The church and xenophobia

I have just been speaking to a friend who had been very involved in one of the biggest refugee camps that was started shortly after the xenophobic attacks began to hit the news some months ago. In short, the concerns he raised have shocked me. Once again I have been reminded that the fools who do not learn from history are destined to repeat it.

These xenophobic attacks that made headlines across my country and further afield have now dropped out of the news into non-existence. Or have they? The media has lost interest in the story. It’s old news. So the public has lost interest along with it, and all the while thousands of people are still living in unforgiving circumstances in refugee camps scattered across the country. Too terrified to return to the communities they fled. Many are desperate enough to want to return to their home countries (which are also deeply ravaged by poverty and violence) so that they can at least die on home soil.

Apparently a recent poll has revealed the attitude of about 65% of the South Africans interviewed, namely “they’re all criminals anyway” and “these foreigners should just get out of our country and go back where they came from!” (Of course, need it be mentioned that these comments don't seem to be directed toward all the European foreigners working and studying in our country?)

The prevailing attitude towards this “problem” is more and more beginning to resemble the same mindset that existed in the early days of the apartheid era (and apparently also resembling the onset of the Nazi regime in Germany). As I stood there amazed at what I heard, I was more shocked to realise that these comments were exactly what I could imagine coming from the mouths of people in my own family. Not too long ago, they could have been my words.

On the surface South Africa seems to have come a long way from her dark past of racially discriminating laws and policies… but has the mindset behind them really been changed? Have we taken the lessons that were so painfully learnt and applied them in our lives? Or are we merely happy to go on, oblivious to the cries around us, as long as they don’t intrude into our own personal space?

I sometimes watch the news together with a bunch of the guys from our college residence. When the xenophobic attacks started making headlines one friend stunned me with a revelation: If the xenophobia had to reach our college I’d be the only one left in the room. The friends I had been watching with included my Zimbabwean fiancé, some other Zimbabweans, an Angolan and his German wife, an Ethiopian, a Tanzanian and even one guy from the Sudan.

Looking around that room I was both horrified and awed. Horrified that people could possibly wish harm on any of these people merely because of their nationality, and awed by the vision of God’s grace in creating from people of so many different backgrounds one family.

Our government likes to put the attacks down to “criminal elements”, because crime is an easier thing to deal with than the deep underlying hatred that leads one man to turn on another, ignoring his humanity and right to life. But the problem goes much deeper than crime. Its root is in the heart, and the heart is where the healing is needed if our country is ever to be reconciled.

But what role are we, in the church, to take in this reconciliation?
In Ephesians we read of how Jesus Christ’s own blood was the price it took to break down the dividing wall between men. So we as the body of our Lord would be ignoring that very high cost that he paid if we were to neglect to take seriously his call to be peacemakers (Matthew 5:9).

Personally, I get easily overwhelmed by things of this magnitude and often wonder what I could possibly do. But we as the church have a responsibility to not stand by and with our silence support the status quo when that status quo demeans the humanity of our brothers and sisters. Prayer is a start, but we need to be willing to put our prayers into effect if we are to truly desire an end to the hatred.

My friend’s solution is both simple and profound. We need to make these nameless, faceless people into our family. We need to take them as our friends. Because only then will we be unable to stand by and do nothing in the face of their suffering.

The love of Christ ought to compel us to action, to give us a desire for justice and mercy. These are our brothers and sisters out there. Some belong to our body. Others are lost. But they are God’s creatures, deserving all the dignity and respect and love that come with that. And when we get to know them, we will find ourselves able to love them and eager to see their troubles ended.