Christian Conscience
Made for Change
Change isn’t easy.
I can’t even begin to count how many times we’ve said that phrase over the last eight months at World Relief. When I think back to March, when our offices across the globe began closing their doors due to shelter-in-place orders, it feels like another lifetime entirely.
Like many of you, we felt the blow of loss and the weight of uncertainty as the virus made its way around the globe. We prayed, we grieved, we sought reason to hope, and together, we leaned in to ask God what he might have for us in the midst of all the disruption.
Just when we thought we might be able to adjust to these new pandemic realities, the tragic murders of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor and George Floyd made national headlines. Calls for justice and reform swept across our nation in ways we haven’t experienced in many years. Faced with these current realities, I found myself evaluating my own blindspots in the fight for racial justice, lamenting the health of our nation and the division that continues today.
2020 has indeed ushered us into new levels of difficulty and uncertainty.
When we consider the enormity of these disruptions, the weight and even powerlessness found in this chaotic year, it can be difficult to access the spiritual energy we need to be a positive agent for change.
Many of us want to be part of the change, but are so drained we cannot carry it out. In the midst of this weariness and confusion, we may be tempted to turn away, to throw up our hands and say, “There’s just no use! Nothing I do will matter anyway.”
Others of us may be tempted to rush back to what feels normal — to prematurely begin putting our lives back together so things can get on just the way they were. But might there be another way?
Perhaps true peace and true change comes not in avoiding the weight of disruption or scrambling back to an old sense of normal, but in accessing the divine resources God has for us once our human store has run out.
King David spoke to this often in the Psalms as he cried out to God for renewal. David — a man familiar with life’s rapid and sometimes painful changes — did not shy away from his discomfort. Instead, he faced it, bringing it honestly to God.
In the opening verses of Psalm 69, David wrote:
“Save me, O God,
for the waters have come up to my neck.
I sink in the miry depths,
where there is no foothold.
I have come into the deep waters;
the floods engulf me.
I am worn out calling for help;
my throat is parched.
My eyes fail,
looking for my God.”
He continues in verse 16:
“Answer me, Lord, out of the goodness of your love;
in your great mercy turn to me.
Do not hide your face from your servant;
answer me quickly, for I am in trouble.
Come near and rescue me;
deliver me because of my foes.”
Like David, we are invited to cry out to God in this same way, laying our fear, our confusion, our anger and even our own shortcomings at his feet. It is only when we are able to name all that we carry and fully surrender it to God, that we are able to move through change, grieve our losses and make something new on the other side.
At World Relief, we recognize the gravity of this year’s change and understand that the months ahead contain challenge and uncertainty of their own, and we are also convinced that God has something good for us in the midst of change.
In fact, when we are able to tap into the divine strength found in God, we may even find that we were made for change. We were made for growth. We were made for renewal. And we were made to bring that redemption to a broken, hurting world.
With this in mind, our team has worked diligently to create a resource to help you reflect and move through the immense amounts of change we’ve experienced. It’s called Monday Meditations.
Starting on October 19th, this six-part audio series will be delivered to your inbox bi-weekly.
I hope you’ll join us in this series as we use scripture to reflect on and embrace change, discovering what it means for each of us to lean in, look forward and reimagine a hopeful future together.
Already signed up? Text this link to a friend and invite them to join you.
Scott Arbeiter is a former pastor of Elmbrook Church in Brookfield, Wisconsin, and the president of World Relief, which is a subsidiary of the National Association of Evangelicals.
Pursuing Peace Together
Imagine a world where wounds were healed and reconciliation was made possible because wrongs were acknowledged and forgiveness was both extended and received.
Where hatred and broken relationships were replaced with humble dialogue, and Christlike love fueled spiritual, relational and community development. This is the world World Relief Rwanda is helping build, and it’s the vision that has inspired a recent partnership with One Day’s Wages.
In 2019, Eugene Cho, founder of One Day’s Wages, joined World Relief President Scott Arbeiter and a group of other pastors on a trip to Rwanda where they witnessed this work first hand.
Scott and Eugene recently caught up with Rwanda Country Director Moses Ndahiro on Zoom. They relived a bit of their trip together and discussed what lessons the U.S. Church can learn from the Rwandan Church.
“Everyone loves the idea of reconciliation until it involves confession, dismantling, forgiveness, to forgive others. It’s hard work, and that’s what really inspired me,” Eugene said.
“The desperation and the pain of what transpired brought the Rwandan church on its knees to the point that they were involved in the courageous and the hard work of confession, truth-telling, forgiving, dismantling, and then creating a more compassionate and just society and nation.”
