Where is GOD in ISIS? Love is Worth the Risk
A Syrian refugee from Aleppo holds his one month old daughter moments after arriving on a dinghy on the Greek island of Lesbos, September 3, 2015. Credit: Photo by Dimitris Michalakis/Reuters.
To my Christian brethren, especially our politically engaged Christian Conservatives, and especially those in my own Texas backyard.
Cowardice. That’s the reason 27 GOP Governors and one Democrat are rejecting the resettlement of Syrian refugees. More shameful than their cowardice is that they lead as Christians.
Cowards bully others or bring down the hammer vulnerable positions and easy targets to cover up the fears and insecurity of their leadership. If they can drive and sustain fear in others and present themselves as the toughest sheriff in town, then they’ll gain the trust and votes of those who, at all costs, want to protect themselves and what they’ve built. Their hard stance is a shield for weak ideas and a lack of vision. And their sheriffs’ badge has no authority to stop forces of evil and terror in the world. Only love and God’s mercy can do that.
It’s the way Texas has always done it, with fear, and especially with Christians. Abortion laws, prayer in schools, Common Core, Obama-care, secure the border, defense of marriage, gun rights. And now, no admittance for Syrian refugees.
Says Governor Phil Bryant of Mississippi, “I will do everything humanly possible to stop any plans from the Obama administration to put Syrian refugees in Mississippi.”
Logical, embellished with sarcasm is Greg Abbott’s style, “A Syrian ‘refugee’ appears to have been part of the Paris terror attack. American humanitarian compassion could be exploited to expose Americans to similar deadly danger.”
I get it. Running for Governor of Texas, I witnessed it on the campaign trail. Smelled the fear and breathed in the air of futility mixed with indignant and dramatic rage of the hopeful candidates. Leaders need to be seen as tough, protecting rights and property. But it’s a ruse; they know it, and Christians should know better.
As Christians, we need to remember that God is sovereign over all.
“I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.”
We can no more be in control of all these shifting slopes of terror than we can control a tornado. Evil and vicious acts are born of a man’s heart (the movie theater in Colorado, the army base in Killeen, Texas, the recent Charleston killing). To be alive is a risk. With life comes a risk and certainty of dying and loss. Loss of love, health, money, control, power. We are never in control of anything except our capacity to love. Love is our surest defense against evil and best deterrent to future evil. To love is a risk.
Yes, taking the refugees is a risk. And, yes terrorists may hate us. God says, “Love your enemies–even the pagans can love those who love them.” Love is worth the risk. And, maybe the refugees aren’t worth it. Were we?
Jesus loved at all cost and paid the ultimate price. Did Jesus ask our Father if we would be worth it? Did Jesus ask if we were professionals who could contribute to the economy, if we had ties to an evildoer? Did he ask God if we loved him enough to warrant paying such a high price? It was risky. We weren’t worth it and Jesus went to the cross anyway. And now we are saved, home.
Are we a Christian nation? A moral one? When it suits us, we are pious, tied to God’s word and will for our lives that we may be saved. Prayer in schools, the sanctity of marriage, protecting the unborn. But when it costs us, caring for the fatherless and the widow, loving our enemies, honoring the least of these, freeing the oppressed, we are suddenly fiscally secular and indifferent to human life and our role to solve larger problems of human suffering, indignity, and persecution.
We are a generous, compassionate people. But our egos push back on humbling ourselves to freely extend to others what might bring them level to us. The fear that we might sink lower triggers the scarcity alarm. Love is too risky. “I’ll help you, pray for you, but keep your distance–there.”
Love is not cheap; it costs. The cross for Jesus, our lives for us. In Time magazine’s cover story, “What it Takes to Forgive a Killer, the victims of Charleston opened up what it cost to forgive Dylan Roof, who murdered their friends, mothers, fathers, and loved ones in a vicious hate crime at their church. “I can’t turn off my pain,” said a survivor who lost her mother. Many expressed valid concerns that the killer and the nation were let off too easily. That their quick forgiveness risked, deflecting the larger issue of hate and violence perpetrated on African-Americans in this country. Was Dylan Roof (who has yet to express regret or remorse) worth the risk of love and forgiveness so quickly poured out to him?
We have to decide which master we serve and who our life is about. This world, or God. Is American exceptionalism and greatness is about us, or, about God? If it’s about us, our fear and insecurity is valid. How we treat Syrian refugees, immigrants, the poor, the fatherless and the widow doesn’t matter.
But if it’s about God, and I think most Christians believe that, then we have a task before us and an opportunity to be heroes of love. To comfort the poor, free the oppressed, and share in the abundant fruit he has given us. If it’s about God, his hands and feet built this. The freedom and luxury we covet and hoard–none of it is ours. This land, our things, our money, or homes–all belong to God.
God’s command, “Do not be afraid,” (given 365 times I read) are not only about our personal trials and daily concerns, but a counsel for harder and more explosive times such as these. God warned us in this world there would always be trouble, but we are tasked to believe in something greater, stronger than this world. Let us be willing to lose our lives in order that we fully live to see the glory and power of God!
As we prepare for this season to gather and feast with loved ones and give thanks for all our blessings, let us be reminded that it is only God’s goodness that allows us to eat to our heart’s content, warm our hands by a fire, and walk on free ground. That for the grace of God we are not mothers and fathers adrift at sea, looking to the heavens above for mercy and the earth below for peace and shelter in a terrifying world.
My prayer is that we can be that shelter. That we recognize that all God’s blessings will only belong to us when we pass them on to others, desiring for others what we desire for ourselves. That we, Christians, and Christian leaders will say, “Come, here. Let us walk you home.”
