Kevin O’Higgins SJ reminds us that refugees are ordinary people like ourselves, caught in a life-shattering situation, and in need of our solidarity and our practical help.
It is difficult, if not impossible, for us to conceive what it would be like to have our familiar, everyday lives shattered beyond retrieval. Even as we look at television images of the ravages of war in other parts of the world, it is hard to envisage our own towns and cities similarly transformed into a hellish scenario of violence and destruction.
Collateral damage
The fact that we usually observe those images from the comfort and security of our living rooms makes it even more difficult to imagine the trauma experienced by people who suddenly find their lives reduced to a grim struggle for survival.
The techniques of modern warfare mean that civilian populations are directly in the firing line, even when they are referred to in a dehumanizing manner as ‘collateral damage’. Images of the long lines of refugees also form part of the propaganda wars that are fought out on our television screens. Like it or not, we are all caught up in the spectacle of their suffering.
Refugees are not beings from another planet. They are ordinary people, just like ourselves. They once had homes and jobs, and they looked forward to living and dying in the place they called home. They went to work, looked after their children, enjoyed family gatherings and chatted with their neighbours. Their daily routine of work and leisure was much the same as our own. They never dreamed that everything they had spent their lives building up could be taken away so suddenly and cruelly.
Traumatic upheaval
Given the choice, most of us would prefer a reasonably comfortable and secure existence in our own native land. The place in which we were born and reared is where we feel most at ease. We are familiar with the traditions and customs. We never have to cope with feeling like outsiders. Even the geography and climate are like an extension of ourselves. Most important of all, the presence of family and friends is the surest guarantee that we will never feel totally alone or abandoned. They are always there to celebrate the important moments and they support us in times of difficulty.
Refugees have the same love of their native land as the rest of us, but the option of remaining there has been taken out of their hands. Without prior warning, everything that was familiar and reassuring in their lives has been violently snatched away. Their homes, their neighbours, even the security of a family circle, have all been consigned to the past. They have been forced to try to rebuild their broken lives in a strange new setting. They have to face the trauma of adjusting to alien surroundings, a different culture and, in most cases, even a new language.
Solidarity
The most they can hope for is that the inhabitants of their host country will be able to appreciate their plight and offer a helping hand. Unfortunately, this is not always the case. On top of the shattering experience of war and upheaval, many refugees have to cope with the additional trauma of being regarded in their new country with suspicion and resentment, as if they were the authors of their own tragedy.
Fortunately, most of us will never have the experience of being uprooted from our native soil and converted into bewildered wanderers seeking asylum in foreign lands. However, a minimum sense of our common humanity should suffice to convince us that we ought to offer support to those who find themselves in that situation. This is all the more true in the case of countries, like Ireland, whose own history is filled with the pain of war and mass emigration.
A test of Christian values
Our treatment of the refugees who arrive on our shores is also a test of the sincerity and depth of our professed Christian values. The commandment to love our neighbour transcends considerations of political or economic expediency.
Our Christian response must go beyond mere statements of solidarity or demands that the politicians should solve the problem. Jesus commanded his followers to care especially for the sick and the homeless. He also made it clear that our deeds in this regard would speak far more loudly than merely verbal expressions of faith.
In order to underline the seriousness of his message, Jesus deliberately placed himself on the margins of society, among the outcasts. From the very first moments of his earthly life, he knew what it meant to be homeless and rejected.
Shortly after he was born, Jesus and his parents became refugees in Egypt. They were fleeing from what, nowadays, would be regarded as political persecution. A fearful, power-hungry despot had decided that even innocent children posed a threat to his position, and he set about eliminating the danger through a campaign of mass murder.
Given this background, it is hardly surprising that Jesus should have displayed such remarkable sensitivity towards the plight of those who suffer poverty and rejection. He constantly urged his followers to welcome and help those in need, and he practised what he preached.
Practising what we preach
In every century there have been heroic examples of people who have sacrificed everything, even their lives, for the Kingdom of God. In our own time, the plight of the world’s refugees has inspired thousands of volunteers to reach out a helping hand.
The fact that some of those bewildered people we see on our television screens may eventually reappear in our own neighbourhood means that we have the chance to move beyond merely lamenting what is happening in far off lands. If our parishes, schools and other institutions were to make a special effort to ease the plight of the refugees, their situation would improve dramatically.
We can help even on an individual basis, either by providing some basic material support, or simply by offering small gestures of understanding and solidarity. For a stranger in a strange land, even a friendly smile can mean an awful lot.
This article first appeared in The Messenger (April 2000), a publication of the Irish Jesuits.
