Refugee

Compound

Town




“Half the babies born in the world are born in Asia today. Half of the world’s refugees are in Africa today going from country to country to find bread. Jesus, born in Palestine, that’s west Asia, the African refugee, understands the problems of the people…” Ray Bakke, Urbana 06

I’ve been doing some thinking today about Jesus the refugee. In the Christmas story a lot is made about the shepherds and magi, about the angles and the worship, but very little is made of the escape; of the little boys being slaughtered while the King made a daring dash across the desert to the green banks of the Nile. Jesus was a refuge, and in Africa nonetheless!!!
Refugees have a far too common presence in Africa. Country after country has displaced its people in wars over power, entitlement, wealth and food. The people set up mini-cities made of tents, which after years become more and more permanent as hope of a return home becomes bleak. They live on rations labeled, “From the American People” or “A Gift from the European Union”, and are supported by the booming business called International Relief. After years the people forget what it was like to dig a garden or have a job and the children grow up on stories of a home they have never seen.
Jesus was a refugee. I wonder what stories he heard. I am sure he heard of Moses, the great deliver, who had turned the water into blood and later parted the sea. Perhaps he was told of the temple, where he had been blessed by Simeon, and about the green hills of Galilee. We might never know what he was told, but one thing is certain, all refugees tell stories of home.
Jesus was a refugee. Somehow I find comfort in that. I find comfort in knowing that the King understands. He understands the children who are returning home to Sudan without having seen it. He understands the years away from home. He understands that this world we live in is not an easy place, or a fair place – after all, a whole village of boys died because he was born there.