By Beth Winze
I’ve wanted to blog since last Friday night. I wanted to say something the minute I saw the news on the Paris attacks. My heart was breaking as I watched the number of people involved climb into the numbers of deceased. It made me sick to see replays of Paris police storming the theater and flashes from gun muzzles end lives. I was a ball of odd emotions Friday night, sick to my stomach but also feeling it burn with acidic hate for a group of people who would do this to innocent lives. When Facebook came out with the filters, I changed my profile picture as a way to show that I cared, but had no real way to reach out and help besides lift up the hurting country in prayer. After the haze of the attack settled and facts began rolling out, so did the opinions of the multitudes. This past week, my Facebook has consisted of argument after argument as to the real facts, kill lists, who is responsible, and emerging stories of heroism during the attacks. But now while we are watching what seems to be the world falling apart at the seams, we are faced with another issue. That of Syrian people coming into our country. I hate blogging about politics because everyone has a difference of opinions and I don’t want to be a firestarter for pointless and exhaustive internet debates. But throughout the week, I have again and again been confronted with my stance on Syrian refugees coming into the US.
The American in me screams “no”. I feel for them, I do. They are victims of a terrifying reign called ISIS, who is hell-bent on spreading terror. But the importance of our national safety and protecting our country rings louder than protecting those who are not of United States citizenship. I want to see the American citizens protected first and foremost. Send aid to them overseas, provide shelter and protection for them in their homeland, but don’t open borders that cause a massive weakness in national security. The Criminal Justice major in me also sees heavy flaws in allowing foreigners in here without being heavily vetted. The very idea of them bringing even one or two terrorists in with them is enough to turn my knees weak with terror.
The Christian in me, says bring them in. They are a fleeing, scared, and hurting group of people who need shelter, food and a sense of peace to escape what they have been dealing with. I, not even less than three months ago, reposted that picture of the Syrian boy who had died drowning while trying to seek refuge with his family. I too felt my heart break as I looked over pictures of millions of lost Syrians seeking help. Matthew 25: 35-40 speaks volumes into this issue; feed them, bathe them, reach out to them, love them. These very people are a way to expose God’s grace and unrelenting love to the world.
This is where I’m at……
I’m stuck between the paralyzing fear of what opening our borders could do and the very realization that God calls us to rise up and care for those in need. So now you may understand the title of this post. I have no conclusion. I’m on a weird journey of college essays, finals study guides, and finding the common ground in this Syrian refugee ordeal. Not knowing answers is frustrating and exhausting. I don’t know what I should feel. This is where being a Christian in the world but not of it proves to be the hardest. So I guess you could say I’m seeking out an affirmation on which feeling I should follow. This is the reality of our society and this is the reality of Christianity.