FROM THE PULPIT: Is xenophobia spelled s-i-n?

Words beginning with the letter "x" are rare. One such word describes a condition I wish were equally rare.

Xenophobia, a word taking a curtain call these days, describes fear of strangers or foreigners, originating from the Greek words for xenos (foreigner) and phobos (fear).

This ancient and modern revulsion is now on display in a recent act of Georgia's Gov. Nathan Deal.

A couple of weeks ago, Deal, joining other similarly trembling governors, barred Syrian refugees (governors don't even have the legal authority to do this) from entering their states, even though not one Paris attacker was Syrian.

To date, half of all Syrian refugees resettled in the US have been children; another 25 percent are over 60. These asylum seekers endure an excruciating lengthy, thorough two-year vetting process supported by nine major religious and nonprofit agencies that help select candidates.

Indiana, which earlier this year brought calumny upon itself for other forms of inhospitality is, like Georgia, now officially xenophobic. Hoosier Gov. Mike Pence rejected their first Syrians: the family who had been waiting three years for entry consisted of man who operated a used clothing store, his wife and their 4-year-old child. Presumably, Hoosiers breathed a sigh of relief. These are the refugees Deal doesn't want in Georgia.

That same week Deal protected Georgians, my wife and I took an ear-popping 47-second elevator ride to the breathtaking 101st floor observation deck of the One World Trade Center in New York City.

Slack-jawed we surveyed lower Manhattan skyscrapers scattered below like toothpicks. In the New York harbor we gazed on Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty proudly inviting Emma Lazarus' huddled masses to our shores. Studying the statue from the heavens I could almost see tears flowing from her face.

This is not the first time we former immigrants have rejected latter-day applicants. One of the most aptly named political parties in the history of the United States, the Know-Nothings, opposed immigration in the 1840s, fearful of Germans and Irish Catholics. The virulently anti-immigrant 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act barred Asians.

In 1939 we denied from our safe shores the entire passenger list of the Saint Louis, an ocean liner crowded with German Jewish men, women and children asylum seekers fleeing fascism. They were summarily sent back to Germany where almost half of the 1,000 passengers died at the hands of the Nazis.

The American religious community has spoken with practically one voice in opposition to this recent xenophobic display. It is rare to see such unanimity among the faithful, but this coalition of Jews, Muslims and Christians, liberals and conservatives, has strongly protested the knee-jerk and short-sighted Keep Out sign aimed at the vulnerable.

Catholics, Presbyterians, Lutherans, Episcopalians, Church World Service, CARE, Save the Children, World Vision, the National Association of Evangelicals, Oxfam and dozens of other groups are unified in their support of receiving Syrian refugees.

The heart of Jewish, Christian and Muslim religion is about offering hospitality to the stranger, even though each major religion has ignored its own teaching. How sad that in the so-called Bible Belt we permit such inhospitality.

Our state's cold-shouldered rejection can correctly be called xenophobia, but in Middle Georgia we might more easily identify it as sin.

Creede Hinshaw, a retired United Methodist pastor of 36 years, can be contacted at hinnie@cox.net.

This story was originally published December 4, 2015 at 9:33 PM with the headline "FROM THE PULPIT: Is xenophobia spelled s-i-n? ."