Strangers in the Global Village: Faith, Media, and Justice for Migrants and Refugees

How can we respond faithfully to immigration in an age of viral images, tribal politics, and 24/7 media? Four unlikely guides—Thomas Merton, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Marshall McLuhan, and Mortimer Adler—offer wisdom for seeing, judging, and acting with justice and mercy.

The Ahmed Family’s Arrival

Imagine a family—let’s call them the Ahmeds. They could be from any country, at any time, seeking a better life. They fled Syria six years ago after their neighborhood in Aleppo was destroyed by war. For three years, they lived in a refugee camp in Turkey, waiting, hoping, and trying to regain some normalcy in tents and temporary shelters. Finally, after many interviews and security checks, they were granted resettlement. When they stepped off the plane in their new country, they carried nothing but two suitcases and a lifetime of trauma.

But the Ahmed family didn’t just arrive in a new place—they entered a media landscape already influenced by headlines, sound bites, and social media algorithms. Before they could even say hello, they were labeled: ‘migrant,’ ‘refugee,’ ‘other.’ Some neighbors welcomed them with casseroles and English lessons, eager to help. Others viewed them with suspicion, their perceptions shaped by images on the evening news and viral posts warning of ‘invasions’ and ‘threats to our way of life.’

This is the tension we face today:

The fear of the stranger versus the call to see the human dignity in every person, including migrants, which can inspire compassion and hope.

Four Unlikely Guides

In this posting, I want to invite you into a conversation with four unlikely guides-Thomas Merton, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Marshall McLuhan, and Mortimer Adler-whose insights can help us understand and respond to migration with faith and justice.

Thomas Merton, the contemplative monk who saw through the spiritual sickness of modern fear, racism, and war, and who insisted that every person bears the image of God.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the pastor and theologian who opposed Nazism and viewed discipleship as a costly act of solidarity with the vulnerable.

Marshall McLuhan, the media theorist, warned that our ‘global village’ could become violently tribal if we do not understand how the media shapes our perceptions and reactions.

Mortimer Adler, the philosopher and educator, believed that democracy requires citizens to be educated for the common good, not just for private advantage.

We’ll be guided by Joseph Cardijn’s method of

See–Judge–Act:

We see reality honestly—the facts about migration and how the media influences our perception. We

Judge it in the light of faith and reason—listening to what the Gospel and the best of human wisdom say. And we

Act for justice and the common good—specific actions rooted in mercy and faith that can empower and motivate us to respond with purpose.

SEE: What Is Happening to Migrants in Our ‘Global Village’?

The Reality on the Ground

Today, more than 110 million people worldwide are forcibly displaced—fleeing violence, persecution, hunger, and ecological disaster. This is the largest displacement crisis in recorded history. Many cannot find a meaningful life in their own land. Climate change is causing new waves of displacement as droughts destroy farms, floods wash away homes, and entire regions become uninhabitable. Economic collapse forces families to make impossible choices: stay and starve, or risk everything to find work elsewhere. Political violence tears communities apart, forcing people to flee for their lives.

Catholic social teaching offers three core principles on migration that hold together a both/and vision:

First, people have a right to migrate to support their lives and families. This stems from the belief that the earth’s resources are meant for everyone, not just those born in stable, prosperous countries.

Second, nations have both a right and a duty to regulate their borders. Sovereignty is important. Security is important. Order is important.

Third, nations must regulate with justice and mercy, always in light of human dignity and the common good—not narrow self-interest, fear, or scapegoating.

These principles remind us to balance rights and responsibilities, compassion and order, welcome and wisdom.

McLuhan: The Media-Shaped ‘Global Village’

Marshall McLuhan famously described the world as a ‘global village’—a single resonant space where electronic media turn ‘our world into a single unit.’ He compared it to a continuously beating tribal drum, where information and images travel instantly around the globe, collapsing distances and time.

But McLuhan did not see the global village as a cozy, harmonious place. He warned it would be ‘arduous,’ ‘abrasive,’ and characterized by ‘retribalizing’ tensions. When people are thrown close together by media without real relationships or genuine encounters, they can become more ‘savage’ and impatient with each other, not less. The same technology that connects us can also divide us, intensifying our worst impulses and tribal instincts.

Apply this insight to immigration: Images and stories of migrants and refugees are shared instantly worldwide. A photo of a child separated from parents at the border. A viral video of a boat capsizing in the Mediterranean. A politician’s tweet fueling fears of ‘caravans’ and ‘invasions.’ These images can either generate genuine compassion for suffering families or ignite fear, resentment, and tribal backlash.

