Immigration and the Death of Empathy

It seems like every day we read another story destined to divide. Gun control. Abortion. Bank Regulation. Net Neutrality. Right now, it’s immigration. Whether Fox News or CNN is your source for current events, you cannot escape the current vortex that is forming around the immigration crisis.

Yet for all the points and counterpoints, the shouting, yelling, name-calling, and promises to fix the broken system, the immigration crisis has actually highlighted a much greater predicament in American life in 2018 – the death of empathy. The Golden Rule in our age of social media, selfies, and constant self-promotion has morphed from “treat others like you want to be treated,” to simply “treat yourself.” And behind every major political fight lies a simple, obvious truth that nobody seems to realize – we have lost our ability to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes.

We see the need for this everywhere – seminars, classes, books, and trainings abound on people skills. I recently took a 2.5 day training for my job as a supervisor – while there was some good practical tips, the majority of the 20 hour training could be boiled down to this: “don’t be jerk, try to understand where you employees are coming from.” Not rocket science, but necessary.

We don’t really know how to be aware of others anymore. This week, as a nation we celebrated the rescue of a dozen young men from a cave in Thailand. We have compassion and empathy for people “over there.” But right down the street or in some cases, a half a mile across the border, our empathy sours into distrust and fear of outsiders or fellow citizens.

Conservatives and the Death of Empathy

While I grew up in a conservative environment, and am in many ways more conservative than progressive, nothing has been more stomach-churning in the news to me lately than the Republican response to immigration. It seems like every week a new video of an American, typically of European ancestry, berating a person of minority status emerges. In some cases, the victims are in fact immigrants, legal or illegal, and in others they are actually U.S. citizens. Regardless of their citizenship, the aggressors in these stories belittle and demean people, often solely based upon assumptions about their immigration status.

But when did being a Republican, or just conservative politically, suddenly mean we are afraid of others? When did it mean that I could care so profoundly about 12 boys trapped in a cave across the globe, but not give a rip about the mother trying to escape gang violence, drugs, or an unhealthy nation that has seen two high level government officials assassinated in the last week? How is she different than those boys?

Moreover, what fuels some people into being publicly dismissive and angry at non-white immigrants, legal or otherwise? Is it some kind of historical amnesia? Have we forgotten that were it not for the risk, trial, and bravery of our European ancestors who came here so many years ago that we too could find ourselves so desperately on the outside?

At its core, much of current conservative immigration policy seems to boil down to: “We got here first. Finders, Keepers.”

Liberals and the Death of Empathy

While conservatives seem to have lost their empathy for others, the liberal, generally Democratic, perspective has lost empathy for its own self. Compassionate and understanding of the weak, the downtrodden, the oppressed, both near and far, the liberal view has forgotten how to care for its own citizens.

Is it truly empathetic to construct a system that welcomes all but can’t pay for anyone? Is it empathetic to offer a wink and chuckle to illegal immigrants while others seek citizenship through years of waiting, testing, and wondering if they will be allowed to remain in the nation they have learned to call home? Is it empathetic to be so concerned about “the others” outside banging on the gates that we forget to tend to the very real concerns of our own people? How are they going to pay their bills, fund welfare programs, and remain safe in an increasingly violent and chaotic nation and world?

In a nutshell, the Democratic position can be summarized as: “We had it first. We’re sorry, please take it,” with little regard to those being asked to give more and more and more. We rob Peter to pay Paul, and don’t even have the decency to say thank you.

No Way Forward

At the center of most political fights you will find this lack of empathy. Gun Control? Conservatives shout and clamor for actual victims of gun violence to pipe down even though they just saw their friends murdered in 2^nd period algebra. Abortion? Liberals champion that a woman’s right is all that matters, even though life, or potential life, is extremely precious in an age of death, suicide, and despair. Welfare? Many Republicans believe that anyone under the age of 65 on welfare is lazy and faking a disability, despite the fact that some people have crippling mental and physical challenges and no other system to support or advocate for them.

Our country, our relationships with “the others,” whether Democrats or Republicans, will continue to be plagued. There is no breaking this logjam without first resolving our obsession with self-preservation to the exclusion of caring for others. As C.S. Lewis once wrote:

“Progress means getting nearer to the place you want to be. And if you have taken a wrong turn, then to go forward does not get you any nearer. If you are on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road…a sum can be put right: but only by going back till you find the error and working it afresh from that point, never by simply going on.”

So it is in our current age. There is no going forward. The path ahead is marked only by further arguments and discord. The only true progress to be made lies in turning back, learning once again how to hear, understand, and feel the victories and sorrows of others, and move forward together from there.

