But Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.” I’ve been watching as America wrestles with refugees and immigration and with letting the children of immigrants call this place home. As a twenty-three-year-old learning to fill my space in the world, I have needed to step off the sidelines. And so I participated in a march. A march for keeping families together. And as I marched, hot indignant tears rolled down my cheeks while I watched the protesters symbolically pile children’s shoes high on the sidewalk, watched them spilling over onto the road. Later, as I carried my sign, an elderly man stopped me, placed his hand on my shoulder and said, “Thank you. It’s getting harder to be an immigrant in America every day.”
I think sometimes we get paralyzed by the thought of being wrong. But I’m learning to invite grace in because I know God will meet me there. When I think about that man, I see a human being. Somebody told me once that God loves the person more than the institution. And right now, the institution is looking a lot like America telling us what safety is, what safety isn’t, and what should be ours. But I’m here to gently remind us of something. I’m here to remind us, Christians, that when we became Christians we gave up our rights.
We gave up the right to safety, the right to owning things and putting up walls around them, claiming them as our own and shutting out the hurting.
Paul said to die is gain. When we became Christians, we said we would lay down our lives for our neighbors. And I think that means our neighboring countries too. Jesus said pick up your cross and follow me. And when I watch what scripture tells us our crosses look like, I remember we don’t get to sit back. And what better way to live out His kindness, His mercy, then with open arms here on this earth crying out, “not my will, but yours be done Father.”
As He died for the least of these, let us die too. Whatever that means. If that means giving up my home, giving up my rights, giving up my safety, then so be it. I refuse to store up my treasure here on earth. I want to be the kind of Christian storing up treasure in heaven.
We’ve become too comfortable in this world we claim as our own, over and over and over again.
But this world isn’t ours. It never was. This is not our home. And we have no right to tell human beings that they cannot find refuge here with us. We are made in the image of God. And if we are to be mirrors of Him, then we are to be mirrors of hope, shelter, rest, and strength. We are to look more like Him every single day. And I could never wrap my head around the picture of a God who doesn’t put out a welcome mat, a God who doesn’t invite us in. I can’t imagine a God who doesn’t say, “let the little children come to me.”
Christians, we have got to start bringing this conversation out in big and bold ways. We have got to start leaning in to our identity as a lighthouse, a city on a hill, a home filled with hope. Let’s wrap that identity around ourselves. Because we too are immigrants, we understand what it means to love, and families belong together. And if I could say one thing to you, it’s this: wipe your feet on the Father’s welcome mat and come on in. We’re all welcome here.
// Words & Photos by Jessica Meko