I didn’t set out to work with refugees. I didn’t set out to run a non-profit. They weren’t goals I was striving for. Mostly I just wanted whatever God had for me. And that certainly hadn’t been the case for all of my life. In fact, most of my existence has been marked by desperate attempts to forge my own path according to my (very particular) plans. And, naturally, I felt a bit panicky when things weren’t really going the way I had always assumed they’d might.
A lot of time has been spent learning to let go. Learning to wait. Learning what calm can look like in the midst of chaos. Learning because I’m still not perfect at it. But, I’d venture to say I am better at it than I was.
Lately I’ve felt a little more panicky though. Panicky, curious, confused.
Just what is happening at this moment in our country… and why is it happening? I’m struggling to know how I can be so at odds with other professing believers in Jesus Christ. I’m struggling to know how we can stand side by side, stare at the same thing happening, and walk away with very different conclusions on right and wrong. What am I missing?
When I took my current job, I knew very very little about the refugee process in America. My exposure to the system was limited. My understanding of what/how/when/why it all happened the way it did was literally non-existent. But, I applied for and then took the job because I had been brought to a place in my studying of Scripture where I felt deeply convicted that the heart of God was for the foreigner among us. In fact, the more I read and learned, the more this truth felt undeniable — the pages of God’s word unveiling a special place for the sojourner among God’s people. “‘When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. Leave them for the poor and for the foreigner residing among you. I am the Lord your God.’” Leviticus 23:22
I see a call to believers to an eternal way of thinking – with a focus on the Kingdom of God as priority, not the here and now. And this Kingdom of God is filled with people from every tribe, every tongue, every nation (Rev 7). I see Abraham leaving his homeland, out of obedience, becoming a foreigner in a different land. I see Ruth returning with her mother-in-law, Naomi, as a foreigner, to Bethlehem and being grafted in. I see Jesus and his parents, fleeing the wrath of Herod, and living in Egypt until it was safe to return. Foreigners and refugees.
I also read this great call to love God and love our neighbors — actually the greatest commandment. I also see Jesus giving up himself – his rights – because he loved us so much… and commanding that we do likewise. To serve. To love. I see his call for unity with fellow believers in Jesus. “Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen. And he has given us this command: Anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister.” 1 John 4:20-21
I have so much more to learn about who God is, I have so much more to know about Scripture. But, I can’t shake the feeling that there is something deeply amiss among professing Christians in America right now. I fear we have gotten so consumed with being right, that we’ve forgotten what is right, and good, and holy, and pure. True religion, as James states — being doers of the Word, not just hearers. To look after the poor, the orphan, the widow. The marginalized. The foreigner. The very brother or sister you may be standing next to in the Kingdom of Heaven — the one who speaks a different language, is from a different tribe… but one who loves Jesus with all their heart, mind, and soul.
I don’t claim a political party. Red or blue is not where my allegiance lies.
I took the job I did only because I saw God’s hand in it. I had no other agenda other than obedience. No other agenda other than attempting to model what I saw Jesus doing throughout his ministry. Moving toward those who were often the most marginalized and misunderstood, despite what religious leaders thought.
I feel more panicky these days, not because I can’t control my own future, but because I wonder, often, what the words and actions of professing believers communicate to the rest of the world about who God is and his love for them. I get panicky because I hear and I see things that are shocking and feel like the very antithesis of the fruit of the Spirit. Instead of love, I see hate. Instead of joy, anger. Instead of peace, division. Instead of kindness, mean-spiritedness. Instead of goodness, a lack of integrity. Instead of faithfulness, insincerity. Instead of gentleness, harshness. Instead of self-control, impulsivity.
Brothers and sisters — how can this be?? There has to be another, different way. A way for believers to depart from political affiliations and to consider, instead, a different way. A unified way that reflects the values of the Kingdom of God…a way that holds these values as paramount. A place where we hold in common the desire to know Christ and him crucified and to consider everything else a loss next to knowing him. And letting that be a place where we let the Gospel transform every aspect of our lives. And here, we become the type of people that love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us — rather than the type of people who despise, retaliate, and name-call.
Will you join me in the quest toward unity? In the quest toward coming back together, at the foot of the cross? In the quest toward placing our pride and our desire to be right to the side and considering another as more important than ourselves? Will you join me in committing to knowing Jesus Christ and letting that shape how we live in this world and respond to the havoc around us? Will you join me in begging God to help us be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry? Will you join me in figuring out ways to stand up for Kingdom values in ways that honor God and honor others?
I still want whatever God has for me. Right now that keeps me placed working with refugees, which means I’m hearing, seeing, and responding to things I could have never imagined. Perhaps that informs my perspective in ways it won’t yours. But part of the quest toward unity means that I want to hear your side — I need to hear it to better understand you and how God is shaping you and what He is calling you to. And I hope you’re willing to hear where I’m coming from, too… and that together, and can catch greater glimpses of what His Kingdom can look like here on earth and how you and I can be citizens of heaven, together. It takes work. It takes genuine curiosity. And it takes being willing to admit when we’re wrong.
Lord, have mercy.
May you stitch up your church, may you stir up in us a longing for unity as a body, may you show us how to love You and love others. And may this world, for all of eternity, look radically different as a result. Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done. On earth, as it is in heaven. Amen.