The medium shapes the message, and understanding this can help us see whole people behind fragments, fostering awareness and responsibility.

Ask yourself: When you think about migrants today, whose stories have you actually seen or heard—real people with names and faces, or mostly political sound bites and headlines designed to trigger a reaction?

JUDGE: What Do Faith, Conscience, and Reason Say?

Having looked at what is happening, we now ask: How do we judge this reality in the light of the Gospel and the best of human wisdom?

Merton: Contemplation Against Fear and Dehumanization

Thomas Merton was a Trappist monk who spent much of his life in silence and solitude at the Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky. But far from being disconnected from the world, Merton saw clearly the spiritual sickness of modern society: the fear, racism, violence, and war that dehumanize both victim and perpetrator.

Merton emphasized that every person bears the image of God and cannot be reduced to a problem, a statistic, or a threat. He wrote about the dangers of what he called ‘mass society’—where people lose their individuality and are categorized into tribes and enemies. In such a society, the stranger becomes a projection screen for our fears rather than a person with a face, a name, and a story.

Merton believed that contemplation reveals illusions. When we are still, when we pray, and when we practice interior silence, we start to see through the lies—the propaganda, stereotypes, and ideologies that pit ‘us’ against ‘them.’ We begin to see the migrant not as an enemy created by media or politics, but as a person—a beloved child of God, just like us.

This contemplative gaze doesn’t ignore complexity or danger. It doesn’t demand we be naive. But it

It refuses to collapse a human being into a category. It creates space for recognition: ‘This is my sister. This is my brother. This is someone made in God’s image, just as I am.’

Interior silence and prayer, as Merton would say, become the foundation of hospitality and solidarity. You cannot genuinely welcome the stranger if you have not first embraced the truth about yourself—your own vulnerability, your need for mercy, and your status as an exile yearning for home.

Bonhoeffer: Confession, Responsibility, and Costly Solidarity

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a German Lutheran pastor and theologian who actively opposed the Nazi regime. His resistance wasn’t just theoretical—it cost him his freedom and, ultimately, his life. He was executed by the Nazis in April 1945, just weeks before World War II ended.

Bonhoeffer saw discipleship as costly solidarity with the vulnerable. He famously stated (paraphrased) that the church must not simply ‘bandage the victims under the wheel’—it must be willing to ‘jam a spoke in the wheel itself’ when injustice afflicts people.

In other words, charity alone is not sufficient. Christians are called not only to care for victims of unjust systems, but to challenge and change those systems.

Apply this to immigration: When systems and policies treat migrants as disposable—when families are separated, when asylum seekers are detained indefinitely in inhumane conditions, when refugees are turned away to face persecution or death—Christian discipleship calls not just for charity, but for responsible, public resistance.

This means speaking up, voting for just and merciful policies, and advocating for humane asylum processes. Organizing for systemic change and bearing witness, even when it’s costly.

Bonhoeffer also challenged the church with a piercing question: Are we

the church for others—including strangers at our borders—or only a religious club for ourselves?

He believed that true Christian community exists not for itself, but for the world. The church is called to be a sign and instrument of God’s justice and mercy—especially for those whom society rejects or fears.

McLuhan Again: Media Discernment as Moral Duty

Let’s return to McLuhan with fresh eyes. If the medium shapes the message, then how we see migrants through screens profoundly shapes our moral response.

McLuhan described the electric-media world as a ‘single constricted space’ resonant with ‘tribal drums.’ In such a world, identity crises can fuel violence. We see this playing out today: when people feel economically insecure or culturally displaced, they often look for someone to blame. And media—social media especially—amplifies that blame, turning complex realities into us-versus-them narratives.

A single image can go viral and influence millions of opinions within hours. A misleading headline can ignite outrage that drowns out the truth. Algorithms feed us content that affirms our existing beliefs, creating echo chambers where fear and resentment grow unchecked.

The moral implication is clear: Christians must practice media discernment. This means checking sources before sharing stories about migrants and resisting manipulative images designed to provoke fear or pity rather than understanding and intentionally seeking out stories that humanize migrants instead of demonizing them and recognizing when we’re being ‘retribalized’ by media that pits groups against each other.

Media discernment is not optional for Christians serious about justice. It’s a moral discipline, as important as prayer or fasting.

