Look at the Birds of the Air
Dear friends,
I’ve been biking a lot this summer, and I try to always wear my bike helmet. That’s in part to protect my brain should I have some sort of an accident – but the real reason I always wear my helmet is a bit less rational: I’m afraid of birds.
Not all birds, of course – I have no problems with robins, sparrows or ducks, and the occasional sighting of a bald eagle is awe-inspiring. But I am afraid of red-winged blackbirds. My phobia goes back to my childhood. One of my earliest memories is of my next door neighbor mowing his lawn as his wife followed behind with a tennis racket, swatting away dive-bombing red-winged blackbirds to prevent them from pecking at his head and, I presumed, killing him. Hence, my bike helmet, protecting my head from murderous red-winged blackbirds.
The irony is that, while birds can be a source of anxiety for me, Jesus tells us to look at the birds of the air as a reminder not to be anxious – because our Heavenly Father cares for the birds and will certainly care for us, who are worth far more than them (Matthew 5:25-27). I’ve been thinking about that passage a lot – and listening to Jon Guerra’s song on that theme, “I See the Birds,” on repeat – because it’s been a season with a lot of worries for those who care about immigrants.
Late last week, hundreds of thousands of Haitians – including some whom I know personally – got confirmation that the U.S. government is terminating their Temporary Protected Status (TPS). They have just over two months before they will lose their legal status and work authorization, meaning most will lost their jobs and many will face deportation to a country facing such severe violence that the Federal Aviation Administration will not even allow U.S. airlines to operate flights into the capitol city’s airport.
That follows similar terminations of TPS for Venezuelans and Afghans, and terminations of humanitarian parole for individuals from those and various other countries. Many have received menacing instructions to self-deport or face fines, prosecution or forced deportation.
Earlier this week, I saw a video on social media of a pastor in California – someone I know, at whose church I preached some years ago – pleading with masked immigration officers to have mercy on Iranian members of his church as they were being detained. They’re among those who entered lawfully with a humanitarian parole status that’s recently been terminated, and they fear that if deported back to Iran, they will be killed because of their faith in Jesus. It’s a hard video to watch.
Lately, it feels like my social media feed is almost exclusively troubling videos like this – and, well, it’s a lot. As a follower of Jesus, I think it’s important that I not give into apathy. It’s important that I care – that I financially support churches and ministries meeting the physical, psychological and spiritual needs of people who are vulnerable, that I check in on my friends who are directly impacted by these dynamics, that I advocate for just policies – but the lesson of Jesus’ words about the birds is that even as I care about these things, I need not carry them. I can bring them to God in prayer, trusting that He is with me and with those for whom I care. “Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7).
Looking at the birds,
Matthew Soerens
National Coordinator, Evangelical Immigration Table
P.S. We’re excited that our annual Evangelical Immigration Table Convening will take place this year on September 30 in Nashville, Tennessee. Registration is already open (register here), happening in tandem with the Leading the Way event hosted annually by our friends at the National Immigration Forum. We encourage you to join us for both events!
