A Pastoral Letter based on Deuteronomy 26:5–10
Dearly Beloved in Christ,
At the heart of sensible and sensitive Christian living lies a spirit of remembrance and humility. During the harvest thanksgiving, the Israelites were commanded to make a confession before God: “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor.” (Deuteronomy 26:5). This was no mere ritual of history—it was a confession of identity, a call to gratitude, and a reminder of responsibility. It kept God’s people from pride and indifference, teaching them to remember where they came from and to show compassion toward those who now walk the same path of struggle and displacement. As we reflect on these ancient words, the Church today is invited to rediscover her calling: to live gratefully, humbly, and mercifully among the disadvantaged and the displaced- to be a fragrant community.
Never Forget Your Roots
To live as an alien in a foreign land is never easy. Israel’s confession—“A wandering Aramean was my father”—reminds us that faith begins in pilgrimage, not in possession. God’s people are shaped by the experience of dependence and by the grace that sustains them through uncertainty. Living as strangers calls us to humility and hope, recognising that our home is always with God. When we remember that we too are travellers sustained by mercy, our hearts become open to those who wander today—the refugees, migrants, and asylum seekers who still seek belonging.
Never Forget What It Means to Be Few
Israel was few in number, yet God chose them as a vessel of promise. Their smallness was never a sign of weakness but of divine purpose. Likewise, when the Church feels small or unheard in an indifferent world, she must remember that God delights in working through the remnant—the few who remain faithful. Living as a minority is an invitation to courage rooted in conviction, gentleness that defies despair, and community that radiates grace. In our fewness, the Spirit multiplies faith, love, and justice beyond what numbers can measure.
Never Forget the Harsh Experiences of the Past
Deuteronomy calls God’s people to remember their affliction, toil, and oppression—not to dwell on suffering but to honour God’s redeeming hand. Memory, in faith, becomes an act of compassion. When we remember how God delivered us, we become mindful of those still bound by hardship. Remembering our own struggles keeps us from pride and nurtures empathy for others. The pain of the past becomes the seed of mercy, transforming our gratitude into action for those who remain in need of liberation and hope. It keeps us sensitive to those who live through harsh realities today.
Never Forget the God Who Hears and Delivers
The people cried out in their distress, and the Lord heard their voice. God saw their affliction and acted with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm. The same compassionate God listens today to the cries of the oppressed and the displaced. Every prayer of anguish is heard; every tear is seen. God’s intervention turns despair into deliverance and brings new beginnings where there once was bondage. The Church, as God’s servant in the world, is called to mirror this divine attentiveness—to hear the cries of the suffering, to see their pain, and to become the outstretched arm of God in acts of compassion and justice.
Never Forget to Be Thankful
When the Israelites entered the land of promise, they brought the first fruits of their labour to the Lord in thanksgiving. This offering was not a tax but a testimony—a declaration that every blessing comes from God and is meant to bless others. True gratitude transforms memory into generosity. For the Church, thanksgiving must always overflow into sharing: sharing bread with the hungry, space with the displaced, and love with the lonely. The first fruits of our lives—our time, resources, and compassion—belong to God and to the service of His people.
Our Responsibility Today
Today, the Church is called to live out the compassion of Christ by standing alongside all pushed to the margins including refugees, asylum seekers, and all who find themselves displaced and searching for home. The story of our faith has always been one of journey, exile, and divine welcome. To welcome the stranger is to rediscover who we are—a pilgrim people shaped by grace. Our calling demands more than sympathy; it calls us to hospitality, advocacy, and accompaniment.
To be the Body of Christ in our time is to open our doors and our hearts, to listen to stories of pain and hope, and to work for justice that restores dignity to every human being- and all life. When we embrace those on the move, we embody the Kingdom of God—a place where strangers become neighbours, where the wounded find healing, and where every person is gathered into the household of faith.
Lord, teach us to remember with gratitude, to serve with compassion, and to welcome every one who needs a compassionate touch as we would welcome You. Amen
Vinod Victor
November 1, 2025
Freiburg Anglican Church 