Today, on International Day of Peace, we’re excited to share part of their conversation with you. International Day of Peace is a global day devoted to strengthening the ideals of peace by observing 24-hours of non-violence and ceasefire.
This year, the United Nations has named “Shaping Peace Together” as the theme and dedicated the day to fostering dialogue and collecting ideas. We hope this conversation spurs you to consider how you might pursue peace in your own life. Consider sharing it with a friend and fostering an evening of dialogue on your own Zoom call!
Watch their conversation below and learn more about our partnership with One Day’s Wages.
Both Can Be True
Several months ago, a counselor said something that has stuck with me. She told me, “Both can be true.” I have held onto these words in the past few months as a tangible way to remind myself of the tension and the reality in our day-to-day world.
For the past couple years, my husband and I have been focused on building a business in his home country of Guatemala, seeking to provide employment for local residents. But, due to COVID-19, all of our work was cancelled and capital quickly dried up. As a result, we’ve had to let go of the business. The grief has been so real. And yet, I struggled to know how to feel it in the midst of a global pandemic and economic recession when our family is healthy and employed. But I can be grateful for what I have and disappointed about what I’ve lost. Both can be true.
In June, Rayshard Brooks was killed by police at my neighborhood Wendy’s. The restaurant was later burned down. On the 4th of July, I shared how I can be patriotic and want our country to address her glaring need for real change. Both can be true.
Next week, my kids “start” school. This weekend, we’re building a workspace in our living room. Moms and dads and teachers all over the country are battling a million emotions about this topic. I am allowing myself to rest in the nuanced tension. I can be concerned about my state’s rising COVID numbers and grieve that my kids aren’t going back to school. I can care about the physical health of my community and also about its mental health and economic well-being. Both can be true.
Last week, the Department of Homeland Security issued a new memo impacting “Dreamers,” immigrants brought to the U.S. as children. On one hand, I’m relieved that the administration has (at least for now) decided not to again attempt to fully rescind DACA, which news reports had suggested was coming. On the other hand, the memo means new hardships for DACA recipients, including filing renewals and paying hefty fees every year, rather than every two years, and barring new applicants to DACA, which we’d presumed based on the June Supreme Court decision would re-open. It’s a relief and it’s frustrating. Both can be true.
Too often, we are pressured to reduce life to binary choices with simple answers. Are you for or against? Left or right? Which side are you on?
But we do not have to neglect the nuance. I honestly think it’s inauthentic to pretend we have no doubts, no questions, no wavering or wondering. It’s also dismissive of those around us to assume that because they share one point of view that it’s the sole perspective they have on the issue.
I recently had a conversation with someone who had an influence on my childhood faith. When she heard I’d written a book, she asked what it was about. I tried not to answer. But eventually, I told her it was about immigration and faith. She immediately asked if I was “all about open borders.” I may have sighed.
I can care about reasonable border security and advocate for making a safe place to welcome asylum seekers. I can believe in the rule of law and want to see Dreamers have a permanent solution. I can support people going through the immigration process “the right way,” while also acknowledging that we’ve made “the right way” very narrow and there’s room to make it simpler and more welcoming. These things can all be true.
We benefit from holding the right amount of tension. It’s good that we have more than one political party. It’s helpful that people have different points of view than our own. These push and pull factors in society help us foresee challenges we otherwise wouldn’t, think creatively, and problem-solve together. I believe we have an opportunity to be an example of holding space for the both/and. Sometimes two truths that others may want to be contradictory hold hands and help us to walk forward with strength.
Both can be true.
Sarah Quezada is a writer, speaker, and advocate. She has a master’s in sociology and wrote Love Undocumented: Risking Trust in a Fearful World. She also oversees the fast-growing online community Women of Welcome, a project of World Relief and the National Immigration Forum. She and her husband Billy live in Atlanta, Georgia and are raising two bicultural and trilingual-ish kids. Find Sarah on Instagram at @sarahquezada or her website sarahquezada.com.
The Church is Divided Over Racial Justice. But It Shouldn’t Be.
Rejection and Division
In 1915, as famed baseball player-turned-evangelist Billy Sunday prepared for a Washington, D.C. crusade, Black Presbyterian Pastor Francis J. Grimké wrote to him, urging him to decry racism among other sins. Sunday never replied, and Grimké, like generations of Black Christians after him, lamented Sunday and so many other white ministers, “claiming to be ambassadors of God,” yet “sitting down quietly in the midst of this spreading leprosy of race prejudice.”
