Many years ago on a mission trip in Haiti, our group was ministering in the isolated mountains in the west near the Dominican Republic. The village where we stayed was where the road ended. To say it was a “road” was an exaggeration.
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As Americans were complaining about all the snow this winter, arguing about the value of NPR and PBS, and learning that we suffer from an “enlargement of self,” the Japanese were dying by the thousands as solid ground gave way and the sea roiled and raged, consuming whole cities.
There is a region between home and the forbidden, states a friend and colleague of mine. It's not a border in the NRSV, but a region, an actual space that Jesus goes to. It's where the unwanted are.