene wiped out two-thirds of the child population. Some ancient cultures also denigrated the children who lived as next to useless. During a famine children were the last to be fed, and in the event of a fire they were to be the last to be rescued! (Jim Mueller, Göttinger Predigten) Children were invisible in ancient times.
It reminds me of the passage in Matthew's Gospel that refers to "the least of these". Matthew uses the phrase in a positive context, saying that Jesus regards those who have compassion upon those considered "the least of these" have, in essence, taken compassion on Jesus! (Matthew 25:40) The phrase, "the least of these," is also translated, in the Contemporary English Version, for example, as, "Whenever you did it for any of my people, no matter how unimportant they seemed, you did it for me." (25:40, CEV) Other translations refer to the "least important" (25:40, NIRV), "the humblest" (25:40, PHL), and "the smallest" (25:40, WWE) Sounds like just the kind of people who are relegated to the city of Who-ville!
Some Disciples Wanted to Move out of Who-ville
Some of Jesus' disciples felt as if they were living in Who-ville, and they wanted out! Their property values were plummeting, and they were surrounded by no-bodies! Anyone who was anybody lived elsewhere! Several of them were walking around, grumbling, "I coulda been somebody! I coulda been a contender!" (Marlon Brando, in On The Waterfront, 1954) Aware of their murmuring, Jesus waited until they were indoors in Capernaum, and then he asked his disciples, "What were you arguing about?" (Mark 9:33) There was an awkward silence. One translation says, "The silence was deafening – (because) they had been arguing with one another over who among them was greatest." (Mark 9:34, The Message) Strutting about, and saying, "I'm the greatest! And you're not!!"
Unbelievable! Jesus had just spoken about the downward trajectory of his ministry (Mark 9:30-32), and the disciples are fixed on orders of ascendancy! I doubt they intended Jesus to hear their arguing, and hopefully they were embarrassed when Jesus called them on the carpet. Unintentionally, the situation turned into a competition to determine whom among them was the most pathetic! And Jesus had to explain, once more, that they weren't anywhere near the ballpark of discipleship! Who's on first? Not you! Mark tells us that Jesus "sat down" (9:35), probably because this was going to take too long to do while standing, and he said to them, "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all."
Then Jesus did a most striking thing: "He took a little child and put it among them; and taking (the child) in his arms, he said to them, ‘Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me....'" (9:36-37) Amazing! Children were the "least" among them, the "least important" (25:40, NIRV), "the smallest" (25:40, WWE), of little or no significance! Children were without status. There was nothing to be gained from showcasing a kid, but Jesus took one of these smallest, least important persons – a kid from Nobody Street in Who-ville – and set that kid up as exemplary for his adult disciples! It was a profound, counter-cultural act.
James: No Room for Selfish Ambition among Disciples
It's too bad that the first disciples aren't here this morning, because they would have been even more embarrassed after hearing our reading from the book of James, which points out that there's no room for these silly "conflicts and disputes" (James 4:1) among Christian disciples. There's no room for "bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts" (3:14), no room for "boastful(ness)" (3:14), he writes. No room for "cravings that are at war within you". (4:1) No room for your "covet(ousness)". (4:2) No room for preoccupation with "your pleasures". (4:3) Instead, says James, I recommend "gentleness born of wisdom" (3:13), "the wisdom from above," which is "pure, ...peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy". (3:17) A veritable "harvest of righteousness ...sown in peace". (3:18)
I'm not surprised that James would encourage us to relate to others "without a trace of partiality". (James 3:17) It's James, after all, who tells the hilarious story (2:1-4) of the two people who visited a church, the one visitor dressed in fine clothing, adorned with fine accessories, expensive jewellery and such, and the other visitor garbed in grubby clothes and in dire need of a bath! And James warns us that if we take undue notice of the elegant dresser, and ignore the visitor who cannot afford to dress well, relegating him or her to the Who-ville section of the sanctuary, then we have sinned! We "blaspheme that honourable name by which (we) are called," says James. (2:7, PHL)
The Scriptures like to add another twist to these types of situations, the element of surprise. The book of Hebrews urges us to practise hospitality, even to strangers, who also live in a Who-ville neighbourhood. "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." (Hebrews 13:2, RSV) That's a wonderful phrase, reminiscent of the time when Abraham and Sarah extended exceptional hospitality to three strangers, quite unaware that these strangers were emissaries of God! (Genesis 18)
Welcoming Strangers is Risky
The Scriptures encourage us to welcome the stranger, but they recognize that there's risk involved. Some of the proverbs, for example, are cautionary about strangers. One proverb tells us that to "guarantee loans for a stranger brings trouble, ...there is safety in refusing to do so." (Proverbs 11:15) If you've got lots of water on your land, says another proverb, "let them be for yourself alone, and not for (the) strangers with you." (5:16-17) And there's a rather rude exchange in the Apocrypha, where a host tells his guest, "Be off, stranger, for an honoured guest is here; my brother has come for a visit, and I need the guest-room." (Sirach 29:27)
The Bible cautions us concerning strangers, but the overwhelming weight is on the side of hospitality, and in many places rude hosts, or those who refuse to extend hospitality to strangers, or those who have treated strangers harshly, are upbraided. (Wisdom of Solomon 19:13-15) The Old Testament is generous in pleading for the welfare of the stranger, perhaps because the Hebrew people realized that they themselves were, in their own words, "few in number, of little account, and strangers in the land". (1 Chronicles 16:19)
Hospitality was also very important in the Early Church, and keep in mind that it was an underground church, a persecuted church, which made it very risky to admit strangers into your meeting. We're no longer an underground church, but we're even more suspicious of strangers. Strangers are strange to us! We don't know them. They could be planning a home invasion! When strangers come to our door we try to size them up. Is this a friend or a foe? We look for clues, and cues. Is this another belligerent Direct Energy salesman? We look intently at their faces; is that a friendly look on their faces? What will I do if they're not friendly? How far away is the telephone? We assume strangers are dangerous and the onus is on them to disprove it. We keep a careful eye on our luggage when we travel. When we're out walking, we check and re-check the location of our wallets.