This rejection by white Christians was not new. It was true over 50 years earlier during the time of the Emancipation Proclamation, and it would remain true nearly 50 years after Sunday’s crusade when Martin Luther King Jr. faced rejection from white pastors, which led him to write the “Letter From a Birmingham Jail.
Today, as images of George Floyd’s murder at the hands of Minnesota police have taken over our newsfeeds and television screens, scenes of violent clashes between police and those protesting police violence show up right alongside them. Some Christians – particularly those among the evangelical tradition of which we are both a part – suggest that they support violent police tactics and militaristic language.
“Our streets and cities do not belong to rioters and domestic terrorists,” one prominent evangelical said, echoing the president.
Yet others appeal for healing and call out the sin of racism, which they see as the root cause of all violence and upheaval. “Both read the same Bible, and pray to the same God, ” President Lincoln once observed, so why is it that the views of professed Christians on this issue are so divergent?
Our nation, as it has been throughout much of history, is divided. And so, it seems, is the church.
Divergent Experiences
I (John) have been a pastor for thirty years, and our church ministers to 11,000 parishioners a week. But like so many of my African American brothers and sisters, I have so often been treated by white people as if I don’t exist. And I grieve that I have had to teach my children that if they are finally acknowledged, it will often be in the form of an accusation of wrongdoing and a presumption that because they are Black, they can do no right.
One Sunday morning, as I left my home for church, when I pulled out onto the main highway to head toward the church where I pastor, I was pulled over by a white police officer. I was curious as to why he pulled me over. I was not speeding. I had not broken any traffic laws. My car didn’t have anything wrong with it. After I pulled over, the officer quickly approached my car with his gun drawn and aimed at my head. I wondered, “What had I done that made him feel it necessary to approach my car with his gun drawn and aimed at me?”
As many of my Black brothers and sisters know, I was driving a nice car, coming out of a nice neighborhood, and I was Black. The officer wasn’t sure that I “belonged” in “that” neighborhood, and he thought a reasonable response to his doubt was to aim his gun at me.
How many white pastors – or white men – have such a story to tell? And how does a nation begin to unite and to heal from generations of racism, and denial of it?
Martin Luther King Jr. once noted that “the law cannot make a man love me, but it can keep him from lynching me.” Politics and policy matter. Racial injustice persists because it is reflected in our laws. But law is not where racial injustice begins. Rather, it starts in our souls.
Unjust systems and laws will not ultimately and durably change until attitudes change among the majority of Americans. And unfortunately, when it comes to these attitudes, the church is divided today, just as it was in the days when Dr. King was alive.
Nevertheless, our Scriptures, our own history and the history of a nation that has suffered one of the worst genocides of the last century, make it very clear which side our nation’s churches should be on.
A Lesson From Rwanda
We have witnessed the toxic nature of racism both at home and abroad. The dehumanizing of any group of people empowers injustice of every kind. We saw it in Rwanda when ethnic hatred led to a horrific genocide. We see it at our own border when people fleeing violence seek safety for their children in the United States, but instead of receiving compassionate welcome, they are slandered as dangerous criminals. We witness it as African Americans face daily discrimination and suspicion. We see it tragically and horribly in the deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery and so many others.
Yet, racism, like many sins, hides itself from our conscious mind. In my (Scott’s) time as a pastor of a large, mostly-white Midwestern church, I spent many hours in pastoral counsel, helping people confront an array of issues they confessed were troubling them. But never once in my decades of work did anyone come to me asking for help because they saw within themselves the sin of racism.
“We so want to believe we are not racist,” Doug Hartmann, chairman of the University of Minnesota sociology department, told The Star Tribune, “we don’t even see the way that race still matters.”
In 1908, the London Times invited leading thinkers to write an essay answering the question, “What is wrong with the world?” In response, G.K. Chesterton reportedly offered a two-word answer: “Dear Sirs, with regard to your question, ‘What is wrong with the World?’ I am. Sincerely, G.K. Chesterton.”
And this is my (Scott) answer as well. I, too, am caught in the backwash of hidden motives and sins, including racism. Prejudice is a human problem and lurks in every heart. Perhaps the reason our politics and policies fail us is that the fortress of racism is too seldom admitted or challenged. Only when we confess the reality of our blindness can we ask for help from those of another race, as we also ask for their forgiveness.
I have seen a nation heal from unimaginable trauma. Traveling from village to village in Rwanda with a group of American pastors (both Black and white), I witnessed Hutu and Tutsi grapple with the horror of nearly one million deaths fueled by tribal hatred. I watched as perpetrators named their crimes without excuse and sought forgiveness. I saw survivors and the families of those murdered extend a human touch, allowing the journey to healing to begin, and that healing continues in near miraculous ways today.
