Iran: it's been on everyone’s mind from the new year. I think the news sunk in slowly, but hit me hard when it did. Here I was in Athens, Greece, having rung in the new year with friends from Iran, now, mere days later, wondering if the US was on the brink of war with the Islamic Republic. With newspapers and social media ominously declaring World War III on the horizon, I wondered what would happen between me and my Iranian friends. How would things change? Should I be concerned?
Turns out, the situation was a good way of understanding my own, fearful heart. And a way of convicting me of that fear.
Well, America’s not at war with Iran. Neither does it look like it will be—at least for now. But I think I can safely say everyone was nervous. It concerned me particularly when the American Embassy issued alerts not to draw attention to your Americanness while in Athens. Then, I heard about beefed up security at the American and Israeli embassies, American businesses and other places in the city. After getting texts from friends back home checking on me, I admit, I became scared. Two days later, I even went to my team leader and asked if there was a chance we would be forced to evacuate if war came. Because, I’m apparently a Nervous Nancy.
Looking back on it, I now realize reading all of the news articles and alerts made me paranoid. Sitting this side of Iran’s counter-attack and a call to deescalate the situation, I see now how easily I fell into fear. In my mind runs the question someone once asked me when I initially told them I was going to Greece to work with refugees. “Why are you going to work with refugees? They’re our enemies.”
When I first heard this sentiment, I was appalled. Refugees aren’t enemies at all—they’re ordinary people fleeing war and persecution for the hope of freedom and safety. And, even if some were, Jesus calls all of us to love our enemies. However, what would happen if war did come? Would there be a line drawn in the sand? Would I be called a traitor for loving my friends anyway? Would our friendships crumble over national allegiances? Would there be division in the body of Christ here?
These are hard questions worth asking, but God’s grace is bigger than fear. My friends are still my friends. There’s been no division, no violence. If anything else, the situation has given me more understanding of what my refugee friends have gone through as I ask them their opinions. I treasure and value them.
Now, a new week’s news cycle has begun with a different narrative. And I sit here thankful—thankful for my Iranian friends, thankful for the way they’ve poured into my life and the ways in which they’ve challenged and encouraged me. I hope for each of them, safety, security and the freedom of a new life. But more than that, I hope the love of Jesus that overflows from their hearts would be seen by the world for what it is—a miracle. Not just a miracle because they are Iranian, but because of the miracle of Jesus is for everyone.
I confess this all to you because we live in a time of fear. I let that fear come into my heart and I ask forgiveness that it did. Let’s not let the fear that weighs down this age break us apart.
May God bring peace to Iran. More than that, though: may the people of Iran come to know Jesus. Please join my friends and me in praying that they do and that the love that surpasses all understanding (and fear) would be known freely.