Dorothy once invited two strangers – young women – into our home and while she went to get them the glass of water they had requested, they stole her purse! There's risk involved in welcoming strangers – but – there's also a risk that we might miss Jesus! Jesus often travels incognito, and while we're intently examining the face of a stranger for reasons to be fearful, we might also look for hints that this is someone sent by God. We might be entertaining angels unawares! We might be giving that cup of cold water to our Lord himself! Would we recognize him?
The Invisible Citizens of Our-ville
Two years ago The Washington Post set up an experiment to discover whether people recognize quality when they see it. The Post arranged with a young violinist to dress in jeans, T-shirt, and baseball cap and to play his violin near a busy Washington subway station. It was a cold January morning, and for 45 minutes he played six Bach pieces. This was during rush hour, so over a thousand people passed him on their way to work. Eventually someone took notice of the musician, slowed his pace for a few seconds, but then hurried on. A minute later, the violinist received his first tip; a woman threw in a dollar, but without stopping. A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to the music, but presently looked at his watch and walked on.
The one who paid the most attention to the violinist was a 3-year-old boy, but at his mother's abrupt urging the child moved on. The same thing happened with several other children. Only six people stopped and stayed for a while. Twenty people gave him money but threw it down without disrupting their normal pace. The violinist collected $32.17. When he stopped playing, no one seemed to notice the silence. No one applauded, at any time.
Thirty-two dollars in forty-five minutes. The violinist's name is Joshua David Bell, and two days earlier he had sold out the Boston Symphony Hall, where fairly good seats went for $100. On the street that day Bell played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, on a 300-year-old Stradivarius worth much more than any one of us make in a year.
Bell played incognito in a metro station as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and the priorities of people, in part to see whether we recognize talent in an unexpected context, dressed in unusual apparel. (Gene Weingarten, "Pearls before Breakfast," The Washington Post, April 8, 2007) Sure, he plays good, but he's just a street urchin busker who's come over from Who-ville for the day. How good can he really be?!? If we don't have a moment, or sufficient awareness, to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the most exquisite music ever written, how many other things are we missing?
If the citizens of Who-ville could not be seen or heard by those who considered themselves much more important, perhaps there are also citizens of Our-ville who are invisible to us. For example, whom do we welcome into our circle with great enjoyment? Whom do we greet with a poker face, happy to see them disappear? Whom do we greet with affection? Whom do we brush off? Do we welcome the person who has a radically different view of the world, politics, and values? Do we hear them? Do we even listen?
Learn to Look for, and Hear a Who
Horton, the humble elephant, lost track of the people of Who-ville, for they lived on a speck of dust, which Horton had hidden "on a very soft clover," and the troublesome Wickersham Brothers had hidden that clover in a "great patch of clovers a hundred miles wide!" And Horton, who was committed to the motto that "a person's a person, no matter how small," searched and searched that patch, until he had looked at 2,999,999 clovers without finding them. Then...
May we develop an eye for those who are invisible in our society, those, like the poor, who are hidden away in their communities of poverty.
May we cultivate an ear for the disregarded voices of the "least," the "unimportant," the "least important," "the humblest," and "the smallest" among us and beyond us.
May we remove from our hearts any "trace of partiality".
And may we, like Abraham and Sarah, extend gracious hospitality to the stranger, never knowing when we are entertaining angels unawares, and always remembering that each of us, in turn, may be the incognito Christ to others. AMEN
... he found them at last!
The Gospels encourage us, not only to extend hospitality to strangers, to the "least" among us, the "unimportant," the "least important," "the humblest," and "the smallest," they encourage us to go out of our way to do so. That's the lesson of Jesus' Parable of the Good Samaritan, who gave extended care to the wounded stranger at the side of the road. (Luke 10:25-37) That's the lesson of the Good Shepherd who had ninety-nine sheep in the fold, but upon discovering that one was missing went out to search for it. (Luke 15: 1-7)
On the three millionth flower!
May we have such a heart of compassion that we go out of our way to welcome and care for the stranger.
Quotations of Scripture are from the New Revised Standard Version, unless otherwise noted.