Our family has been in our current house now for just over three years. The day we moved in was exciting, but exhausting. So, when our heads hit the pillow that night, we were out cold. You can imagine our alarm, then, when our doorbell rang in the middle of the night. Bleary-eyed, I answered the door, only to find the doorway empty. It seems we had been the victim of a “ding dong ditch”, a practical joke in which someone rings a doorbell or knocks on a door and then quickly hides, leaving the occupants of the house frustrated and scared. Admittedly, it worked. Not only was I annoyed that someone would do this to us, especially on our very first night in our house, but I was also a bit frightened for the safety of my family, since I didn’t know the identity of the ditcher. As I would later find out, the prank was perpetrated by a group of older teen boys, one of whom was actually a resident of our neighborhood.
That experience is one of many situations from my life that helps me to have some empathy for those who express anxiety over welcoming a stranger into their home, or even just answering the door. We don’t really know what’s on the other side of the door. It’s much safer to simply not answer the door, talk through the door, or talk through a slightly opened doorway, prevented from being opened further by a chain on the door. And yet, chapter 25 from Matthew’s gospel reveals Jesus’s desire for us to be welcoming to the ‘stranger’. This was echoed in the life of St. Alphonsus Rodriguez, who, as a Jesuit brother serving as a doorkeeper in the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, was responsible for answering the door at a Jesuit school in Majorca, Spain. Each time Rodriguez would hear a knock, he would say “I’m coming, Lord!” as a way to remind him to treat everyone, especially those knocking, with Christian dignity and respect. And,since I’m certain Brother Alphonsus had his occasional concerns about the person knocking, this phrase likely served as a way to remind him to trust Jesus as well.
As with many parts of Jesus’s teachings, the one on welcoming the stranger is hard. As human beings we constantly wrestle with the notion of letting someone in, whether the ‘in’ being sought is our physical home or our figurative trust bubble. Strangers could harm us. Strangers could steal from us. Strangers could hurt the people we love. Strangers might have a negative effect on our beliefs and way of life. And while all these things are true, keeping strangers out (or even at a distance) can stunt our ability to grow as people and grow in Christ. Remember, as you read the gospels, it is often those marginalized by the community (sinners, tax collectors, the sick, strangers—aliens) that Jesus uses to effect change in those around him. And so, by keeping strangers out we may also be keeping Christ out, and in doing so, our ability to grow in faith, hope, and love.
As I write this, our nation (and many others) are struggling mightily with what to do with strangers who, through legal or illegal means, are trying to enter this country. Many Americans point to the need for strong immigration laws and solid security on our borders, sentiments I don’t necessarily disagree with. I would simply ask that we also consider our responsibilities as humans and as Christians. Many of those seeking entry into the United States are trying to escape cities and regions filled with dangerous and inhumane conditions. Many of these people are putting themselves and others in perilous situations just to have the chance at a fraction of the security and prosperity you and I enjoy. As these migrants and asylum-seekers knock on our door, I pray we will have the collective wisdom to see Christ in them, and the courage to say: “I’m coming, Lord!”
-Shannon