Should We Help Refugees?

"When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong.  You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.  I AM the Lord your God."  -Lev. 19:33-4

"A refugee is someone who owing to a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religions, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion, is outside the country of his nationality, and is unable to, or owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himself of the protection of that country.'" 1951 Refugee Convention

I wonder if our forefathers thought of these words from Leviticus when they landed on what we now call the United States of America.  Especially when the native inhabitants of this soil extended aid to us, when we were welcomed as strangers and sojourners without a home to call our own.

When I first moved to Chicago, I  hung out with Earth Wisdom, a community of people deeply interested in Native American spirituality and lifestyle.  We jokingly called ourselves the "WannabeeTribe," because we were all a bunch of middle-class white folks wanting to be Native American.

Our attempts were sincere, though, and well-grounded in connections with people like Ed McGaa. We hung out at Camp Ronora for vision quests and sweat lodges.  We gathered in friends' homes for drumming circles, potlucks, talking sticks and give-aways. I learned how to offer tobacco to an elder for a pipe ceremony, how to plant a garden according to the power of the four directions.  How to walk the Red Road, as much as a middle class white girl can.

One of my fondest memories of Earth Wisdom was the time Ed McGaa gave me a name during a Sweat Lodge.  My name is Tasweka Tate, which means "Dragonfly  Wind."  He chose if for me because he knew how much I loved Dragonflies.  He claimed it was my Totem.   It is especially meaningful to me, because that summer something magical happened, and it showed me the power of Native American spirituality.

I had gone biking by the lake on the Northwestern campus in Evanston.  I don't know the reason why, but dragonflies were swarming the coastline that day, literally being blown in from the lake into the trees and grasses that lined the path.  For a good fifteen minutes, I watched a sea of glimmering wings fill the air, like rainbows in flight.

Did the natives here see us as rainbows in flight, promises of peace, beauty and blessing?  Or were they frightened, finding hints of their demise in our eyes?  What an irony that the people who welcomed us as refugees became refugees, fleeing from us for their lives.

From what is it that I flee?  Where do I seek refuge?

Honestly, I'd like to flee from this topic.  The barest statistics overwhelm me:  According to the UN refugee agency, there are more than 50 million refugees, internally displaced people, and asylum-seekers in the world today.  It's jaw-dropping and heart-stopping.  How can I begin to respond?  HOW do I respond?

I take refuge in all the organizations out there who are doing refugee work.  I am very grateful for the hard work they do in helping people who are homeless and traumatized.  

I take refuge in the knowledge I am a citizen of a country not threatened by war.  It means I am living in personally peaceful times, and am free to use that time to help others in need.  It may not be a refugee from another land, but it may be someone who feels or is homeless in my own country.  

I take refuge in my parish.  I love the diversity I find at St. Eulalia's.  We're a motley crue of races, cultures, politics and sexual orientations.  I feel I experience a bit heaven on earth every time I go to mass. 

I take refuge in the Eucharist, where we are all made one in the Body of Christ, joined as one regardless of our race, creed, culture, sexual orientation,  or political position.

How does racial prejudice close the door of welcome?

Prejudice is the act of making general assumptions about a person or a community, based on limited knowledge.  It is like slamming  a door in the face of the other. 

It can have many affects.  The person who is being subject to prejudice may become defensive and experience shame, anger, sadness and withdrawal.  It also affects the person who is judging.  They miss opportunities to learn and grow.  If unwilling to learn about a different group, it can lead to harassment, abuse and violence.

Where is the hope for refugees who are left homeless?

I hope our government will repudiate the Doctrine of Discovery, which our founders used to justify destroying the nations that already existed on this soil when we arrived. Until we repent our own part in creating refugees, we will never be able to stop it happening elsewhere.  

As Jesus put it, until we remove the log in our own eyes, we will never see how to truly help others.  

As for myself?  

I hope that, when given the opportunity, I will welcome refugees as we were once welcomed. 

I hope I will see them as beautiful rainbows of Good News, bringing resources of heart, mind and culture that will help us grow the Kingdom of God here as is it is intended.

I hope I will follow the wisdom of the Dragonfly, whose gift is the ability to embrace change, transformation and adaptability.  

Finally, I hope I will remember the wisdom of Leviticus 19: 33-4.  Never forget what it feels like to be unwanted.  We don't need to be refugees to have that experience.  All of us have felt it in small ways in our lives Without these memories, we lose our capacity for empathy. Without empathy, there can be no true compassion.  

Why don't you listen to this song while you consider your answers to these questions? 

Hold On