Walking the Narrow Path

As bombs have rained down on Iran, I have found myself on a roller coaster of emotion.

Over the years I have journeyed closely with Iranians who sought protection in Australia. They fled the brutal repression of the regime, often knowing they may never see their families again. Yet they also speak proudly as Persians—loving who they believe their country truly is, not what it has become since the 1979 revolution.

Some of them have celebrated the death of Iran’s supreme leader.

I understand why.

But something about the moment also feels deeply unsettling. Many of the same political voices now cheering on the bombing of Iran have a long history of calling for the indefinite detention of Iranian people who had fled the very same regime and sought safety in Australia. Likewise, this last week the Australian government moved to block around 7,000 Iranians with valid tourist visas from entering the country for six months, effectively shutting the door on people seeking safety as war escalates.

These contradictions tell me they are more interested in bombing an enemy than caring for its people.

Lessons from Iraq

These last few weeks, I have been thinking my Iraqi friend Aram*, an Iraqi Christian who fled to Australia by boat. Iraq—his beloved homeland—was invaded in 2003 on claims that later proved false. The war destabilised the social order of the country and unleashed years of sectarian violence.

Aram once told me that before the invasion, Christians lived alongside Sunni and Shia Muslims. The regime ruled with an iron fist, but he believed it maintained a fragile social order. Before the war there were around 1.5 million Christians in Iraq. Today there are likely fewer than 250,000 left, after waves of violence, displacement and emigration.

One of the oldest Christian communities in the world has been nearly erased within a generation.

The war on Iran, despite its supposedly righteous objectives, eerily mirrors the beginning of the war on Iraq. The question is whether we are once again walking into a conflict whose consequences will echo for decades.

Closing the Book of Vengeance

In Luke 4:18-19, Jesus declares his ministry by quoting the prophet Isaiah:

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,

    because he has anointed me

    to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners

    and recovery of sight for the blind,

to set the oppressed free,

     to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

For those in the synagogue at the time, there was a not-so-subtle subtext to this proclamation. Jesus stops himself mid-sentence. The full text in Isaiah 61 says, “to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God.” Jesus makes this explicit soon after, by referencing moments in Israel’s history when God showed love and mercy to its enemies. It is at this moment that Jesus is driven out, as the crowd attempt to throw him from a cliff. Brian Zahnd calls this the moment Jesus ‘closes the book on vengeance’.

Despite this, Christians across two millennia have continued to sneak vengeance back into the narrative. We see this prominently with the recent rhetoric around a supposed righteous, God-ordained war on Iran and Lebanon. This, my friends, is squarely not The Way of Jesus. 

The Narrow Path

Jesus Way is a narrow path. One that refuses to be overcome by evil, and instead overcome evil with good (Romans 12:21). A path that loves its enemies, while still resisting injustice. A path that stands in solidarity with those living under Iranian repression—defending their right to seek safety in our country—while refusing to believe we can bomb their way to freedom. A path that listens to voices like Aram, knowing that even when the news cycles move past Iran, its civilians will continue to pay the highest price, potentially for decades to come. 

Jesus invites us to walk the narrow path - grounded in love, alongside our neighbours. The question is, how will we join in walking this path together?

*Name changed for privacy.

This is the second blog in a three-part blog series shared with the Common Grace movement around Palm Sunday 2026, in response to the increasing conflict in the Middle East and growing displacement crisis across the globe. Read Gershon Nimbalker's first blog in this series, 'Peace not Empire. Jesus not Genghis'. Read James Harris' third blog in this series 'The Donkey and The Warhorse'. 

Next Steps

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Do you have a story of being welcomed, or welcoming refugees into your community? Share your story with us. In 2026, Refugee Week (17 - 23 June) will be celebrated with the theme of ‘A Million Stories’ to mark the one million permanent humanitarian visas Australia has issued since international calls in 1947 to help resettle people after the horrors of WW2. This remarkable legacy of welcome is one we should be deeply proud of, and one that has woven a rich tapestry of friendship and shared experience into the heart of our communities and culture. Find out more and share your story here. 

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