What was most surprising to me was that pastors led the way by first confessing their own sins of complicity and cowardice to stand against the tide. Our group sat in stunned silence as one Rwandan pastor admitted, “We grieve over the sin of our inaction. We knew what was coming and we did not speak out. We live with this pain.” We took courage knowing he had used that regret to fuel his work of reconciliation over the past twenty years, and we understood that this was a challenge we, too, must face to bring healing to our land.
As Christians, we believe that change can happen because the Bible recognizes each human as made in God’s image. The same Bible gives clear and explicit instruction to fight for justice and speak out against any and every injustice, regardless of our nationality, ethnicity or party affiliation.
A Call to Confess
For white evangelicals in particular – who will be held accountable for disproportionate political influence, particularly with the current administration – that belief must compel humble listening to those who have been marginalized: Black men and women subjected to violence at the hands of police, immigrants cruelly detained in the midst of a global pandemic and refugees whom our country has excluded.
It requires confession that we have indulged a racism that has blinded us to a system that aided us at the expense of others. And worse yet, we have justified it.
The church is divided over the issue of race. But it should not be. Our history makes it clear that those who defended slavery, instituted the Jim Crow laws of the South and resisted the Civil Rights act were not only on the wrong side of history, but on the wrong side of the gospel as well.
As the Rwandan church has modeled, we must name our sin against the Black community without excuse, deflection or denial.
We must seek forgiveness for our complicity in and defense of unjust laws that were to our benefit and at their expense.
The white church, and especially the white evangelical church of today, must turn from the dehumanizing attitudes, rhetoric and policies that are so destructive to the Black community and toxic to our own souls.
And as we do this work within our churches, we must also turn outwards. We must hold our political leaders accountable. We must demand that evil acts be punished, regardless of who committed them— even police officers. And above all, we must cling to a gospel that unites — one that defines every person of equal and infinite worth. And those who have denied that worth to others must be willing to confess, lament and repent if we and our nation are to be healed.
John Jenkins Sr. is the pastor of First Baptist Church of Glenarden, Maryland, and the board chair of the National Association of Evangelicals.
Scott Arbeiter retired from World Relief in 2021 as president after serving the organization in various roles for more than two decades and is a former pastor of Elmbrook Church in Brookfield, Wisconsin.
The Path to Lasting Change
Change isn’t easy, and it isn’t fast. Change shows up day after day, month after month, year after year. The path to change requires faithfulness, consistency and a commitment to going the distance — no matter how far or how long it takes.
I remember the day our team pulled up to the abandoned factory on the western shore of Lake Turkana. Eight hours of driving off-road through rock, sand and empty riverbeds had left our team sore and tired, yet the sight of the looming, disheveled building was enough to shake us from our weariness.
Following the Sahelian drought of the mid-1980s, massive famine devastated the Turkana region. As is so often the case with large-scale global disasters, the initial compassion surge propelled aid rapidly into the region. International organizations set up food distributions, medical teams flew in to staff temporary feeding clinics and the Turkana people were once again shown that when things get just bad enough, Western forces will undoubtedly swoop in to save the day.
Now, blocking the blistering rays of the afternoon sun from our faces, stood one of these examples. Twenty years and 150 million U.S. dollars later, a fishery had been completed for the people of Turkana. Its promise? To prevent the people of the region from ever facing starvation again. The reality? A tragic landmark of good intentions gone wrong. The people of Turkana, you see, do not eat fish.
In 2010, African economist Dambisa Moyo wrote in her book, Dead Aid, “Africa is addicted to aid. For the past sixty years, it has been fed aid. Like any addict it needs and depends on its regular fix, finding it hard, if not impossible, to contemplate existence in an aid-less world. In Africa, the West has found its perfect client to deal to.”
These words, though difficult to hear, echo all too true for many development practitioners who frequently hear petitions for food and money when first entering new communities. The fishery in Turkana is a tangible manifestation of Moyo’s claim. It seems that every year we hear horror stories of time and money poured into well-meaning aid interventions that fail to solve the problems they intended to, create damaging patterns of dependency or, worst of all, create bigger problems for their intended beneficiaries.
These well-intentioned interventions can leave those of us that long to see lasting change take root feeling overwhelmed, perplexed and even defeated. Is there a solution? Is it possible to help without creating dependencies? Is there truly a way to bring flourishing to communities across the globe?
