Spending time with refugees often reminds me that those who live on the margins wrestle with questions in ways I am not familiar. Take the COVID-19 pandemic as an example. As a pastor, my usual routine and practice of ministry have been disrupted. Now, rather than in-person worship, fellowship, or leadership meetings, I spend much of my time and energy organizing virtual worship, Zoom calls, and WhatsApp conversations. These types of adjustments are unwelcome and inconvenient, but they do not significantly disrupt my quality of life.
This is rarely true for refugees or those living on the margins of sustainability. One of the positive outcomes of COVID-19 has been the response of the National Evangelical Church English Language Congregation (ELC) in Bahrain expressing solidarity with marginalized people in and outside our community of faith.
While Bahrain is a relatively small country, Bahrain is populated by 50 percent expatriates. Some of these come to Bahrain because of needed technical skills or knowledge in medicine, education, industry, or business. But many more come to Bahrain in hopes of securing any type of employment. Most of these individuals end up working as day laborers in construction, domestic service, or to serve some of the less savory appetites of those who travel to Bahrain for leisure and recreation.
A large percentage of this service sector comes from extremely impoverished countries and their obvious need makes them easy prey for unscrupulous employers. The legal and judicial systems do not offer the same protections for expats, and this reality leaves many refugees vulnerable to personal or financial harm with little or no possibility for recourse. Case in point:
We had been encouraged to reach out to Latha (not her real name), a member of the ELC who had fallen on extremely hard times. Latha and her two children (ages eight and 16) had been abandoned two years ago when her Pakistani husband decided to leave them to marry another woman. Because he will not divorce her, Latha has no legal recourse. Her ‘husband’ gives no child support and has not contacted Latha or the children in two years. To make matters worse, her husband owed back rent for three months and the landlord summarily evicted them two days later. With nothing more than the clothes they could carry, Latha and her children were forced onto the street.
Working as a teacher’s aid, at least Latha had some income to provide basic food and simple shelter for her children. That was until COVID-19 forced her school to close. Here I am reminded of how COVID-19 causes some of us–refugees and the marginalized especially–to deal with far more significant complications.
With no income and no sense of where to go, Latha reached out to the ELC for assistance. At this point, Latha was living in a single 10 x 15 room with no furniture. She and her two children had only a few things to wear and slept huddled together each night lying on a hard tile floor.
However, within a few days, the ELC was able to provide a single bed, two foam mattresses, a cook plate, a few chairs, a small table, and a chest of drawers for their few personal items. Since that day, the ELC has also given weekly food vouchers so Latha can provide sustenance for herself and her children.
Latha asked if we might come and pray with them as she so wanted her children to have an opportunity to meet us. As we entered her one-room apartment, the tremendous need was evident. Because her children are not Bahraini, they are not entitled to attend public schools. With no money for private school tuition, the children have spent that last two years in a literal holding pattern. However, it was quickly evident that Latha would not allow her children to wallow in despair or misery. Her children were so respectful and so filled with hope. They presented us with homemade Christmas cards and shared with us the lessons they had been learning while studying God’s Word.
After spending time encouraging Latha and her children, it was time for us to take our leave. But before we departed, we huddled together and joined hands. Even as I prepared to offer a prayer of thanksgiving and intercession to God, Latha made sure to tell me to praise God for protecting them and to thank God for the ELC–especially the youth sponsors–who had been such a blessing to her children. She went on about so many things she had for which she was grateful. By the time she had exhausted her list of praises and thanks, I honestly felt ill-equipped to pray as I was simply overcome with emotion and respect for this good and godly woman. Despite her pain and need, Latha had found God to be faithful. She had found God to be her strong tower, her healer, her provider.
Latha is but one of many examples of how God is using the ELC to share God’s love in a part of the world where the name of Christ is seldom lifted high. The ELC is made up of dear saints like Latha and dozens of others who live daily on the margins of sustainability. These voices, together with so many others, are learning better how to serve, listen to, and learn from one another. Though we are far from perfect, it is indeed a beautiful thing to behold a fellowship of nearly 1,000 ministry partners from 50 different countries and as many different languages all worshiping and serving Christ together.