For the first time in my life, in recent months I started feeling unsettled hearing some of the conversations around remigration. As I listened, I couldn’t help but think of what my family experienced in Uganda during the time of Idi Amin.
My grandparents, my mum and her siblings were all born and raised in Uganda. They worked hard, made friends and contributed to the communities they loved. Yet there was a growing fear that Asians were not integrating, that they were taking over the economy, and then the inevitable happened when they were given 90 days to leave everything.
As I’ve listened to some of the rhetoric in our media and public conversations recently, I’ve found myself wondering whether some of it sounds uncomfortably familiar. I have been asking myself: “Are we not just seeing waves of history repeating itself? Have we not learned anything from the past? Have we not grown in more love and compassion as human beings?”
Those thoughts naturally left me asking a deeper question: where is home? If I had to leave, where would I go? I have no family in Uganda anymore, and apart from a second cousin of my mum’s in India whom I barely know, I have no real ties there either. Then I thought about my church family – the beautiful, diverse group of people I’ve been blessed with. Part of me wondered why I was even asking these questions. Surely this won’t happen to me or the people I love. Yet the questions revealed something deeper that many of us wrestle with: where do I truly belong?
It’s not just the United Kingdom. Around the world we are seeing nations wrestling with identity and belonging. India is increasingly seeking to be a Hindu nation – with one religion and one primary language. In other places, like South Africa, people are demanding their country back or calling others to return to their ancestral homeland. Across the world there is a longing for home, security and identity, as well as a cry for help because people feel forgotten. However, the Bible reminds us that our home is with Jesus, not any of the nations we reside in, and that our citizenship is in heaven.
Recently I went to Lord’s to watch the England versus India women’s Test match cricket (pictured). A friend asked me: “Who are you supporting?” I laughed and said: “I’m just here to cheer on the women,” but inwardly I felt a small conflict – who should I support?
A young South Asian family were sat beside me and the mum asked her daughter, “Who are you supporting?” Without hesitation she replied: “England, of course!” For her, being British was simply who she knew herself to be. Nearby, a group of Indian men joyfully cheered for India. I could feel the slight awkwardness that some of the South Asians felt being British and Asian – you relate, yet you don’t fully fit into either box.
When I got home, I was praying and reflecting on the day. As I thought about the words “England versus India at Lord’s”, it struck me that perhaps God had been testing my heart. Where had I placed my identity? He gently reminded me that my identity is not rooted in my nationality, ethnicity or culture, but in Him.
I wonder if this is where many of us, even as Christians, can lose our anchoring. There is nothing wrong with loving our country, celebrating our heritage or giving thanks for the culture God has placed us in. These are good gifts. But if my hope rests in a flag, a politician, the colour of my skin or my national identity rather than in Jesus, then I have lost my anchor.
Before I am anything, I belong to Christ. My home is in Him and, whether India or England, neither of them can save me; only Jesus can do that. So whilst I can celebrate being British, Indian, South Asian, a woman – all things God created and intended for me – they are not my identity. I can celebrate the good gifts God has given me, but they are not where I find my worth or my hope. I am first and foremost a beloved child of God, fully known and deeply loved by Him. And as His follower, my calling is not to build my life around national identity, but to reflect His love and extend it to those who do not yet know Him. What if God has sent us the nations, so that we can send the gospel to the nations?
