Nobody, but nobody, can make it out here alone. . .

From Ruth 1:6-18

At this very moment, the global refugee crisis is calling upon all people of faith to respond.  Since war broke out in Syria five years ago, the severity of the global crisis has increased dramatically, and there are now more people displaced than at any time since World War II.  This moment is frequently referred to as one of the greatest humanitarian crises in memory.  Our displaced sisters and brothers are running from wars, famine, floods, droughts, earthquakes, political unrest and persecution, and many other causes that make it impossible for them to return home. The situation is too dire and too immediate to ignore. . . .  Because nobody, but nobody, can make it out here alone. . . .
   
Currently, Week of Compassion—the humanitarian outreach branch of our church—is working with our partners—including the Greek Orthodox Church and the Middle East Council of Churches—to respond to the humanitarian needs of Syrian and Iraqi refugees in Jordan.  Due to the Syrian war and the increased instability in northern Iraq—with no end in sight—Syrians and Iraqis have fled to Jordan and elsewhere to find some semblance of peace.  More than 12 million Syrians—more than half of the country's population—have been displaced.  The needs for food, medicine, clothing, heating, and shelter are urgent.  The hope for some semblance of stability is equally great.  Nobody, but nobody, can make it out here alone. . . .
   
Over the course of 2015, nearly 240,000 Burundian men, women and children have been forced to flee their homes because of political conflict and election-related violence.   The situation inside Burundi continues to deteriorate, marked by targeted killings of opposition leaders.   In addition to persecution because of political and social group affiliation, Burundians increasingly face food insecurity and environmental degradation as a consequence of civil unrest.

Every day more than 200 new Burundian refugees arrive by bus to the Nyarugusu Camp in Tanzania, home to more than 85,000 Burundian refugees.  Some of the refugees describe fleeing forced conscription into youth militias. Others explain how they were targeted, specifically because of their affiliation with a political party.

Through our partners, Week of Compassion has helped build the camp from the ground up and has worked to expand and improve infrastructure by building new latrines and shelters, providing water and sanitation facilities, and ensuring that the dignity of the refugees is restored and respected.  Week of Compassion also supports psycho-social response activities, including community dialogues aimed at peaceful coexistence among newly arriving Burundians, longer-staying Congolese refugees, and the Tanzanian host communities.  Because, you know, nobody, but nobody, can make it out here alone. . . .

Similarly, in the book of Ruth, we hear the story of resilient refugees—facing the harsh natural disaster of famine and the brutal human-made disaster of patriarchy that rendered single women completely vulnerable.  Like refugees today, Ruth and Naomi did not have the privilege of choosing to stay in their homes.  Forces beyond their control dictated their involuntary relocation. Yet, they were able to survive such tumultuous transitions because they were each willing to give their greatest gift to the other:  their very selves.  You see, nobody, but nobody, can make it out here alone. . . .

José Morales Torres argues that the book of Ruth can be read as a human story incarnating a God story.  As a human story, we witness an incredible act of solidarity, richly expressed in Ruth’s commitment:  “Where you go, I will go. . . .”  As a God story, it is about redemption—which is expressed in that human act of solidarity.  This story expresses the message that redemption actually means that God stands in solidarity with us. Remember, nobody, but nobody, can make it out here alone. . . .

Traditionally, many argue that Boaz, the “kinsman redeemer,” is the hero of Ruth’s story; he “redeems” Ruth and secures a life for her.  However, the divine act of redemption is most strongly embodied in the commitment Ruth and Naomi make to each other to stay together and to help one another.  In other words, salvation is an ongoing process that happens in community—in loving and helping one another—not in a single, solitary event.  We need one another.  And we need one another for the long-term.  God is made known to us as we accompany and help the most vulnerable members in our society.  God is revealed to us in our accompanying the refugee, our advocating for the homeless, our insisting that Black Lives Matter, our translating for the immigrant, our listening to the pain of the heartbroken.  I think we need to say it again:  Nobody, but nobody, can make it out here alone. . . .

And as a result, we need the refugee as much (or more) as the refugee needs us.  It is through our relationship that God is made known.  It is through our solidarity with others in need that we encounter God.  In our story from Ruth, the portrait of God is painted by two women who choose solidarity. 

And this is very much still the case for us today.  God chooses solidarity.  And in a world that sinfully seeks to divide people into “them” and “us,” this means that there is no one but us!  There is only us.  “Your people shall be my people.”
   
Currently, there are 60 million individuals living as refugees or displaced persons throughout the world. And these numbers will only rise as violence and persecution continue to surge in areas of the Middle East, Northern Africa, and Latin America. 
   
As people of faith, we are called into the spiritual practice of solidarity.  To see the needs of others.  And to respond.  In whatever ways we can.  Because there is no “them.”  There is no one outside the realm of God’s love and care.  There is no dispensable human being.  And the best—and the least—we can do is to say to our brother and our sister, who is hurting, displaced, seeking asylum, exhausted, fearful, wounded, hopeless . . . that where they go, we will go—that we will be there and walk in solidarity beside them throughout their journey.  Because, you see, nobody, but nobody, can make it out here alone. . . . 
   
In our class, “First Light:  Jesus and the Kingdom of God,” we’ve been talking about Jesus’ promotion of a “collaborative eschaton.”  Now, don’t let that alarm you.  Eschaton just means how someone understands the end times—what the ultimate, divine vision for God’s realm is like.  And you know what it means to collaborate with someone—to put your heads together—to share the work.  So when Jesus talks about a collaborative eschaton, he’s expressing his vision of God’s ideal world—that he says is at hand now.  Right now.  Not later.  And it has to do with sharing, healing, eating together, building one another up, solidarity.  But to see it and live into it, we need one another.  And we need God.  Alone—by ourselves—insulated and isolated—we can’t see it.  We can’t claim it.  It has to be collaborative.  We have to do it together.  We need, must have, one another.  That was the message of Jesus.  That was also the message of Ruth.  And that is the message of Week of Compassion.  Nobody, but nobody, can make it out here alone. . . .
   
Amen.