While stories like this one from Turkana are tragic, they’ve taught us important lessons.
In fact, they are a central part of how World Relief has developed our model of relief and development because they’ve helped us understand that lasting change comes not with quick fixes or band-aid solutions, but through a deep understanding of the unique beliefs, cultural traditions, resources and needs of the communities in which we work.
It means that in places like northern Turkana, we understand that this nomadic, pastoralist community survives on a diet of meat, milk, and blood, and that asking them to eat fish – a species they believe are directly related to snakes and associate with danger – is not a quick fix, even in cases of famine.
When seeking to fight against famine in the region, we worked closely with local churches and leaders to brainstorm creative solutions to combating malnutrition amongst the Turkana population. Today, we run a robust agricultural program in the region that helps expand and diversify the Turkana diet beyond traditional food sources, as well as teach desert farming techniques to help conserve water. We’re also breeding drought-resistant goats that can survive for longer periods of time without water when drought strikes, providing a prolonged food source for the people of Turkana.
Grassroots interventions like the ones in Turkana not only honor local knowledge, culture and community resources, but they also pave the way to break the cycle of Western aid that disempowers so many communities in the developing world.
It’s also precisely why, when we first enter communities, we begin by bringing local churches together to discuss the ways in which they can work together to solve their own problems. In fact, local pastors, community leaders and a global network of over 95,000 local volunteers are responsible for the implementation of our programs around the world. Our international staff, 95% of whom are local to the communities in which they work, have an inside voice and understanding that no outside organization can bring. What’s more, they will remain in their communities long after we depart — creating, leading and sustaining community efforts toward change.
Over the last six months, it has become apparent that the quick fixes and bandaid solutions our nation and our world have often gravitated toward are no longer working. The COVID-19 pandemic coupled with continued systemic racial injustices in the U.S. have shed light on the truth that problems must be faced at the root and lasting solutions cannot be rushed. It takes time, attention and intention to forge the path to lasting change, no matter what issue you’re trying to address.
At World Relief, we’re embracing this approach as we tackle some of the world’s biggest problems — disasters, extreme poverty, violence, oppression and mass displacement. We are devoted to addressing the root causes of these issues with locally-driven, sustainable solutions that ensure transformation remains long after World Relief is gone. Yes, this approach takes time. Yes, it is difficult to measure. Yes, in our culture of immediate gratification, it is hard. But we know this approach works. And we want you to join us in it.
Will you join us as we forge the path to lasting change?
DACA and Dream Act 101
Photo by EPA-EFE/ALBA VIGARAY
On June 18th, the U.S. Supreme Court blocked the Trump administration from ending Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) — at least for now. This is an answered prayer for hundreds of thousands of immigrants who were brought to the U.S. as children. For those who may not fully understand DACA and the issues surrounding it, we hope this brief primer will help.
What is DACA?
The short story is that DACA has provided a pathway for children and young adults who came to the United States with their parents to legally obtain a Social Security Number and driver’s license, to work lawfully, and to be protected from the threat of deportation. While their parents either came to the U.S. unlawfully or overstayed their visas, these kids usually had no choice but to come with their parents, and this immigration policy has provided opportunities for those youth who had already been in our country for years. DACA doesn’t offer a pathway toward permanent legal status or U.S. citizenship. It also doesn’t give individuals access to federal financial aid programs. It simply affords them the opportunity to further their own development, provide for themselves and their loved ones, and participate in their communities without fear of deportation.
Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA), announced by President Obama on June 15th, 2012, has allowed immigrants who
- Were born on or after June 16, 1981,
- Arrived to the United States before age 16 and
- Have lived in the U.S. since June 15, 2007
to be eligible for work authorization in the United States and protection from deportation in two-year renewable increments. These individuals are generally called “Dreamers,” named so after the DREAM Act, a piece of legislation first introduced in Congress in 2001 that would afford these individuals permanent legal status (but which, thus far, has not become law).
How many people have DACA?
About 800,000 have benefited from DACA since 2012.
Individuals from Mexico represent the largest number of DACA recipients, followed by El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Peru and South Korea.
Presently, slightly less than 700,000 individuals are protected by DACA, as some have been eligible to adjust to permanent legal status and others have elected not to renew their status or have become ineligible.
What would the termination of DACA mean?
It would mean that the roughly 700,000 children or young adults who are DACA recipients would –– at a minimum –– lose their jobs, which may mean lacking the income to make payments on a car loan, rent, mortgage or school tuition or to help support their families. It could also mean being sent back to their countries of birth, even though many cannot remember living in any country other than the U.S., where they have grown up.
