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Here to Stay

A little over a week ago, we received some very sad news. Texas Governor Greg Abbott sent a letter to the federal government announcing that he would halt all future refugee resettlement to the state of Texas – an authority given to states in a recent executive order. 

That decision has been a huge disappointment to the hundreds of people seeking refuge in our country.

Texas has historically been a leader in welcoming refugees to the United States, resettling over 60,000 in the last decade, more than any other single state. As a Texan, I know that these resilient women, men and children have become an integral part of the Lone Star State, contributing significantly to our state’s economic growth and becoming beloved parts of our churches, schools and communities.

In his letter, Governor Abbott implied that refugees are a burden. Our forty years of experience working with refugees in Texas has proven that, far from that, they are a blessing to the communities that welcome them.

Many of these refugees-turned-Texans have loved ones abroad who are waiting for approval to resettle in the U.S. World Relief has been reuniting families like these who have been torn apart by violence and oppression for decades. The moment a father sees his children for the first time in several years is a moment that leaves you speechless. It is a moment that illustrates so much of our call as Christians to welcome the stranger. That moment should not be banned in Texas.

Similarly, thousands of the refugees welcomed in Texas over the past decade have been persecuted Christians — families who have fled their homes simply because of the very faith we share with them. At World Relief, we’ve had the privilege of joining with local churches to welcome these brothers and sisters in Christ, trusting Jesus’ words in Matthew 25, that in doing so, we are actually welcoming Him.

Over the past week, we have received calls from volunteers, donors, concerned Texans and churches who love and welcome refugees as part of their core ministry. They’ve asked us what this means for the refugees and immigrants they love and for our office.

We have one answer: Refugees and other vulnerable immigrants are here to stay, and so are we. God has called us to welcome and serve the most vulnerable, and so we continue.

Like you, we are deeply saddened when our leaders choose to turn away from the most vulnerable among us. Nevertheless, we are determined to continue helping you answer God’s call. Immigrants will continue to come to Texas. Thousands of refugees are already part of our communities, and they still need us.

At World Relief, your donations will provide refugees and other vulnerable immigrants with the vital services they need to start their new life. Your voice will help us continue to build welcoming communities in Texas. Your volunteer hours and our church partners will continue to bring people together to create lasting change in the lives of refugees and immigrants.

We celebrated last week when the Federal Court System issued an injunction against the Executive Order that allowed Governor Abbott to restrict the Church’s ability to welcome refugees. That ruling, however, isn’t permanent. While we know the future can seem uncertain, we will not ignore our calling. Together, we will stand with the vulnerable in Texas no matter what.


Troy Greisen is the director of World Relief Fort Worth.

Friendly Soil

“…These victims of war and oppression look hopefully to the democratic countries to help them rebuild their lives and provide for the future of their children. We must not destroy their hope. The only civilized course is to enable these people to take new roots in friendly soil. “ – Harry Truman, 1947

 

 

A National Crisis

243 years ago, a vision for America was penned in our founding documents, couched in the truth that all are created equal and deserving of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. These values have been reinstilled and affirmed time and time again throughout our history, and though our nation has never perfectly reflected these ideals, at our best moments we’ve proudly lived up to, and drawn strength from them.

Today, our world is facing the worst displacement crisis since WWII, with over 26 million men, women and children fleeing violence, poverty and oppression. And yet, this year, our nation will admit less than half of 1% of those searching for a place to rebuild their homes. Contrast our history with these realities and it’s hard not to conclude that America is facing an identity crisis—one which threatens to undermine an identity painstakingly forged over hundreds of years as America became a haven of hope for those seeking a safer, more promising place to build a future.

We wish it were different. This crisis is heartbreaking. It’s exhausting. And it’s painful. But we cannot, and must not lose heart.

The Less Told Story

That’s why this holiday season, we want to tell you a different story. It’s a story of love, hope and perseverance. A story of flourishing communities and biblical welcome. A story that may not be making headlines, but which moves as a powerful undercurrent, creating lasting change in small pockets across our country. It starts with the profound conviction that we are all made equal in the eyes of God, and with the belief that beneath the weary faces of those fleeing violence and oppression, hope springs eternal. Most importantly, it starts with the knowledge that love is the catalyst that makes all things possible.

