But he who enters by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. To him the gatekeeper opens. The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. [John 10:2-3 (ESV)]
Brent Askari’s play, The Refugees, begins with an unusual premise. Because of a violent civil war in the United States, an upscale American family become refugees in a Middle Eastern country. When the family’s Arab social worker referred to the American refugees as “you people,” the once suburban housewife’s expression spoke volumes. In her previous Connecticut life, anyone who wasn’t white and upper middle class had been “those people” but the tables have turned and the roles reversed. Instead of being the ones with the money and advantages, her family and others like them are “those people:” a minority, seeking asylum in a new country, unfamiliar with the customs, and unable to read, write, or speak the language. Wearing clothes they once would have sent to Goodwill, they need government assistance to survive. Her once high-priced lawyer husband is now a stock boy whose boss takes advantage of his immigrant status. This family and other American refugees are as unwelcome in the unnamed Arab country as are the refugees at our border.
“Those people” is a term frequently used to draw a distinction between people like ourselves and others. Whether that difference is color, nationality, disability, sexual preference, ethnicity, sex, religion, age, politics, or social standing, that phrase usually indicates some kind of bias or discrimination, be it racism, ageism, sexism, anti-Semitism, chauvinism, xenophobia, homophobia, or some other phobia or ism. When saying “those people” or “you people,” the speaker usually is ascribing a particular quality (usually negative) to an entire group. “Those people” and “you people” doesn’t see individual faces and stories; it sees stereotypes and generalizations.
In Jesus’ day, “those people” in Palestine were beggars, lepers, tax collectors, prostitutes, the unclean, Gentiles, and Samaritans. Even Galileans, like Jesus, were “those people” to Judeans! With a reputation as trouble makers, they were disdained because of their mixed ancestry and considered uneducated because of their accent. Being one of “those people,” Jesus knew ethnic prejudice first hand.
For Jesus, however, there were no “those people.” Rather than a Samaritan woman of questionable morals, He saw a woman thirsty for His living water. Rather than a pagan Syrophoenician woman, He saw a loving mother with faith in Him. Rather than a noisy blind beggar or unclean lepers, Jesus heard people begging for God’s mercy and, instead of a collaborating publican, He saw a man desperate enough to climb a tree just to see Him. The Pharisees only saw a sinful woman, but Jesus saw a woman in need of forgiveness who showed her love for Him with her tears. Jesus didn’t see a self-righteous legalistic Pharisee when Nicodemus visited in the dead of night; He saw a man in search of the truth.
In fact, Jesus knowingly sought out “those people.” He deliberately went through Samaria when most Jews avoided it like the plague and He is the one who defied convention and started the conversation with the woman at the well. He’d gone deep into a pagan territory with a long history of opposition to Israel when He encountered the Syrophoenician woman. He openly dined with Matthew, his publican friends, and other sinners and Jesus is the one who invited Himself to dinner at the home of Zacchaeus. The Lord sailed clear across the Sea of Galilee to the Gentile region of the Gadarenes just to heal the demon-possessed! We may not know all the names of those touched by Jesus, but He did! As the Good Shepherd, He knew their names.
There were no “those people” to the Lord—every one of them was one of God’s children. It shouldn’t take becoming one of “you people” to make us understand that “those people” are people just like us—people in need of God’s love.
A century of dike-building, agricultural development, and population growth has destroyed much of Florida’s wetlands and threatened the survival of dozens of animals like Florida panthers, Snail Kites, and Wood Storks. The White Ibis, however, is an exception. Having adapted to the new urban landscape, large groups of ibis happily graze the lawns of subdivisions, parks, and golf courses. They’ve found it easier to poke at the soil for a predictable buffet of grubs, earthworms, and insects than to forage in the remaining wetlands for aquatic prey like small fish, frogs, and crayfish. Once wary of humans, these urbanized ibis pay little or no attention to people as they follow one another across our lawns.
When writing about giving God the glory and how we are but instruments of God’s grace in the world, I recalled a quote by Mother Teresa having to do with being God’s pencil. Wanting to quote it correctly, I Googled it. Along with the quote, I came across several versions of a parable about a pencil. Of unknown origin, it has been around for more than twenty years. Nevertheless, the parable was new to me and this is my version of “The Parable of the Pencil.”
It was while Jesus and the disciples were eating the Passover meal that the Lord instituted the Eucharist. The 1st century church followed His lead by celebrating the Eucharist in the context of a communal meal. The wealthier contributed the food and portions were set aside for the sick, poor, and widowed. Nourishing both body and soul while building a sense of community, these fellowship meals were known as agape or love feasts!
Pastor Chris recently shared a devotion she read in which the author gives his office globe a gentle spin each morning. After a moment or two, he places a finger on the globe, stops its revolution, and prays for the people wherever his finger lands. Chris said she’s adopted this practice but, to make it more than a quick uninformed prayer, she does some research on the country’s needs and religions to guide her petitions.
Skeptics love to ask how God could allow Jephthah to offer up his daughter as a burnt sacrifice. First, let’s note that it never says God approved of his sacrifice. In fact, Scripture makes it clear that such a sacrifice was abhorrent to the Lord. In His wisdom and mercy, God even provided a way out if someone made a rash or unrealistic vow. Leviticus 27 explains that such a vow could be purchased back with a 20% penalty and describes how valuations were to be determined. Although Jephthah displayed knowledge of Israel’s history when negotiating with the Ammonites, he showed his ignorance of God and God’s law with his rash vow. Moreover, there is no reason to think his daughter was sacrificed in the Tabernacle. It’s more likely that such a horrific event would have been part of a pagan ceremony.
Devotions of the Heart 