The White House and Department of Justice announced the termination of DACA on September 5, 2017. Since that time, the Department of Homeland Security has not accepted any new applications for DACA. Individuals who had DACA at that time were told they had a short period of time when they were allowed to renew for a final two-year period.
However, several courts then put the Trump administration’s plans on a temporary hold, such that, for the past year, individuals with DACA have generally been able to renew their status, while no new DACA requests have been considered (including from those who turned 15 years old, and thus would have been eligible for the first time, since DACA was terminated).
What does the Supreme Court’s decision mean for DACA recipients?
On June 18, 2020, the U.S. Supreme Court announced its opinion on the various lower court challenges that had been brought to halt the termination of DACA. The majority of the justices agreed that the administration had not provided a legally adequate rationale for terminating DACA. For the moment, this means DACA remains open — though we are still waiting for further guidance from the U.S. Department of Homeland Security in terms of the process for renewals and the possibility of new qualifying applications.
However, the decision also makes clear that the current administration or a future administration could still terminate DACA if they provided a legally appropriate rationale. The only permanent solution to the situation of Dreamers is for Congress to pass a new law that would allow them to become Lawful Permanent Residents of the United States, which would be a prerequisite to applying for citizenship.
What is the DREAM Act?
A permanent solution.
The DREAM Act is the name of a bipartisan bill first introduced in 2001 to offer a permanent solution for Dreamers by allowing them to eventually earn citizenship if they go to college, maintain a job, or serve in the U.S. military. The DREAM Act has been introduced repeatedly but has not yet become law.
A version of the DREAM Act was included in the American Dream and Promise Act, which was passed in a bipartisan vote by the U.S. House of Representatives in June 2019. While a related bipartisan bill has been introduced in the U.S. Senate, the bill has not been considered by the full U.S. Senate at this time. To become law, a bill must generally be passed by both the House of Representatives and the Senate, then be signed by the president.
But aren’t Dreamers here illegally? Why should the U.S. allow them to stay?
While their parents made the choice to enter the U.S. illegally or overstay a visa, Dreamers, who were children when they arrived, did not make that choice for themselves. There’s no place in American law that penalizes children for the action of their parents. For many Dreamers, the U.S. is the only home they’ve ever known. Passing the DREAM Act or similar legislation is an opportunity to fix the law so that Dreamers correct their situation, earn citizenship and remain in the country they call home.
Where can I find more information?
Individuals who believe they may be eligible to renew or apply for DACA should immediately consult with an experienced immigration attorney or a non-profit organization (including many World Relief offices and local churches supported by World Relief) that is recognized by the U.S. Department of Justice to provide low-cost immigration legal services. Visit our website to find a location near you.
To explore the issue of immigration more broadly from a distinctly Christian perspective, we recommend books such as Welcoming the Stranger: Justice, Compassion and Truth in the Immigration Debate by World Relief’s Matthew Soerens and Jenny Yang and The God Who Sees: Immigrants, The Bible, and The Journey to Belong by World Relief’s Karen Gonzalez. You can also download a free small group guide, Discovering and Living God’s Heart for Immigrants or the Evangelical Immigration Table’s e-book, Thinking Biblically about Immigrants and Immigration Reform.
I support DACA and Dreamers, but I’m not sure how I — one person — can help. Do you have any ideas?
There are many ways you can help. Here are five simple ideas:
- For starters, consider following World Relief on social media (Facebook, Twitter and Instagram) to learn more and share posts you agree with.
- To take action, write your members of Congress urging them to support the DREAM Act. Signing this letter prepared by the Evangelical Immigration Table is a good place to start.
- Write and submit an op-ed or a letter to the editor of the local paper about why you support Dreamers.
- If you have a story to tell about yourself or someone you know who has DACA, consider sharing how it’s helped your or their life on social media. This is a human issue and we need to keep it humanized.
- Finally, provide financial support so that World Relief can continue to provide affordable, authorized, compassionate support to Dreamers and other immigrants in need of competent legal advice.
Search Us and Know Us
You have searched us oh Lord —
Prejudice lurks in every heart.
Racism in every mind.
Though they may hide themselves from consciousness,
they take root.
Lord, search us and know our heart.
We confess and grieve our sins
as well as those of our country and world.
Lead us oh God in the way everlasting,
as we commit ourselves to the long journey of fighting against systemic, interpersonal and individual racism in our hearts, homes, country and world.
