Ezekiel 34: 15-16: “I myself will tend my sheep and have them lie down, declares the Sovereign Lord. I will search for the lost and bring back the strays. I will bind up the injured and strengthen the weak, but the sleek and the strong I will destroy. I will shepherd the flock with justice.”
The picture above, titled José y Maria, is Everett Patterson’s depiction of what a modern Joseph and Mary might look like. Standing in the rain outside a convenience store, haloed in fluorescent light and advertisements, the young couple searches for a place to stay. There’s no vacancy at the motel in the background and José despairingly pages through the phone book. Maria perches, exhausted and in pain, on the back of a broken-down penny horse. As we wait through the Advent season for the coming of a new light, the picture is a grim reminder of the plight many people face all year.
The United States has a long history of denying entrance to immigrants seeking asylum. We resisted the influx of Irish Catholics fleeing starvation from the potato famine; we refused to accommodate Jewish refugees escaping from Nazi persecution in Germany, even going so far as to send people back; and we imprisoned Japanese immigrants and citizens of Japanese descent in internment camps after Pearl Harbor. What’s more, the United States’ treatment of the only truly “non-immigrant” people, the many Native American tribes, in this country has been even worse than the treatment of immigrants. In broad terms, as far as being a compassionate and Christ-like nation, the US is 0 for 4.
While Mary and Joseph weren’t fleeing from persecution when they traveled to Bethlehem, they soon became refugees when Herod called for the slaughter of all male children in Bethlehem under two years old. Joseph, Mary, and baby Jesus were forced to escape to Egypt. At that time, Egypt was under the control of the Roman empire, and therefore beyond Herod’s control. Who better fits the commonly understood definition of a refugee - someone who has been forced to leave their country in order to escape from war, persecution, or natural disaster - than a family with a young child escaping from a tyrannical leader out for blood?
If this story were to take place now and the Holy Family attempted to enter the United States to escape persecution, it is highly likely they would face many difficulties. Recent events at the US-Mexico border prove that, compared to what most families currently experience, being turned away may be the more favorable outcome. It is not unreasonable, then, to picture the Holy Family as one of the countless refugee families seeking a safer life beyond our borders.
Everett Patterson writes at the end of his post about José y Maria, “A word on perspective: for this image, I chose very, very wide vanishing points. The result is what I occasionally call 'middle-class white people perspective.' Rather than feeling immersed in the scene, the viewer is looking at it as if from across the street or from the warmth and safety of his or her passing car. I have a small hope that this Christmas image will come to mind when we see other 'down and out' people huddling outside of gas stations, reminding us that our Savior’s parents (and indeed, Jesus himself) were at one time similarly troubled.” It’s important to remember, as we wait for Jesus’ coming, that those who are lost, scared, rejected, and forgotten are the ones who most need our compassion. What we do to and for the least of these we do to, and for, God.
There are at least 15 biblical references in the painting above; see how many you can find. If you would like to view the full blog post about the picture, click here.
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