Jesus was a Refugee, too.
When we hear the story of Jesus’ birth, it is often told with warmth and reverence: a humble manger in Bethlehem, shepherds arriving to offer awe-struck praise, angels singing of peace and hope. But beneath this serene image lies a story of displacement and danger. Mary and Joseph fled with the infant Jesus to Egypt to escape the murderous intentions of King Herod (Matthew 2:13–15). In that moment, the Holy Family became refugees—people forced from their home, living with uncertainty, seeking safety in a foreign land.
This truth is not just historical; it carries profound implications for how we understand faith, justice, and our own response to the displaced and vulnerable in our world today. To see Jesus as a refugee is to confront the reality that God’s own Son experienced the fear, instability, and alienation that millions endure every day.
Doctrine & Covenants 163:4a reminds us:
“God, the Eternal Creator, weeps for the poor, displaced, mistreated, and diseased of the world because of their unnecessary suffering. Such conditions are not God's will. Open your ears to hear the pleading of mothers and fathers in all nations who desperately seek a future of hope for their children. Do not turn away from them. For in their welfare resides your welfare.”
This passage situates the plight of refugees and displaced persons not merely as a social or political concern, but as a spiritual imperative. The suffering of the vulnerable is not peripheral to God’s care—it is central. When we respond to refugees, we respond to Christ himself, who knows the pain of being forced from home, of seeking safety for one’s family under threat.
The Bible repeatedly affirms God’s concern for the stranger, the oppressed, and the outcast:
The Bible repeatedly affirms God’s concern for the stranger, the oppressed, and the outcast:
Exodus 22:21 – “You shall not wrong a stranger or oppress him, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”
Leviticus 19:34 – “The stranger who resides with you shall be to you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.”
Matthew 25:35–40 – Jesus teaches that welcoming the stranger is akin to welcoming him: “I was a stranger and you welcomed me… Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”
By recognizing Jesus as a refugee, we are invited to understand these passages in a profoundly embodied way. The stranger, the displaced, and the persecuted are not abstract concerns—they are Christ among us, calling us to love and action.
From a progressive Community of Christ perspective, faith is inseparable from justice, compassion, and inclusion. When we hear of Mary and Joseph fleeing to Egypt, we are reminded that God’s mission in the world is not to affirm the power of oppressors but to uplift those in need. This aligns with the broader prophetic vision of the church:
To create communities where all are welcomed and nurtured.
To dismantle systems of oppression that create forced migration.
To act in solidarity with those who seek refuge, recognizing that our welfare is bound to theirs.
In practical terms, this might look like advocating for humane immigration policies, offering sanctuary to those fleeing violence, or simply listening and amplifying the voices of displaced people. It is about embodying Christ’s love in a tangible, justice-oriented way.
Understanding Jesus as a refugee challenges us to expand our empathy and rethink our responsibilities. It invites us to see beyond borders, nationalities, or political divides. As disciples of Christ, we are called to remember that the God who “weeps for the poor, displaced, mistreated, and diseased of the world” walks with every person who faces uncertainty and danger. Our response is not optional; it is an expression of faith itself.
When we welcome refugees, advocate for their rights, and stand against injustice, we participate in God’s redemptive work in the world. Just as Mary and Joseph sought safety for their child, we are called to create spaces of hope, dignity, and love for all children of God.
Reflection:
In what ways can our local communities embody the care that God extends to all refugees? How can we make visible the invisible, and hear the voices of those too often ignored?
Jesus was a refugee, too—and in remembering that truth, we find a radical call to action: to see Christ in every stranger, and to live our faith through justice, compassion, and unwavering solidarity.