5 Reasons for Hope
We are living in extraordinary times. The impact of the Coronavirus is being felt deeply across the world. Increasingly, this pandemic is disrupting our everyday lives and virtually every structure in our home cities and countries. This is a matter of great concern at every level of government and society, yet it is also a very real personal concern for each of us as we feel its impacts socially, economically and even mentally and spiritually.
It would be natural for us to consider the various risks swirling around us and pull back in fear. But while we may each understandably “visit” the place of fear, as the people of God, we must not “live” in such a place.
As those privileged to serve alongside you, we’d like to offer you five reasons for hope as we consider our calling and our posture in this time.
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Crisis is not new or unique to this moment in time.
Throughout history, the people of God have been called to live extraordinary lives – especially in times of crisis. We are not exempt from war, famine, violence or disease; rather we have been entrusted with the high calling to live in faith, hope and love when the foundations around us have been shaken. In a very real sense, we have been fashioned by God for such a time as this. He is trusting us to be his witness to a world facing fear and uncertainty. The unshakeable confidence and extraordinary love displayed by God’s people is our unique gift to those gripped by fear of an uncertain future.
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We have God’s Spirit.
The Apostle Paul reminded his young and timid protege, Timothy, “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind.” (2 Timothy 1:7). To have the courage to look outward when everything within us cries out to look inward is possible only by the Spirit of God. We cannot will ourselves to act with power, love or a sound mind; rather, we find these things coursing through our veins only as we surrender to the Spirit of Christ given to us by faith.
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We have God’s Promise.
Jesus told us we could expect troubling times. “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33). God has further assured us with these words, “Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you.” (Hebrews 13:5) These and many other scriptures remind us that God’s love for us is intimate, personal and faithful. We walk together in peace and confidence knowing we are secure in the love of God — whatever the days may hold.
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We have a compelling call.
We are compelled by love to fulfill our calling to be light amidst the darkness and to serve the most vulnerable. Love is our enduring motivation and allows us to live out our call in seasons of plenty or want, safety or danger, freedom or restriction, sickness or health. We know that sadly, it is the marginalized and vulnerable who will feel the greatest burden of this disease. Yet our calling compels us to go further, love bigger and give more to reach those who are most in need, yet often forgotten.
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We have one another.
Recent conversations with our staff as well as our church partners and individual supporters have been a life-giving reminder of our mutual love, respect and unity. We have experienced the power of shared conviction, calling and values of our global family, many of different national heritage, gender, culture and experience. There is a solidarity that unites us, empowers us and comforts us. Wherever in the world we are, we know we are in this together with one mind and one heart. Our solidarity in this cause gives us hope and keeps us moving forward.
God bless you and your families. Know that we are praying for you each and every day.
Scott Arbeiter retired from World Relief in 2021 as president after serving the organization in various roles for more than two decades and is a former pastor of Elmbrook Church in Brookfield, Wisconsin.
Take Comfort, Choose Courage
“A church in search of the vulnerable and isolated is an irresistible force for good and a worthy witness to the grace of God.”
-Scott Arbeiter, Christianity Today
Two months ago, very few of us were familiar with the term coronavirus, and even fewer of us had heard the more specific term, COVID-19. For those of us who were familiar, the novel coronavirus was something happening somewhere else. Today, somewhere else seems to be everywhere as the virus has spread to affect more than 150 countries worldwide, the United States included.
Things have moved quickly. In a matter of weeks, schools have closed, restaurants have shifted to take-out-only and some have closed their doors completely. Church gatherings have moved to strictly online platforms and many office workers have begun working from home for the foreseeable future. The change has been sudden, the uncertainty and anxiety palpable. But as our team has gathered together via Zoom over the last few days, we are reminded that in uncertain times like these, we can take comfort and choose courage.
Crisis and ambiguity are not new for the people of God. In fact, we, like the rest of humanity, have been experiencing crisis since the beginning of time. Throughout the Old Testament, the Israelites faced a number of crises including war, drought and famine, to name a few. Jesus himself was persecuted to the point of death, and throughout the book of Acts, the early church endured continued hardship in the form of violence and imprisonment. But even as the early Christians endured these adversities, they took comfort in knowing God was for them and, following Jesus’ example, they chose courage, continuing to serve the vulnerable in their communities.
This type of courage defined Christianity throughout the first and second centuries. In 165 A.D., 100 years after the book of Acts was written, a massive plague broke out that devastated the Roman Empire. Sickness and disease ran rampant for 15 years. Without the convenience of modern medicine, fear permeated Roman society, and the sick were left to fend for themselves. When all was said and done, more than five million people died, cutting the Roman Empire’s population by a third.
