“When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong. The stranger who sojourns with you shall be to you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Lev 19,33-34).
What has inspired me to write this Sunday’s article is an experience I lived two Sundays ago in Valletta. A priest from the Czech Republic, whom I made friends with in Rome, was in Malta for a few days. Given that his line of work involves dialogue with Eastern Orthodox Christians, we looked for a place where the Sunday liturgy is celebrated by Orthodox Christians.
Coincidentally, we found a notice on Facebook that the Serbian community in Malta meets at 7.30am in St Roque’s church, Valletta. Expecting to find only a handful of people at such an early hour for a Sunday, we found a lively community gathered in this small church that has been leased to them. Not knowing a word in Serbian but able to understand what was taking place, we respectfully stood at the back in prayer.
When liturgy was over, like strangers in a foreign land, we went up to the priest and introduced ourselves. To our amazement we were both invited to join the priest together with his community of Serbian compatriots for a coffee.
The spontaneous conversations that sprouted on that Sunday morning were the fruit of reciprocal trust and the certainty that in Christ we are brothers and sisters. What are the chances that you would share a personal conversation with a stranger whom you met just an hour before? Very few, considering how easily we segregate ourselves as “us” and “them”, and how quickly we label all those different from us as “strangers”.
With non-Maltese residents now counting in the thousands, we realise that many strangers have made it to our land, and to varying degrees they now call this country “home”. If you listen carefully while taking a stroll on one of the many promenades on the island, you will notice how diverse we have become but also how demarcated our boundaries have remained.
The beckoning question then is: “Who is the stranger in your life?”. Perhaps it is a parent of one of your child’s classmates, the waiter who serves you in the restaurant or the nurse that tends to your care in hospital. Perhaps the stranger is ironically one of your blood relatives, who for some reason or another has become estranged to you. Or maybe it is your neighbour whom you have decided to ignore and keep at arm’s length. Finally, you may also have become a stranger unto yourself, in a phase in your life where everything has been turned upside down and nothing feels familiar anymore.
Befriending the stranger is an arduous and risky experience. It is surely not for the mediocre and those who have decided to settle in their comfort zones. Befriending the stranger also means giving space, concrete possibilities and a second chance beyond my first impressions. It also means recognising that I have also once been a stranger, that when I was his enemy, God loved me unconditionally.
Fr Alexander Zammit, member, Missionary Society of St Paul