Spirituality in the face of adversity

Migration and refugee movements in the Mediterranean countries have gained unprecedented momentum in recent months. The situation along migratory routes to Europe and within Europe itself is changing faster than ever before. Opinions of all kinds flourish, often without the necessary base of accurate, up-to-date information.

Since the outbreak of civil war in March 2011, an estimated nine million Syrians have fled their homes taking refuge in neighbouring countries or within Syria itself. According to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), over three million have fled to Syria’s immediate neighbours Turkey, Lebanon, Jordan and Iraq. Six and a half million are internally displaced within Syria. Meanwhile, 150,000 Syrians have declared asylum in the European Union, while member states have pledged to resettle a further 33,000 Syrians.

These statistics are staggering, almost unthinkable. How is it that such vast numbers of people have been displaced not only from their homes but from their country? More than half of those caught up in the conflict are children. Many have lost family members, their homes and witnessed or experienced violence. They are also deprived of many basic necessities that children need to grow and to flourish, such as an education, interaction with other children and safe, solid homes. One can only wonder as to the effect this may be having on their spiritual lives.

The crisis has now spread beyond the Mediterannean, and beyond Europe, with Syrian refugees now fleeing to countries as far away as the United States of America and Australia. On 9 September this year, The Sydney Morning Herald reported the Australian Government’s commitment to permanently resettle 12,000 refugees from Syria – one of the world’s largest to date. Many of these refugees initially arrived in Perth, the capital city of Western Australia. From there, large numbers have, with the help of relatives and the community, gradually made their way east to the other Australian cities of Adelaide, Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane.

A family of such refugees recently came along to an information evening at the secondary college at which I now teach, looking for a safe place in which to educate their two teenage daughters. While the family members spoke very little English, they were put at ease by our pastoral staff. They were made to feel welcome – helped by the fact that two of our staff speak fluent Arabic. They were informed that their daughters could begin school immediately and that the college would happily provide their uniforms and costs for tuition.

Through conversation with the family it would seem that these two young teenage girls have witnessed and experienced some of the many horrific atrocities that befall the plight of many refugees – acts of violence, rape, murder, and the like. And yet, in spite of all of this, these two young girls at least seem to smile and interact positively with those around them.

This led me to ponder the effects that all of this has had upon their spiritual lives. If they are displaced physically, are displaced spiritually? Does spirituality contribute to a sense of resilience? If nothing else, these two teenage Syrian refugees seem to be resilient. The research of Rhodius (2013) suggests that children who have been involved in armed conflict draw inspiration, a sense of security, and strength from their immediate protectors, their friends, families and community, and that these can nurture spirituality. Certainly the family of these two girls have been instrumental in nurturing their sense of well-being. The family may be one of the few stabilising factors in these girls’ experience.

But Rhodius’(2013) research also signals the important role that communities play in nurturing the spirituality of those who have experienced armed conflict. Such communities include not only the cultural communities from which refugees and displaced persons come, but also the communities of which they become a part on the journey to asylum. This has enormous implications and challenges for the college community of which I am a part, and which has reached out to these two teenagers and their family. In what ways, pragmatically, does this community actually provide safety for this family? In what ways does it enable these young women and their families to draw inspiration, and so nurture spirituality?

As I write, news of the horrific terrorist arracks in Paris has just come to light, with the revelation that at least one of the alleged perpetrators appears to have crossed the border into France posing as a Syrian refugee. My personal fear now concerns the ways in which our communities will react to such news. Some in our communities may now advocate for the turning away of all refugees and those who seek asylum (fear has a nasty way of infiltrating the rational and emotional responses of people to the unknown and unfamiliar). Such responses are destructive to a community’s spirituality. In the face of adversity then, communities are called upon to think and to act in a social constructivist (Gergen 1985) manner, that is, to question the structures that perpetuate such thinking on the part of many, and to consider the type of action that constitutes an appropriate response to the crises of refugees and recent terrorist attacks in Paris.

Knowledge and social action go together. Communities who are informed are challenged to act in ways that not only provide safety for refugees, but also to act as potential sources of inspiration, security and strength. In this way, our communities effectively have opportunities to nurture the spirituality of all people in a life-giving manner.

Brendan Hyde
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Cathy Ota
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Karen-Marie Yust
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