Jesus was a refugee… for some months, as an infant. He then returned, with his parents, to their homeland. Thereafter, they were no longer refugees.
While it might be argued that he had been a refugee (in the past perfect tense), throughout his ministry and as an adult he categorically was not.
Lest the reader feel antagonistic about a challenge to their convictions – or otherwise feel emboldened in opposition to humanitarian efforts – let me first affirm this: Throughout Scripture, we are taught to have a posture of love toward the poor, the outcast, the foreigner.
There are obvious ways in which Jesus’ flight to Egypt was akin to the plight of a refugee escaping dire circumstances. It is not at all unreasonable that a Christian would hear echoes of the one in the other.
And it is nothing less than profound that God, in the incarnate Christ, humbled himself to suffer as a man in a relatively lowly position.
But while some activists and theologians have made Jesus’ “refugee” experience a significant part of his ‘identity’, this is a very modern reconstruction and not how Matthew 2:13-23 tells the story.
Let us not bury the lede: The infant Jesus himself was the intended target of King Herod’s decree to assassinate the Messiah.
Being the only passage in Scripture that references this event, Matthew is explicit in explaining its significance as nothing more and nothing less than a fulfilment of prophecy (see verse 6, verse 15, verse 17, and verse 23).
Joseph and Mary’s migration to Bethlehem, their sojourn to Egypt, and their return to Galilee were all to satisfy prophecies regarding the origin of the Messiah.
To substitute Jesus’ experience with the modern notion of ‘refugee’, the story is unmoored from its Scriptural context. From there, all manner of heresy may follow.
While favouring Biblical terms such as ‘sojourner’, ‘exile’, or ‘fugitive’ would be more contextually appropriate than ‘refugee’, it must still be recognised that Scripture does not attribute to him any such status.
The presentation of Jesus as an asylum seeker of any description frames the Gospel story in a way that Scripture simply does not.
The entire account is outlined in Matthew chapter 2, and it is remarkable how little is said. Jesus himself never makes mention of this event, nor does any author throughout the rest of the Bible.
With the arrival of “Jesus was a refugee” as a politically loaded slogan, imposing this anachronistic status and making it central to our Lord’s identity, the Christian has much to consider. This includes affirming what Scripture does say about the issue and being upfront about that which it does not.
For some, this new doctrine is embraced for its appeal to a social justice mindset, founded (to some extent) upon Scriptural ethics in regard to the outcast, but single-mindedly making its pursuit an idol; the contemporary inverse of the Pharisee, sincere but misguided in their zealotry.
The more heretical element of the “Jesus was a refugee” doctrine is a Liberation hermeneutic that sees it necessary for purposes of “solidarity” for Jesus to have “experienced” life as a person of certain “marginalised identities”.
In this school of thought, the assertion that Jesus was a refugee is a generative theme; a hermeneutical tool for expanding the interpretation of the text: How to make a Postmodern heresy with actionable political ramifications out of otherwise true Biblical themes.
Outside of such a framework, an honest account of what Scripture does and does not say should be recognised as sufficient. Indeed, remaining true to Scripture would only strengthen true Christian advocacy for refugees.
But – cautiously – if the similarities between Jesus and the archetypal refugee are to be elevated for political ends that we recognise as corrupted, the Christian might be led to consider if the differences are of equal significance. These observations will surely come with political ramifications of their own.
For instance, Jesus’ escape to Egypt is understood to have been self-funded (through the gifts of the Magi), and thereby – unlike the modern refugee – demanded no subsidy by the host state.
Indeed, Jesus and his parents never even transited sovereign borders, which is central to the notion of refugee.
We hear of no obstacles or traumatic experiences in their travel between these regions of the Roman Empire, and presumably, the young family found security among fellow Jews in one of the diasporic communities in Egypt.
And when Herod died and no longer posed a threat, they went home.
In Matthew 2, there is no account of political turmoil, economic hardship, or even a war… It didn’t involve a mass migration of people… It didn’t require intervention by any State…
Their journey, and their time in Egypt, is not documented. As far as Matthew tells us, the Holy Family, under angelic protection, evaded imminent danger by escaping to Egypt, solely as a fulfilment of prophecy.
If the “Jesus was a refugee” narrative is insisted upon us, we have reason to dispute that framing. There are many ways in which Christ’s experience was very much unlike that of a typical refugee and, if anything, what makes Jesus’ situation unique is what Matthew describes as significant.
To be clear, none of this is to undermine what Scripture does teach in regard to compassion for those in need. We must still remember the countless teachings across the Old Testament and the New about active love and compassion. Consider the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats, for instance: “‘Whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’”
We who are politically engaged must examine ourselves, so that our interpretation of Scripture is not distorted by modern circumstances or made subservient to our predilections. We must always allow Scripture to correct our thinking, particularly in matters about which we feel the strongest.
What sets the Biblical Christian apart from the heretical political activist will be our willingness to affirm these ethics while not dispensing with the limiting principles. (Love is not love, for example. God is love. These conceptual frameworks – the secular and the Christian – are worlds apart.)
When this kind of Liberation dogma misrepresents Scripture, it not only forces the Biblical Christian to expose the lie, but can easily agitate reactionaries. Christians of both persuasions must allow the Word of God to call the shots.
Many among us will not wish to question the notion of Jesus as a refugee, but hopefully, I have shown how, at the least, it is polarising in its reductionism.
This analysis might do little to dissuade a devotee of the “Jesus was a refugee” ideal for whom this doctrine is a locus of their Christology. But be warned: Presenting Jesus as a perpetual refugee in defiance of the Scriptural framing (and the predictable overcorrection) will undermine Christian advocacy for people genuinely in need and the Biblical foundations of the Faith.
I believe all of this is a compelling reason to reject the politically charged “Jesus was a refugee” slogan in favour of a more impartial reading.