This season, we chose to celebrate this story. And while we mourn the state of our nation, we choose to press on with joy, and in faith, because this is a story worth rejoicing in. One which has the power to overcome the narrative of fear in our nation and heal our deepening divisions.

This is not a singular story. It is one made up of hundreds of moments, milestones and achievements. It begins in English language classes in Chicago, legal services in Atlanta and job readiness training in Memphis. It gathers strength in community gardening projects in Seattle, trauma counseling in Winston-Salem and women’s sewing clubs in Spokane. And it overcomes all odds at college graduations in Durham, job promotions in Sacramento and citizenship ceremonies in D.C. It rewrites futures, rebuilds homes and restores belonging.

The Paradise Parking Lots

Perhaps nowhere is this story better manifested than in Kent, Washington, where a once small partnership between World Relief Seattle and Hillside Church has exploded into a transformational, citywide movement. Originally partnering with World Relief to provide space and volunteers to teach English language classes to immigrants, today the parking lot of Hillside Church, newly dubbed the Paradise Parking Plots, boasts a blossoming, 1-acre community garden.

Its community is made up of 47 families spanning 22 nations, over 1,400 volunteers, and a handful of local businesses, schools and government groups. Beyond the garden’s initial goal of providing refugees and other immigrants in vulnerable situations with a place to grow familiar foods, cultivate community and connect with the earth in their new urban environment, the Paradise Parking Plots are leading the way in Green initiatives, using rainwater cisterns to provide irrigation and addressing local flooding issues. Innovation around this project has won the Green Globe Award from King County, and provides environmental internship opportunities for local refugee high school students who then go on to mentor other youth in environmental science at World Relief’s Summer Camp. What’s more, Hillside church will soon open a commercial kitchen space for micro-enterprise cooking activities to take place, expanding opportunities and increasing the impact that the garden lots provide.

Perhaps most importantly, this project is providing a place for people from all walks of life to come together, fostering friendships between both new and long-term community members from every tribe, tongue and creed. Here, immigrants and native-born Americans are growing and flourishing together. They are finding a sense of unity, family and belonging. They are finding the community that makes ‘home’ feel like home.

A Vision for Lasting Change

The story of the Paradise Parking Plots is just one of the many parts that make up the story of what we’re doing together across the U.S., and it’s one you should feel proud to be a part of. It is a story of hope overcoming despair. Of unity over division. And of peace over fear. Above all, it is a story of love triumphing over hate. Though it’s quiet, and too often lost amidst the dominant political narratives, this story inspires us with vision and with hope. And it stands as a powerful reminder of what could be when we come together to create lasting change in our communities.

Lasting change starts with a shared vision of what could be possible, and calls people to that vision. It requires commitment and perseverance, but often the results exceed even our own expectations. This is what we hope and pray for as we work together to transform lives and communities across the U.S.

For over 40 years, we’ve welcomed and helped integrate over 300,000 refugees and other vulnerable immigrants to communities all across our nation, rebuilding lives and creating communities of love and welcome that we all feel proud to be a part of. We do so not only because we believe in this nation of immigrants, and the strength and power of America as a land of hope and opportunity for all, but because we believe it is our calling as Christians to welcome the orphan, the widow and the least of these.

Today, this calling faces more hurdles than perhaps ever before. Yet these hurdles gives us all the more reason to fight. And to fight harder. Because we believe we are called to such a time as this — to stand as light amidst the darkness, and to be the voice of compassion, justice and above all, love.


Francesca Albano currently serves as Director of Branded Content at World Relief. With a background in Cultural Anthropology and a graduate degree in Strategic Marketing Communications, she connects her interests in societal studies and global cultures with her training in brand strategy and storytelling. Francesca is especially passionate about grassroots community development and the treatment and advancement of women and girls around the world.