Nearly a century later, a second pandemic known as the Cyprian Plague erupted killing an estimated 5,000 people daily. These two epidemics shifted the cultural landscape of the Roman Empire, but amidst the fear, amidst the sickness and disease, one population’s response stood out among the distress — the Christians’.
In his book, The Rise of Christianity, sociology professor, Rodney Stark quotes the bishop of Alexandria at the time of the epidemic saying,
“[The] Christian values of love and charity had, from the beginning, been translated into norms of social service and community solidarity. When disasters struck, the Christians were better able to cope.”
When others were too afraid to go near the sick, Christians provided food and water to those affected by the disease, which greatly reduced mortality rates in the communities where they lived. Christians cared for anyone who had need, their selfless love and courageous acts of service allowing hope to grow.
While this early account of the church’s response to crisis is inspiring, we’ve seen this same type of courage and generosity play out in our 75+ years of work as we’ve partnered with local churches around the world. We think of our church volunteers in Haiti who banded together after a treacherous storm to assist those who were most affected. We think of our outreach group volunteers in Burundi who daily visit their neighbors to provide lessons on health, nutrition, savings and more. And in the United States, we’re already seeing people choose courage and mobilize compassion in support of neighbors affected by the COVID-19 crisis.
In Seattle, one of the cities most affected by this crisis in the U.S., our World Relief Seattle team has started training immigrants — some of the most vulnerable to the economic impact of the crisis — on how to access the community garden irrigation system in order to maintain their plots and provide produce for their families during this chaotic time of financial need. Volunteers who were previously assisting immigrant families in person are being asked to write notes of encouragement to those experiencing hardship and isolation. While we’ve had to close our physical office locations at this time, our teams are finding creative ways to support immigrants through virtual learning, access to health information in their languages and other vital resources.
Many newly arrived immigrants are falling victim to layoffs as they work in some of the hardest-hit industries in the U.S. — hotels, restaurants and other service-related fields. As we sit in the tension of the unknown, we echo the words our president, Scott Arbeiter, prayed at a recent staff meeting: teach us to be wise while also giving of ourselves freely.
We have often said in regards to immigration that compassion and security do not need to be mutually exclusive, and we believe the same sentiment applies here. The Christian response has shone brightly in times of crisis throughout history, and we pray that as we take comfort in the God who sees, that same courage would continue to shine today.
Rachel Clair serves as a Content Writer at World Relief. With a background in creative writing and children’s ministry, she is passionate about helping people of all ages think creatively and love God with their hearts, souls and minds.
Fear, Faith and the Force of the Church
It’s easy to feel anxious and fearful of what the future holds as the global COVID-19 pandemic and economic uncertainty loom large – for ourselves, our families, our World Relief community and those we serve in some of the most vulnerable regions around the world. Yet, we find comfort in knowing God is faithful, good and a keeper of his promises. At times like these, the social distinctions that can separate us are stripped away, and we are reminded: We are all human and we are all in this together. We are also reminded of the power of the local church.
Our President, Scott Arbeiter, reflected on this today in a piece published in Christianity Today. In it, he encourages us to move beyond fear, and think about how we might reach out in love to those who are most vulnerable in the midst of this crisis, while also protecting ourselves. We pray his words would be both comforting and encouraging to you during this time.
You can read the beginning of Scott’s piece below. Visit Christianity Today to read Scott’s full piece.
The World Health Organization has now officially recognized the COVID-19 crisis as a pandemic, with more than 100,000 individuals already known to be affected throughout the world. The numbers are likely to continue to rise quickly, both in the U.S. and globally, as the disease spreads and as testing capabilities are expanded.
As we take appropriate precautions to protect ourselves and our families, my prayer is that the church would earn the reputation for caring sacrificially for those who are most vulnerable in the midst of any crisis. This is possible, “for God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline” (I Timothy 1:7).
In the midst of any humanitarian crisis – whether a natural disaster, a war or a public health emergency – those who were vulnerable before the crisis tend to suffer most. When Haiti was struck by a devastating earthquake in 2010, the number of casualties was exponentially higher than when earthquakes of similar magnitudes have occurred elsewhere, because of recent flooding and inadequate infrastructure.
Though Haitians of all sorts were affected, those living in the most extreme poverty had the worst living conditions to begin with and also the least margin to respond to an unexpected crisis. Middle- and upper-class individuals generally have some savings to rely upon in the midst of a crisis; the poor are the most likely to become homeless, to lack adequate healthcare and to be forcibly displaced.
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