XVIII A Proper Welcome for Refugees

“I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” With these words Jesus put himself in the lives of refugees. 

The pivotal word is “welcomed.” To get the full meaning, we must let the Greek tell us more. It uses two words for welcome: go and with. If we put the two translations together, he is saying, “You welcomed me into your home.”  The proper welcome for refugees moves well beyond housing and subsidies. 

Let’s imagine new refugees welcomed into our home. There, a relaxed and safe atmosphere pervades around a table. We ask what they most want. Immediately comes their response—to tell us their story! When they sense that we will listen, they start. What unfolds is their trauma, lanced and now disburdened.

That is the “welcome” they have needed—to find people who will allow them to retrace the horrors on their journey; to find compassion that lets the sorrow and anger spew out; to find acceptance that honors their dignity and their future. That is why the disclosures around the table hold such value to them.

Their trauma is really a garbage pit, a stench-filled inferno where are found the wickednesses visited on this caste of supposed bottom-dwellers. The cruelties are unimagined by us, for they are out of our sight. Consider what we might hear:

Separation: Their family sent them away—away from warfare or hunger, sent away from those they loved, parted perhaps permanently. 

Shock: No itinerary prepared them for the dangers, the strange expectations of each port or station. Nothing they encountered resembled what they left at home. So strange, and often so irreverent.

Refusal: More than a border that refuses entry, the border guards treat them like vermin, unclean and unwanted. “Go back. We don’’t want you.” This was more than refusal—this was disgrace, insult, and ridicule.

Abuse: They survived an open-ended season for this. The forms of abuse reflect savage rules for those with power or authority. And the refugee knows not to expect justice or revenge.

Emotions emptied: No one hears and no one cares what goes on inside them. Yet the sorrow, the fear, the despair kept digging until they left a void. How hard to press on when the purpose is so ephemeral.

Years: How long will this take? How many times to wire more money to someone somewhere? Where will the next stop be, and what will happen to us there? All with the ever-loosening connection with home.

Loneliness: For single refugees, there are no friends, only temporary traveling companions. For families, the binding gets tighter and tighter, for trustworthy people are scarce.

Another Greek word carries the import of this welcoming experience: catharsis.

In 2018 Constance and I traveled to several refugee ministries in Europe. We met some refugees and heard stories that have stayed with us. Here are just four:

A family from Iran was in Athens, awaiting documents for passage to England. They had two sons, both sharp, intelligent, and athletic. Due to lacking documents and friends, they lived alone. With great sadness, our interpreter told us how these boys had simply lost three years of schooling and of their childhood, years that would never be replaced.

A woman told how she walked the final stretch from Serbia into Greece. It was winter.  In the last two days she had no feeling in her feet. She made the observation that if she had died along the way, no one would have known or cared.

In the anarchist area of Athens we visited a large building that housed three families. One of them was so stunned from their ordeal that they chose to pass their days alone, pulling themselves together to face the unknown future.

I heard this story through a Syrian Christian. A Turkish man was converted through this man. Later he was jailed but kept his faith, eagerly sharing with others in jail. One night the Turk telephoned the Syrian Christian, speaking very loudly. When asked why he was shouting, he explained it this way: In the cell were several Moroccan inquirers, but they did not speak Turkish or Syrian. A Moroccan who spoke Syrian borrowed a phone and asked the Christian to explain Christ’s sacrifice for our sins. The Moroccan held the phone up and translated, so all the others in the cell could hear. And that during the quarantine.

These refugees came to European countries and found solace and sanctuary at several ministries. In spite of much darkness, the Holy Spirit sought the lost and brought life. Here are some of the places where we knew he was present: 

Lesvos Island and Moria: This Greek island lies about four miles from the Turkish coast. In the mid-2010s thousands crossed the sea and landed there. Greece had a military base, Moria. There they found food and shelter, information about documents, and an unending supply of diapers.

Bridges: Word spread that in Athens there was a safe harbor for comfort and support. It was named “Bridges.” The stream of refugees going through those doors found people who spoke their language, who sat and listened, who prayed for them, and, upon request, would give Bibles in their language and bring them into a prayer group.

Dignity: Refugees traveling in the Czech Republic would pass highway signs telling them to go home, that they are a blot on life the Czech citizenry. Many find a different reception in Prague at a place called “Dignity.” There they find sanctuary, prayer, miracles, process for papers, and even Christmas packages taken to their camps far from the city. 

Oasis: When the thousands of Afghan refugees were arriving in Virginia, this ministry in Arlington sent out word asking for help. What Oasis wanted were families who would take in these refugees from Kabul. The response was both abundant money for expenses and homes for Afghans.

Tampa Muslim Outreach: The welcome there means English classes, meals, and safe gatherings for the huge Muslim population. In our visit there the sweet aroma of Jesus Christ was carried not only by Arab-speaking leaders but also by boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. I’m sure the creativity of TMO has brought in other creative innovations, but I remember how many smiles those doughnuts brought.

Actually, there are more pivotal words in what Jesus said, not just “welcomed.” What he said was, “When you comfort these refugees in their misery of separation, loss, and abuse, when you  bring in people from Afghanistan, Sierra Leone, Libya, and Ukraine, when you have listened and loved them, you have done this unto me.”