Presidential Determination

Late Friday night, President Trump signed the annual presidential determination of the maximum number of refugees who could be resettled to the United States in the upcoming fiscal year. The number, 18,000, is historically low. By comparison, in 1980 the refugee ceiling was set at 231,700, and in 2016, it was set at 110,000. With 25.9 million refugees in the world, the largest number in recorded history, we’re saddened that the U.S. is doing less than ever to offer safety and freedom to refugees. 

Among those shut out by this decision are many individuals who have been persecuted because of their faith, Christians included. In Fiscal Year 2015, more than 15,000 Christian refugees were resettled in the U.S. These Christian refugees came from the ten countries the U.S. State Department identifies as “countries of particular concern” for egregious violations of religious freedom, including Iran, Pakistan and Burma. By Fiscal Year 2018, that number had declined to just 3,048 Christian refugees.

The reduction in the overall number of resettled refugees also negatively impacts other persecuted religious minorities, including Yezidis who are persecuted in Iraq and Syria, Jewish refugees persecuted in Iran and Muslim refugees – including the Rohingya – from Burma.

Of the 18,000 refugees who might be allowed to be resettled in Fiscal Year 2020, the president’s determination allocates 5,000 for all religious minorities, ensuring that this year – as was the case last year and the year before – the U.S. will resettle far fewer persecuted religious minorities than our historic norm, turning our backs as a nation on those persecuted for their faith.

We encourage you to reach out to your Member of Congress and ask him or her to support legislation that would restore the U.S. refugee resettlement program so that the U.S. would once again receive at least the 95,000 refugees annually that represents the average refugee ceiling since 1980.


Matthew Soerens serves as the U.S. Director of Church Mobilization for World Relief and is the coauthor of Welcoming the Stranger: Justice, Compassion and Truth in the Immigration Debate (InterVarsity Press, 2018). Follow Matthew on Twitter.

I Survived the Vietnam War to Become a Proud American

I was born in Southern Vietnam in 1953. I grew up just like any other boy in my country and had a happy childhood.

Then news about war in Vietnam gradually appeared on the front pages of newspapers in the 1960’s, and things began to change

Like many young men in wartime, I reported for military service in South Vietnam at just 18 years of age. I learned we’d be fighting alongside our American allies, which filled many of us with hope. Little did we know, however, that the war in Vietnam would carry on for 19 years and four months. It finally ended in April of 1975, and I was sent to prison for a year for fighting on the South Vietnam side. Afterward, I was told to relocate to a wild area of the jungle called the “New Economic Zone.” Instead, I went to my mother’s hometown in the countryside and made my living as a farmer.

As a former South Vietnamese soldier, I knew I couldn’t stay in the country. My children would not be allowed to pass high school education. They would be barred from being successful people in society. But escape was difficult, very difficult. People who were caught trying to escape would serve long prison terms. After several failed attempts at escaping by myself, I paid a local fisherman to smuggle me out in his boat. Two days after we left, the boat’s engine failed, and a navy ship from Malaysia rescued us.

I was placed in a refugee camp in Malaysia, where I volunteered to work as part of the camp government. It was there I learned that because of my background, I would be resettled as a refugee in the West. As part of the U.S. refugee process, I was sent to the Philippines, where I learned that my future life would be in the U.S.

I finally entered America for the first time in August of 1989 and was welcomed by volunteers from a local church community. They gave me a room to live in and assisted me in acclimating to life in a strange new country. 

At first, I was intimidated. Life was fast-paced, and there was a lot to get used to. For instance, coming from a tropical country, I was terrified of the cold. I didn’t have a TV so I never knew the weather report for the day. I would stick my hand out the window in the morning to see what it felt like so I knew what to wear. When winter came, I made the mistake of washing my winter coat and then hanging it outdoors to dry. When I brought it in at the end of the day, it had frozen to ice.

I was also mistrustful of Christians when I first arrived in America. To my knowledge, the Vietnamese kings did not like Christianity when it first spread to Vietnam. In the late 19th century, the French army came to “protect” new Vietnamese Christians from persecution, which eventually led to the French colonization of my country, and that lasted for almost a hundred years. Growing up a Buddhist, I was naturally suspicious of Christians.

