“Millions and millions of people pouring into our country right now, from prisons and from mental institutions, terrorists, and they’re taking over our country.”
This quote was included by our former President, Donald Trump, in his response to his trial last week. He was found guilty on 34 counts related to his hush money trial. It is no surprise to anyone that he found a way to avoid taking responsibility for his own moral failures and instead tried to blame anyone else instead.
It is not a sign of strength to blame everyone else except yourself. That is a sign of weakness. It is especially weak to find and blame the most vulnerable in a society as the source of your political woes.
I am finishing up an excellent book, The Ungrateful Refugee, by Dina Nayeri (her brother Daniel also wrote an incredible book, Everything Sad is Untrue). She writes about her experience as a refugee, coming to America as a child—and the profound effects that experience had on her and her family. She, now an adult, is working around the world to help those who are in the same situation.
Her stories are enlightening. But what struck me most about her book was the way many (most?) countries avoid taking responsibility for those who are in real trouble. She describes the horrific conditions that people live through as they wait approval from their new country—waits that turn from months into years—living in squalid conditions with little access to resources. She describes how these refugees are often described as irrational, dramatic—and how rarely their stories of escape are rarely believed.
Dina writes, “Nativist fury, not an exile’s pleas for rescue, is the irrational spectacle, the unearned reaction, in today’s refugee narrative.” She’s describing the reactions from those in charge—those in power. Their ‘nativist fury’—the lengths they go to avoid processing and allowing refugees a place to live, a chance to move on with their lives—is irrational. Not the other way around.
A few lines later, she throws this punch: “Meanwhile, the actual hysteria, the insidious nativist rhetoric shouted down from safe perches, doesn’t sound like a lie at all—it sounds clever, rational, calm.”
Truth be told, she is writing about her experiences—both as a refugee and one who advocates for refugees—as being primarily located in Europe, although her work takes her around the world.
But we don’t have to look far to see this “nativist fury” in our own country. It is fueled by fear—the fear of losing power. What else would Donald Trump, with all of his access to money, resources, people, etc. have to fear? The only thing he fears is losing power.
I was reading the book of James in the Bible this past week. James 1:27 has stuck out to me since I first read it as a teenager: “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself from being polluted from the world.”
Orphans and widows aren’t all that special. I mean, they are. But, what they point to is a measuring stick of how “true” one’s religion actually is. Orphans and widows were the ones who were the most vulnerable in James’ day. Even in the Old Testament, God gave Moses many laws that defined how the community of Israel would be expected to relate to foreigners and those without familial ties:
Cities of refuge were available to Israelites and foreigners in cases of accidental killing (Numbers 35:15).
Foreigners were to be included in festivals and celebrations mandated in the Law (Deuteronomy 16:14; 26:11).
Some of the tithes collected by the priests were to be used to not only feed them and their families, but also to help provide food for foreigners, widows, and orphans (Deuteronomy 14:28–29).
Farmers were instructed to leave the gleanings of their fields for the poor and the foreigner (Leviticus 23:22).
The command to care for the stranger was so embedded in the Law that it was used as the basis for how God’s people were to treat each other: Israelites were to treat their own poor as they would the stranger or the foreigner (Leviticus 25:35).*
You see, it was an expectation that Israel, and then the later Christian communities, would take care of those in their communities who were most vulnerable. Orphans and widows lacked some pretty serious protection and provision because of their lack of a father/husband. In a culture where your family connections are the single most influential key to your survival, orphans and widows were left with nothing—and it was for this reason that James teaches the new churches scattered throughout the world to care for them.
Like Paul’s instructions in 1 Corinthians 13, our fancy speeches, thoughtful blog posts, gifts of prophecy, powers of persuasion, wisdom and faith are all meaningless without love that looks like love. Religion that is pure means taking care of those in our communities who are most vulnerable. You may push back and say that we can’t run a country this way. While I don’t know enough to engage in that debate, I will say this: If we call ourselves Christ-followers, then we’d better pay attention to Jesus and his teachings. He was not motivated by fear, but by love. He did not elevate himself (use his status as God) in order to protect himself, create power for the Jews, or save his neck. He didn’t play by the political rules of his day, even though he could have. In fact, a couple decades after his death and Resurrection the Jewish nation was essentially sacked by the Romans and the center of their worship, Jerusalem, was destroyed. Jesus predicted it would happen, but did nothing to stop it.
He demonstrated the power of a Kingdom that was foreign to everyone in his day: Enemy-love, a non-violent response, choosing to point out those who were least in the community to demonstrate the Goodness of God’s Kingdom.
Trump, from his seat of power and wealth, may truly believe that those entering the United States from other countries have evil intent. But that doesn’t disclose the full truth, only his perverted bent on it. From where I sit, I see hard-working people who have given up everything for the chance (mostly for their children) to have a better life. I see families who share homes, work long hours, send their kids to school, find community, share resources, and endure tragedy. They’ve lost home, they’ve lost their sense of identity, their occupations, their expertise in their home country. No one does this unless they are in danger.
The people who truly pose a threat to our nation/democracy are those who have enough wealth and power to operate above the law, to shape policy to their own desires, and to manipulate the courts into justifying their (clearly immoral) actions. And this doesn’t look like the Jesus I read about in the New Testament. It looks more like those he most forcefully opposed.
*This list of examples was created by World Vision
**Books mentioned here were:
The Ungrateful Refugee by Dina Nayeri
Everything Sad Is Untrue by Daniel Nayeri