Beyond the Numbers: Recognizing Imago Dei

"What surprised me most was the individual stories of all the refugees...a lot of them have nowhere to go."

I read this reflection from a twelfth grader, a few days ago after I had spoken in their class. This is what happens when we move from headlines to human beings. When we stop talking about refugees as a ‘crisis,’ and start talking about real people (parents, teenagers, children, grandparents) with homes, dreams, and communities. People who flee their homes because they have been pushed out by circumstances beyond their control.

Last week, I was invited to share with high school seniors about forced displacement, refugeehood, and the complexities of immigration. I told stories of real people I know and people my friends have walked alongside.

I wasn't sure how it would land in a world where refugees are often reduced to statistics or threats.

From Assumptions to Faces

One student's honesty stood out to me: "It surprised me that these people are being forced out with no other choice..."

We talked about the complexities of fleeing your home. It's not showing up at a border and being welcomed with open arms. It's years of waiting, mountains of paperwork, interviews in different languages, background checks, starting over with nothing. It's trauma compounded by bureaucracy and backlogged applications. And for most people fleeing violence, there is no safe pathway at all.

"I didn't know you would have to go through all that to just be safe...it's not a small problem," another student reflected. I had just shared the scale of displacement today: 123.2 million people displaced (all of which carry individual stories, histories, pain, grief, and dreams).

A Biblical Lens

Couching our understanding of forced displacement between real stories and statistics, I also turned to the Bible to weave in a greater contextual and faith-understanding of God's heart for refugees and migrants. I shared examples of migration throughout Scripture: Hagar, the Israelites, Ruth, and Jesus himself.

Together, we studied Matthew 25:34-35: "the King will say to those on his right, 'Come you who are blessed by my Father...for I was hungry and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger and you invited me into your home."

Students reflected on what this means for their faith:

"By showing hospitality to strangers, we are showing hospitality to Christ," one wrote.

"We should treat asylum-seekers with the love we would treat Jesus with," said another.

And maybe most powerfully: "[This] opens my eyes that persecution and refugees are still very present in today's society... [we need to] treat refugees with the same love and compassion that Jesus shows us, because even He was a refugee."

Even He was a refugee. It's right there in Matthew 2. Mary and Joseph fleeing with infant Jesus to Egypt to escape Herod's violence. The Son of God himself knew displacement, seeking safety in a foreign land, depending on strangers' hospitality.

Seeing the Image of God

One student reflected: "Seeing biblical figures changes my perspective by understanding that refugees aren't a new thing and that good people around the world have been moved... [I have a] better understanding that refugees are all people made in God's image... [I] understand that God calls us to love one another."

Refugees aren't new. Throughout Scripture, God's people are constantly moving, often without any other option. Moses and the Israelites. Ruth. Mary, Joseph, and Jesus. The early church scattered by persecution.

Woven through all of it is God's consistent command: care for the stranger, the widow, the orphan, the vulnerable. Over and over. Not because it's easy or politically convenient, but because every person, regardless of immigration status, religion, or background, is made in God's image.

We read Deuteronomy 10:18-19 together:

God "defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the foreigner residing among you, giving them food and clothing. And you are to love those who are foreigners, for you yourselves were foreigners in Egypt."

One student noted: "wait that's so cool that God specifically says he cares for the fatherless and the widow, especially since we just learned how 42% of refugees are children. It's like God is specifically thinking of them."

He is. God specifically thinks of those most marginalized, those most vulnerable. He defends their cause and calls us to do the same.

What Stays With Me

I came into this last week, praying that students would catch a glimpse for God’s heart for the marginalized and to begin adopting his heart towards others–to see others through a lens of imago dei, to see them in dignity, compassion, and the same love Jesus extends to each of us.

After speaking to over sixty students, I left deeply grateful. Grateful for students willing to have assumptions challenged, who let individual stories dismantle stereotypes, who recognized this issue is deeply personal and profoundly biblical. (and for teachers who trusted me and invited me in to share my heart).

What about you? What assumptions about refugees or immigrants have you carried without questioning? What would it look like to move from headlines to human beings, to learn the names and stories of those seeking safety in your community?

Because when we show hospitality to strangers, we show hospitality to Christ himself. And that changes everything.

*If you're in the Seattle area and want to continue this conversation, I'd love to connect. Whether you're curious about refugee advocacy work, interested in learning how to get involved in your own community, or wondering if I might come speak to your church, school, or organization, reach out. These conversations matter, and I believe they're most powerful when we have them together.

Connect with Me!