But then I came to America, and people who didn’t share my religion or language – people who had nothing in common with me – went out of their way to help me.

They helped me simply because they cared about me, a stranger, and that caused something to change in me. I wanted to know what this religion was that inspired people to care for me like that so I began attending church. Eventually I, too, became a Christian.

Today, I am a leader in my church. I am also a father and grandfather. My son became a U.S. Marine and is now a junior pastor. I work as a social worker for World Relief, helping other refugees adjust to life in the U.S. I feel blessed to be able to do this work. I understand that many refugees have survived harrowing ordeals and are skeptical of receiving help at first. I use my experience to help them regain their trust in people. I love the work I do.

My brother and sister also became U.S. citizens, but my 94-year-old mother still lives in Vietnam. In 30 years, I have only been able to visit her there four times. My heart aches from missing my mother, but I still don’t feel safe going back there.

When I was in prison in Vietnam, defeated and suffering, I never imagined I could have this kind of life. I want Americans to know how truly blessed they are. Here, we pursue the ideals of freedom and equality. In this country, the poor and the rich shop side-by-side at Walmart. No one is above the law. If people disagree with the government, they can voice their opinions and not be afraid of retaliation.

This is the United States I love and am proud to belong to. I appreciate the opportunity to live in freedom. I hope that by coming together, embracing the American ideals of freedom and equality, and shouldering our societal responsibilities, we can assure the American public refugees and other immigrants are worth welcoming.

Some people say what I endured as a young man, and my experience as a refugee, is remarkable. But I disagree. Living in this country – a country where people are willing to step forward and help strangers simply because it is good and right – that is the remarkable thing.


Chau Ly is a former refugee and social worker at World Relief.

The Potential End to the U.S. Refugee Program Is More than a Political Crisis – It’s an Identity One

America is facing an identity crisis.

It’s a crisis that threatens to undermine an identity painstakingly forged over hundreds of years — years during which America became a haven of hope for those seeking a safer, more promising place to build a future.

The United States recently proposed a plan to effectively eliminate asylum opportunities for those arriving at the U.S. border. Likewise, talks of zeroing out the number of refugees admitted into the U.S. coupled with Ken Cuccinelli’s recent remarks that the Statue of Liberty’s welcoming inscription was directed solely towards “people coming from Europe” and those “who can stand on their own two feet,” mark a clear rejection of the compassionate identity that once distinguished the United States in the world.

A Symbol of Freedom

Few Americans recall the unifying details behind the Statue of Liberty’s creation in 1875. Though France financed the statue, the U.S. agreed to provide the site and build the pedestal. A lack of funds for the pedestal, however, put the project in jeopardy until Joseph Pulitzer started a fundraising campaign. Emma Lazarus’s famous poem welcoming “your tired, your poor, your huddled masses,” which Cuccinelli referenced, was penned as part of this fundraiser.

More than 120,000 people contributed to the pedestal project, most of them giving less than a dollar. Donors, many of them immigrants themselves, didn’t have much, but they gave what they had to the cause of liberty and inclusion. This legacy continued when President Reagan commissioned Lee Iacocca, then Chairman of Chrysler Corporation and himself a child of immigrants, to raise funds from the public for the restoration of the same statue. Again, the American people contributed hundreds of millions to repair the symbol of freedom.

A Place of Asylum

America has historically viewed itself as both a home for immigrants and a place of asylum. Many of the first American settlers came to escape religious persecution in Europe. In 1776 Thomas Paine argued that America should be a place that embraces the persecuted, explaining that “This new world hath been the asylum for the persecuted lovers of civil and religious liberty from every part of Europe.”

We lived up to this calling during the Cold War, when we admitted over 3 million refugees impacted by Soviet repression, and during the 1960s, we admitted over 14,000 unaccompanied children from Cuba.

In contrast, the times in which our country has excluded immigrants and refugee seekers are among the most shameful in our history. When Nazi racial policies first began expelling non-ethnic Germans, U.S. immigration laws were restrictive, limited by a rigid quota system. As a result, the U.S. turned away the St. Louis, a ship carrying nearly one thousand German Jews, essentially sending them back to die. And when a bipartisan bill requested the admission of 20,000 Jewish child refugees, it didn’t even make it out of committee.

