Henry has a great old t-shirt that lists all the immigrants and refugees named or described in the Bible. The list is quite long. One of the most well-known, of course, is Jesus himself. He and his parents were political refugees who fled Palestine shortly after his birth because King Herod was seeking to take his life. Given all the uproar over immigrants in this country right now, I find myself wondering what type of reception the infant Jesus and his blue-collar parents would receive if they were to show up today on our southern border with just a donkey and one meager equivalent of a suitcase (Matthew 2:1–15 says they fled directly from Bethlehem to Egypt, so Joseph probably didn’t even have his carpenter’s tools with him).
Having to suddenly flee for fear of your life must have been an incredibly wrenching experience—especially following so immediately on the “high” of the wise men’s visit. Joseph and Mary probably felt a strong case of spiritual whiplash: One minute, they’re on top of the world, with a healthy new baby and some rich visitors bringing strong spiritual encouragement and unusual, expensive gifts; the next minute, they’re fleeing into the unknown with their infant’s life at stake.
Take a moment to reflect on what Joseph and Mary must have felt with this sudden reversal in fortune. I can easily imagine shock, fear, despair, helplessness. They had no power in comparison with King Herod and all of his soldiers and governmental bureaucrats, who really didn’t care who was affected by the king’s order; they were just worried about keeping their own jobs.
Now, take a moment to remember that something very similar actually happened to a lot of refugees and immigrants this very week, with the sudden implementation of Trump’s immigration ban on anyone entering the US from seven Arab countries. Imagine the feelings of political refugees who had finally, after months or years of intense investigation and uncertainty, been awarded refugee status. They probably felt just as much of a “high” as Mary and Joseph—and then suddenly they land on US shores and are told they can’t stay. There were immigrants who had visas and green cards who, despite their legal status, were also suddenly being turned away at the border. How could they not also feel shock, fear, despair, helplessness?
Jesus grew up to teach and preach to the marginalized, the oppressed, and the nameless victims of the powerful. No doubt, as he sat on a hillside in Galilee—just like this one—telling parables to his fellow Jews, he sometimes thought of the stories that his own parents had told him about those frightening days after his birth, when they literally had to run for their lives. He probably also remembered stories from Mary and Joseph about those who helped them out along the way, providing shelter, directions, a bit of food or encouragement. Jesus’ family wouldn’t have made it without the help of others—and perhaps those others became his role models for people like the Good Samaritan.
What resonates for you in all of this? What challenges you? How are you called to act in response to our own unfolding global refugee and immigrant story?