By Anil Netto
It’s Christmas once again. This has been a tumultuous year, as our country reels from an economic slowdown and political uncertainty. We find solace among family and friends over Christmas — at least those of us fortunate to be at home.

Not everyone can be at home though. Among us are migrant workers, refugees, and asylum seekers. Some of them could be in crowded immigrant detention camps, facing whipping or deportation; others could be in hiding.

Documented migrant workers, on the other hand, may face harassment and exploitation. They are often looked down upon because they come from poorer nations and are strangers in a foreign land, where they are seen as a source of cheap labour.

What does Christmas mean for them? Among the locals who will not be home for Christmas are those in prison and in detention camps. Others could have cut off ties with their families. Then there are family members and loved ones who are separated by the oceans and continents — abroad and unable to return home.

Yet others may be forgotten or lonely in homes for senior citizens, the disabled, orphans and the mentally ill.

Then there are those who are losing their homes in the forests as their ancestral lands are seized in the name of “development” and the trees cut down. Urban pioneers, on the other hand, could be facing eviction or they could be stuck in temporary transit homes waiting for their “compensation” of a lowor medium-cost flat, which never comes.

These are the forgotten people in the midst of our parties and celebrations. It is understandable if they are in no mood for celebration, forgotten as they are in our uncaring world.

As we gaze into the manger, what do we see? A cosy sentimental scene with Mary and Joseph and Baby Jesus, shepherds and sheep and cows and wise men and angels, all bathed with the warm glow of star-light?

Most of our cribs and nativity scenes, however, do not reflect the backdrop of harsh political and economic conditions that the people of the time lived in.

The land was under Roman Occupation with a local king as their stooge. People were living in poverty and many were being pushed into debt and destitution as their land was taken over by estate owners for cash crops. Joseph, as a carpenter or peasant artisan, and Mary, a village maiden, were probably somewhere between poverty and destitution.

This king (Herod in the Gospel) was the local representative of the forces of Empire, which was built on the back of military victory and violence.

On the other hand, the child Jesus represented a different form of Empire, a different sort of king, who was so concerned about the poor that he chose to be among the downtrodden and manifested himself among the poorest of the poor.

Jesus was born of humble parents who struggled hard to earn a living. No wonder, the Gospel of Luke records Mary as saying: 51 He has used the power of his arm, he has routed the arrogant of heart. 52 He has pulled down princes from their thrones and raised high the lowly. 53 He has filled the starving with good things, sent the rich away empty. 54 He has come to the help of Israel his servant, mindful of his faithful love.

Thus, if we look at this larger backdrop, we can see that Jesus, whom we call king, came among us to show us a kingdom that was different from those of this world. The real question is, which kingdom do we see ourselves as belonging to? We can claim we belong to the kingdom of God — but do our actions betray us? Aren’t we trying to climb the worldly ladder and submerging ourselves in materialism and consumerism while paying little attention to the need to protect Creation (including the environment) and the marginalised?

Instead of worldly power and wealth, Jesus opted to transform individuals and communities, working often from the bottom up, among the forgotten people, the downtrodden, the oppressed. He ate among them and he healed, and in the process he empowered them. Their lives were never the same again after each encounter.

As we celebrate with our friends over Christmas and share a meal, do we notice something? Those whom we invite or spend time with are often of the same social class or speak the same language we are comfortable in. How many of us would actually share a meal with a migrant worker or a street person over Christmas or any other time of the year for that matter?

But Jesus shows us a different way. He made it a point to share meals precisely with the downtrodden and those at the bottom of the social ladder. Among these bottom-ofthe- heap people, he chose followers to continue to spread the good news that the kingdom of God was among those the world looks down on: the poor and the meek and those who mourn, they are all blessed and precious in the sight of God. This was - and still is - in stark contrast to worldly kingdoms which value wealth, position and status. By sharing meals with the outcasts, Jesus broke the social barriers of his time in communities that placed great store on being ritually clean and protecting honour and reputation.

By talking to women and engaging them in discourse and embracing children, he enhanced their position and even empowered them, in a milieu where they had little status.

Now, as we face political, economic and environmental turmoil, might there not be more lessons we can glean as we look into the manger and then lift our gaze to the world around us?