I have no suggestions for solving our current immigration crisis. That is for greater, more technical minds to solve and parse out. But the only true way forward lies with a resurrection of our empathy. Until then, we will remain embattled. After all, some 2,000 years ago, the apostle Paul wrote, “Three things will last forever – faith, hope, and love – and the greatest of these is love,” (1 Cor. 13:13, NLT). While love is many things beyond just empathy, it is not less. Without empathy for our fellow citizens and for those seeking to become our neighbors, there is no way forward.

Nevertheless, We Rejoice.

“The disciples returned with joy, saying, ‘Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name!’ And He said, ‘ I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. Behold, I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall hurt you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” (Luke 10:17-20)

When was the last time you felt powerful? Like you had achieved something great in your life? Was it an athletic endeavor? A huge sale at work? An impassioned speech to rally friends and family to action? Being powerful feels good. It provides a lot of benefits – feelings of achievement and accomplishment, sense of control, sense of purpose. And it’s not inherently bad – Scripture is full of commands to be self-controlled; it is after all, a mark of a mature, Spirit-filled life (Eph. 5:22-24).

So what are we to make of this odd exchange between Jesus and His followers – demons and spiritual ghouls, Satan falling from heaven, and behind it all, joy in power over our eternal enemy. How does this somewhat peculiar passage have anything to say to us today?

Having commissioned His followers to spread the news of God’s coming Kingdom, Jesus greeted His disciples, about 72 of them in all, as they returned and began sharing their stories. They marveled with happiness that even the most confounding of human problems – illness, disability, and yes, even spiritual darkness and bondage to Satan himself – melted before their message. In a moment of innocence, they rejoiced in the good their work produced. Yet here, in that very moment, lurked a dark temptation. We see it in our own world today. Whether you are part of a large Christian church or attend a small gathering weekly of a dozen or so believers, you can find this temptation. The desire to see our work for God as supreme. The urge to do larger, grander, more extravagant things, not just because we want to serve God and people, but also because we want to feel accomplished, important, powerful.

As American believers we are enamored with this idea – it’s all about work and production. The larger the church, the more obvious it is the Spirit is moving there. The bigger the service project, mission trip, giving campaign, or ministry, the more obvious that God is at work. And if the event only reaches a few people, if attendance is low, or interest is lagging, we feel embarrassed, uncomfortable, like we have no power and therefore, no joy. I will be the first to admit this in my own life. In the places I have served before, the bigger the splash, the larger the crowd, the cooler the event, the greater the joy. Like the disciples, I marveled at all the neat stuff I was helping get done. I felt proud, not entirely in a bad way, of what my own obedience had produced. And when things didn’t go well – when small group attendance was low or no one seemed interested in helping with this cause or that one, my joy evaporated.

Over time this repetitive cycle of success and failure, of highs and lows, joy and discouragement based on personal performance, leads to low-level despair. What am I doing wrong?

This story provides the answer. We read, “the disciples returned with joy, saying ‘even the demons are subject to us…” Jesus, ever the compassionate yet honest teacher, responded with two answers that are powerful still today.

First, believers can and will do great things in God’s name and for His cause. Even the great enemy of our souls, will at times be defeated by great faith and deeds of Christians. We can and will do great things for God’s kingdom if we obey and work hard together.

Second, and more importantly, great deeds for God should not replace joy in God. If we are slave to work and productivity – the next big event, service project, mission trip – then when those things fail we falter. When only a few people show up to our new Bible study, when serving someone leads to a cold shoulder, when Sunday attendance isn’t growing, our joy often falters. To that, our Savior and King, reminds us kindly, “Nevertheless, rejoice…your names are written in heaven.” Is it good and right to celebrate obedience? Absolutely. Should our achievements be our deepest joy and delight? Never.

Jesus’ response is the secret to Christian resilience. When our ministry fails, our church closes, or our genuine love is repulsed, we rejoice. Why? Because at the end of the day, it’s not about what we do or accomplish. It’s not about our power. It’s not about our control. On the best days when ministry is thriving and people growing, we rejoice above all, because God has saved and will remember us. When we meet personal tragedies like death, illness, and broken relationships, we still rejoice, for even then, God has saved us and remembers us.

In short, Jesus responds to the disciples (and our) obsession with our own work simply – do not rejoice in what you have done, rejoice in what I have done for you. That is the iron backbone of Christian faith. When your finances collapse – rejoice. When your friends betray you – rejoice. When your ministry falters despite all Herculean effort, work, and generosity – rejoice. Remember that your deepest needs have been met by the loving sacrifice of Another.

Our power is fleeting. Our success will vanish. Nevertheless, we rejoice.