The remorse that ensued haunted our country and was largely responsible for what became the new, more open refugee policies that have rescued thousands from persecution and death around the world since World War II.

Today, we’re being called to defend the cause of liberty and sanctuary again. Refugees and asylum seekers from around the world have long looked to America as a place to raise their families in safety after enduring extreme violence and persecution.

Here’s the problem: As a nation, we’ve been comfortable for so long that we’ve forgotten what it’s like to struggle for necessities like food, clothing, shelter and life. We’ve forgotten that small acts of kindness aren’t small to those in desperate situations. And, most importantly, we’ve forgotten how these acts define us as a nation.

A Nation of Immigrants

We also seem to have forgotten America’s immigrant history. United States Citizenship and Immigration Services recently changed its mission statement to remove a phrase describing America as “a nation of immigrants.” And yet we can’t deny that immigration is woven into the very fabric of our nation. The diversity that has shaped our identity as a “melting pot” has enabled us to assume our place of leadership in the world. More than half of America’s billion-dollar startups, for example, have immigrant founders, and immigrants now create a quarter of new businesses in the U.S. One in eight members of our current Congress are immigrants or children of immigrants, and one in six U.S. health care workers are immigrants.

America has long set the standard of refugee resettlement for the rest of the world. We are not arguing in favor of open borders, but if we close our doors completely to immigrants and refugees, the rest of the world may well follow suit, exacerbating the global crisis and erasing the identity our country has worked so hard to build.

While we cannot take on the responsibility of solving all the world’s problems, we owe it to ourselves, and to all who came before us, to embrace our identity as a nation of immigrants — a nation of hope, safety and refuge. If we don’t, we will lose something inherently American. We will become smaller, not just to those outside our borders but to those inside as well.

We must decide, once again, what kind of people we want to be, and who we will become.


Tim Breene served on the World Relief Board from 2010 to 2015 before assuming the role of CEO from 2016-2020. Tim’s business career has spanned nearly 40 years with organizations like McKinsey, and Accenture where he was the Corporate Development Officer and Founder and Chief Executive of Accenture Interactive. Tim is the co-author of Jumping the S-Curve, published by Harvard Publishing. Tim and his wife Michele, a longtime supporter of World Relief, have a wealth of experience working with Christian leaders in the United States and around the world.

5 Ways You Can Help

Last week, we learned that vulnerable children and families are being detained in inadequate facilities and threatened with deportation. If you’re like us, you believe that families belong together, and that this is a grave injustice that we must fight back against. As Christians, and as Americans. 

As you contemplate how you can respond to this crisis, here are five things you can do right now to help vulnerable immigrants, both at our Southern border and here in the United States.

A Call to Stand for Religious Freedom

Today, June 20th, marks World Refugee Day. According to just released data by UNHCR, there are more than 70 million displaced persons around the world. Half of them are children, and in 2018, 13.6 million people were newly displaced. When the world is seeing historic levels of displacement, we have the opportunity to help. Strengthening refugee resettlement will help not only promote international religious freedom but also be a life-saving tool of protection for a small number of vulnerable refugees. With 40 signatories from a wide range of faith traditions, we ask U.S. government leaders to remember a deeply rooted belief that each person should be able to freely practice their faith.

Refugees and Displaced People Around the World

Behind every journey is sacrifice, love and hope – behind every person is a unique story to be celebrated and honored.

As refugee and immigrant families resettle into their new homes, lives are not only being rebuilt but hundreds of people are thriving through the love and support of community.

Watch and learn about these journeys to a new land.

Refugees and Displaced People Around the World

For over 75 years, we’ve been coming alongside families displaced by violence, poverty and injustice — both in the U.S. and across the world.  

Today, more than 70 million people have been displaced from their home due to war, persecution or violence. That’s one man, woman or child every 2 seconds. This global crisis is the worst its been since World War II, and continues to worsen.

But with your help, we have been able to serve thousands around the world.

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