Knowing what it’s like

“My father was a farmer and we had eight siblings. 
I went to Australia when I was fifteen because my family didn’t have enough to eat. 
I was on a boat for forty days. When I got there, I couldn’t find a job.  
I couldn’t speak English, and I had to sleep on the street. I know what it’s like. 
So every day I drive the van to the port and hand out bread to the refugees. 
My son is my business partner. He says, ‘Baba, please. It’s fine to help. But not every day.’ 
But I still go every day because I know what it feels like to have nothing.”
– in Kos, Greece (from Humans of New York)
This unnamed man inspires me; I’ve saved the quote and his picture on my phone, because if more of us had a heart like his, maybe the mass migration of people into Europe and the world facing the largest displacement of people since records began would seem, well, smaller.
I’m still wrestling with what responding to this on a personal level really looks like (at the moment it might look like trekking across London in the wee hours of the morning to get on a coach to Calais to pick up litter for 5 hours – anyone want to join?), but I’m encouraged by the fact that God is sovereign, and has plan and a purpose to extend His kingdom on the earth. We know what His heart towards asylum seekers and refugees is:
For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, 
the Great God, mighty and awesome,
who shows no partiality and accepts no bribes. 
He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, 
and loves the foreigner residing among you, 
giving them food and clothing. 
And you are to love those who are foreigners, 
for you yourselves were foreigners in Egypt. 
Deuteronomy 10: 17-18

 

The Gospels are full of references to Jesus’s compassion (Matthew 6:34, 9:36, 14:14, 15:32, 20:34, 23:37, Luke 7:13, 19:41-42).
I was struck by a definition of compassion which defines it as ‘suffering with’ combined with a desire to help. That’s powerful, and it’s what Jesus did for us, though He also had the ability to help us in a way that no other human being ever could. He is both the sinless man and eternal God, who died in our place so we can be restored to relationship with God the Father, have life abundant on earth and life eternal with Him.
It’s challenging not to become desensitised, or start to see the numbers and forget the people. Let’s be a praying church, who cries out to God in the face of need and also for His wisdom in guiding us to a compassionate response as individuals, and the church (locally and as His body worldwide).
And let’s grow in compassion – one simple way to do this is to come along on the evening of Monday 25 April to the Wimbledon Odeon to hear the story of Gulwali Passarlay, author of The Lightless Sky, who journeyed through Europe from Afghanistan as a 12-year-old boy before arriving in Britain. Tickets are available for purchase here. The event is being organised by Wimbledon Bookfest and Merton Welcomes Refugees.
“This is the man who inspired us to begin helping refugees. We met Father Stratis back in 2008, when refugees began arriving on the island from Afghanistan. We ran a mini market at the time, and every day this priest would come in to buy juice, croissants, and other supplies to hand out. Eventually we began to follow his lead, and soon we were working side by side. I always joke that God punished me for my atheism by sending a priest to be my best friend. He was always pushing us to do more. The phone never left his hand. He was always looking for new ways to help. He died last month, but even in his final days, he was searching for diapers from his hospital bed. His final post on Facebook said, ‘God is love, without asterisks.’ 
– in Lesvos, Greece (from Humans of New York)
Do you have a heart for refugees and asylum seekers, a story to share, or want to join us in praying? If so, we’d love to hear from you!