The Stigma of Strangers ~ Suffering Refugees

Greetings Dear Reader,

I touched on this yesterday but need to dive a bit deeper for my own reminder.  I also hope that it will in some way benefit you Dear Reader.  I feel that we relegate too much to the State that is the responsibility of the Church.  I often feel it is like leaving the greedy cousin in charge of the treasury. 

I mean no disrespect to our political leaders.  It is rather that one of the chief ways given for us to demonstrate our faith is how we treat the stranger in our land.  We are told clearly that their welfare is our responsibility.   It is in their need that we can see the physical reality of the Gospel.  If we relegate it to our government then we are not being obedient.

One can argue about the fears they feel over possible outcomes.  Again, we are required to leave our fears aside and allow the Father to deal with outcomes.  We stir up the fear with images of terrorism and death whilst allowing those in need to languish and die.  For those who follow Christ this posture is untenable.

It may be that we stigmatize refugees with one of the deepest stigmas.  Whether it is Native Americans, Interred Japanese Americans, or people from other shores answering the call of the New Colossus, we stigmatize those we fear.   We create the problem or ignore the problem created by others.  We fail over and over again to demand that the values of Christ be lived out in our treatment of the stranger. 

It is my obligation to see the needs of others and help where I can.  I must never set aside my responsibility out of fear or greed.  If I am to follow Christ then I must not consider the needs of others someone else’s responsibility.  I must care and pray always.  I must help in any way that I can.

The New Colossus – Emma Lazarus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

MOTHER OF EXILES. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she

With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn

Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

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