Friday, December 11

Hawaii Opera Theater is currently offering an online performance of the classic tale, “Amahl and the Night Visitors.” It’s been a favorite Christmas story of mine ever since I played the part of one of the Magi in a grade school production. While my performance has faded from memory, the plot of this operetta remains compelling. The story is one of intrusion. The Bethlehem star intrudes upon the usual night sky. The three Magi intrude upon the home of Amahl and his mother to seek rest. The disease that has caused Amahl to use a crutch to walk is an intrusion. Being caught stealing the Magi’s gold by Amahl’s mother is an intrusion into the quiet night. But the greatest intrusion is one that is miraculous. It is the intrusion of the grace and love of God into Amahl’s life after he offers his only possession, his crutch, as an offering to Christ. For Amahl, it is the intrusion of healing.

We often think of intrusions as negative experiences. A person intrudes upon my time – clueless that my personal schedule is my daily canon. Strangers intrude my space, violating my six-foot bubble. Maskless violators intrude upon my health. What about the car in the lane next to me with blaring music and pounding bass? That’s got to be an intrusion of some kind.

The new commandment of Jesus to love God and to love neighbor as yourself was an intrusion upon the habits of the first century religious elite. To ask water from a Samaritan woman at the well of Jacob was an intrusion by Jesus into social and religious boundaries. The power of Jesus as the resurrection and life was an intrusion upon the assumptions held by Mary, Martha, and the mourners at Lazarus’ grave. That Jesus himself rose from the dead was an intrusion upon the theological conservatism of the Sadducees. Paul’s venture into the Gentile world with an expansive and generous gospel was an intrusion upon the elders of Jerusalem, the stubborn Judaizers, and pagan Rome.

I consistently see God working through the intrusions of life. Jeanie and I would not have moved back to Hawaii were it not for the intrusion of illness, death, and mental disability in our family. Moreover, I experienced the intrusion of depression for two years upon our return. But after these two years, we were ready to adopt a child. Although available children were scarce, we began the process of applying to become adoptive parents through Catholic Charities. At the same time, the intrusion of crystal meth was destroying lives, including mothers and their newborns. Through God’s grace and love, this intrusion gifted us with hope. While still in the application process, we suddenly received word that a newborn infant at Queen’s whose mother tested positive for crystal meth, was immediately available for adoption. Having presented this opportunity to the many couples before us, the opportunity came to us, the last on the list. In the upside-down world of Jesus, the last do become first. Thirty years ago we adopted our daughter and named her Joy. Her intrusion of joy in our lives continues. On a redemptive note, for many years she has maintained a positive relationship with her birth mother, who is thriving today as a drug counselor to at-risk youth.

Intrusions are difficult. But they are neither unsurpassable nor unredeemable. Patience has much to do with recognizing and waiting for the grace and love of God to change us, and ultimately transform us. I am deeply grateful for the community of faith that gathers as St. Mark’s. We have received generous greeting and warm hospitality since we began to attend now almost a year. This is our thanksgiving during Advent. So even as the intrusion of the pandemic remains, our hope is that we can continue to give each other strength for the journey we are on together.

Randy Furushima