Refugees in Our Midst

            

There are too many people in the world—7 billion—for the resources available, especially since some of us live with little regard for others.  There are too many places where war threatens and displaces people, and hence migration of unprecedented proportion is occurring.  The images of people fleeing Syria, Somalia, Afghanistan (the most prominent exporters of refugees), as well as the Rakhine State in Myanmar, sear our consciences.  What desperate families go through is unimaginable, and we often turn our gaze.

            European and Scandinavian countries (Christian in heritage) have offered asylum, and they are finding ways to house and assist the strangers in their midst.  I applaud their humanitarian perspective and willingness to put their national resources at the disposal of concrete relief.  It is complicated, and it will only grow more so.

            Approximately 10.5 million persons are refugees world-wide, and the 2015 US cap is 70,000.  This seems to be too few given our land mass, resources, and social service opportunities—in addition to government agencies.  And then there are the churches.

            It would be a wonderful Christian witness if each church would sponsor a family.  It is an achievable and transformative action.  Welcoming the stranger is at the very heart of the Gospel.  We have all we need to be the hands and feet of Jesus in such a project.  How helpful it would be to listen to the stories of those who have left home in search of a future story.

            Presently there is a political candidate who spouts venom about deportation and his intent to build high “keep them out” walls.  This nativist rhetoric is compelling for some who refuse to acknowledge the trauma convulsing our world.  It is a shameful response to the real exigencies of so many.

            The lesson from the Hebrew Bible for next Sunday recounts the departure of Naomi and Ruth.  They are refugees and make their way from famine to more hospitable environs.  Actually, it was famine that drove Naomi’s family away from their homeland in the first place.

            Ruth and Naomi understand that their future is more secure if they journey together, and they creatively hatch a plan that will sustain their livelihood—and participate in the lineage of the Davidic dynasty--and beyond.  It is a narrative of promise, and it displays the resources available in communities when trust and receptivity are present.

            Central is engaged with many who have made their way from Myanmar to the US.  Karen, Chin, Kachin, and other tribal groups are moving into US communities, linking arms with Baptist churches, and establishing their identity in an adopted land.  (I am always astonished that Karen can move from steamy Myanmar to frosty St. Paul, MN!)

            It is time for congregations to act with welcoming compassion.  We can make a difference and offer families a new horizon of promise.

            Molly T. Marshall

Central prepares ministers to craft the future with God.

Regainig Sight

            The last event in Mark 10 is the healing of Bartimaeus, a blind beggar.  Learning that Jesus of Nazareth was passing by, he began to shout and beg for mercy.  He was not to be silenced, and Jesus called him to come forward.  Interestingly, Jesus does not presume what he wants, even though it was evident that he was blind.  He simply inquires, “What do you want me to do for you?”

            Bartimaeus articulates his request: “My teacher, let me see again.”  Jesus commends his faith for its healing power and, having regained sight, becomes a disciple. He “followed him on the way” (10:52) and helps galvanize the faith of disbelieving others as Jesus journeys toward Jerusalem.

            I wonder how we might respond if Jesus put such a question to us?  Do we know what we most need?  Can we articulate our need for reorientation in life and death? The clarity of our answer determines the trajectory of our lives.

            I attended the memorial service of a long time friend and colleague on Monday in Waco, Texas.  I first met Diana Richmond (Garland) in college at Oklahoma Baptist University in 1968.  She was a serious student; I was not.  She was a city girl; I was not.  She exuded maturity beyond her years; I was more into mischief than maturity.  I remember her typing David’s papers, a rare kindness in my estimation—especially since he was a philosophy major!

            They married and went off to Southern Seminary, and I caught up with them a few years later when I became a Master of Divinity student.  Then we became teaching colleagues, and Diana’s excellence as a scholar and adept leader inspired me to strive harder.

            She was able to see clearly, and her vision for the integration of Christian faith and the best social work practices is an enduring legacy.  Her impact on generations of students is remarkable, and the world is better because of her relentless challenge to systems that marginalize the poor, children, and those without educational privilege.

            Diana died too young, and she left a long “to do” list for her colleagues at the School of Social Work at Baylor, recently named for her.  As we gathered to honor her in remembrance, sing our faith, and accompany her family, we gave thanks for her extraordinary capacity to see a more hopeful future for those whose circumstances make life harder.

            In my imagination, Diana answered Jesus’ question “what do you want me to do for you?” with a resounding, “I want you to help me prepare women and men to embody the Gospel for the least of these.”  Jesus surely answered her request, and all who knew her bear witness to the grace of her life.

            Molly T. Marshall

Central prepares women and men for seeking God, shaping church, and serving humanity.