Refugees and Stolen Stuff: A Picture in Contrast

So how much do luxuries really matter? Allow me to recount the ways it really doesn't.

Some friends of mine and I have been spending some time with a refugee family from Iraq, new to the U.S. for about 2 months now (I've spoken of this family before on this blog). on Sunday, they had 4 of us over to their house for lunch, and they wanted to take us on a picnic, Iraqi-food style. This family has a husband and wife plus 6 young and energetic daughters, so going anywhere isn't a simple task. As such, we decided we'd walk to the park a few blocks from their home.

But before we went to the park, we got to spend some time with the mom and eldest daughter. In all our communication problems (they don't speak much English), we were able to discern some of the horror stories they saw and heard while living in Baghdad. It was an eery and sobering experience to hear of the things they saw in Baghdad at the height of the war there. I never realized how international affairs really shape people on the ground. I never thought I'd create a friendship with those who knew those atrocities firsthand.

Once some other family members got ready, though, we headed off to the park. We spent hours there eating delicious food, kicking soccer balls, throwing frisbees, and watching the girls ride their bikes. These girls are so full of life one would have to be on death's doorstep not to be enlived along with them. It was a true joy and a delightful afternoon.

Eventually time came for parting as everyone grew tired. I said my goodbyes and walked off to my car. And when I got to my car, I realized my iPod was missing. I knew I had listened to music on the way to their house so I thought I had just misplaced it in a bag or it had fallen below a seat or something. But after ten solid minutes of searching my car, I came to the conclusion that my iPod was gone and likely stolen. I also remembered a very brief time when my car was unattended and I might not have locked it.

Though I was frustrated with myself for not being certain about the car being locked, I was never too angry. Do I think stealing is wrong? Absolutely. Your reading the words of a guy who gave lectures to his friends in high school about the wrongs of illegally downloaded music. But I never got angry. For some reason I couldn't.

My outgoing senior pastor (he's leaving for a new post and I wish him well) always commends to those he leads to read prayer requests of the persecuted Christian church worldwide (here or here). He suggests that American Christians practice this discipline first so that we can be mindful in prayer for Christians all over the world. Second, truly caring about persecuted Christians sometimes diminishes the petty difficulties in life.

And in that vein, that was the disposition of my heart yesterday. I did not consciously think, "I will not get angry." I just wasn't. I had just spent hours with a family who experienced unimaginable horrors (there are many stories I could share but choose not to for anonymity's sake; believe me, they are tough stories). My picture of suffering was incredibly limited when compared to theirs.

Perhaps this is why Jesus remarks:

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Mt. 5:10

I'm certainly not suggesting that I am righteous, nor am I suggesting that my friend's were persecuted because of righteousness. What I am suggesting is that experiencing, knowing, and caring for those in real persecution allows one to be more receptive to the character of Jesus. And this is a worthy pursuit in life.