Adler: Education for the Common Good

Mortimer Adler was a philosopher and educator best known for his work with the Great Books program. He believed that a democratic society needs liberally educated citizens—people who can ask not just ‘What is good for me?’ but ‘What is the good life? What is the common good?’

Adler spent years teaching great books to working-class and immigrant adult learners in Chicago, through publications and talks he gave across the country. This experience convinced him that serious ideas belong to all people, not just elites. Philosophy, literature, history—these are not luxuries. They are tools that empower people on the margins to think critically, to claim their dignity, and to participate fully in democracy.

Apply this to immigration and the common good: A healthy democracy educates its citizens to consider the good of immigrants and refugees as part of the common good, not as a threat to it.

But too often, our public discourse treats immigration as a zero-sum game: their gain is our loss, their presence is our threat. This is a failure of education and imagination. The common good includes

everyone—natives and newcomers, citizens and strangers, those with power and those without.

Adler would urge us to engage in honest, rational conversation about immigration—a conversation rooted in shared human goods rather than slogans and fear. What does family unity require? What does work and dignity require? What does safety and security require? When we ask these questions seriously, we discover that the good of the immigrant and the good of the native-born are not opposed—they’re intertwined.

ACT: Concrete Responses for Our ‘Global Village’

Joseph Cardijn insisted that See and Judge must lead to Act. Knowledge without action is sterile. Conviction without commitment changes nothing. So what might Merton, Bonhoeffer, McLuhan, and Adler invite us to do?

From Merton: Spiritual Practices That Humanize

1. Commit to a regular practice of praying specifically for migrants and refugees. If possible, pray for them by name. Learn the names of refugee families in your community. Follow organizations working with migrants and lift specific situations in your prayer. Let your prayer life become a place where you practice seeing migrants not as problems but as beloved children of God.

2. Practice ‘contemplative media consumption.’ Before sharing a story about migrants on social media, pause. Breathe. Ask yourself: ‘Does this honor their dignity? Does this help me see them as people, or does it reduce them to a problem or a threat?’ Cultivate the habit of pausing before reacting, of seeing before judging.

From Bonhoeffer: Public Courage and Accompaniment

1. Get involved with a local ministry or charity that offers legal aid, language classes, or material support to immigrants and refugees. Don’t just donate—show up. Tutor a child learning English. Drive someone to an immigration appointment. Accompany families through the asylum process. Be present in their struggle.

2. Support policies and leaders that uphold the right to migrate and protect families, while seeking just and merciful regulation of borders. This might mean contacting elected officials, voting with immigration justice in mind, or advocating for humane asylum processes and against family separation.

3. Be willing to bear some cost—time, money, social discomfort—to stand with migrants. Solidarity isn’t free. Bonhoeffer knew this. Following Jesus means carrying a cross, not just feeling compassion from a safe distance.

From McLuhan: Media Literacy and Counter-Messaging

1. Educate yourself and others about how images and headlines can ‘retribalize’ pit groups against each other. Talk about this in your parish, your family, your small group. Help people see through manipulation. Share resources on media literacy.

2. Intentionally amplify stories that show migrants’ humanity and contributions. Share articles, videos, and testimonies that humanize rather than demonize. Turn the ‘global drum’ toward solidarity rather than fear. Use your social media platforms to counteract dehumanizing narratives.

From Adler: Education and Conversation for the Common Good

1. Start or join a reading or discussion group on immigration that includes voices of migrants themselves and classic texts on justice and the common good. Listen to stories. Read Scripture. Study Catholic social teaching. Wrestle with the questions together. Create spaces for genuine conversation, not just ideological combat.

2. In parish or civic settings, frame immigration debates around shared goods—family unity, work, safety, human dignity—rather than partisan labels. Refuse to let the conversation collapse into left versus right. Ask: What does the common good require of us? How can we create policies that honor both the dignity of migrants and the legitimate concerns of receiving communities?

Conclusion: See Clearly, Judge Wisely, Act Courageously

Merton calls us to a contemplative heart that sees the image of God in the stranger. This heart pauses before reacting and refuses to reduce people to stereotypes.

Bonhoeffer calls us to costly discipleship and public responsibility for those who suffer at the hands of unjust systems—a discipleship that doesn’t just bandage wounds but challenges the forces that inflict them.

McLuhan warns us that our ‘global village’ can become violently tribal unless we discipline how we receive and share media. This warning calls us to vigilance and discernment in a media-saturated age.

Adler reminds us that a genuine democracy educates its citizens to seek the common good, including migrants and refugees, not just private advantage—a reminder that calls us to think, to learn, to engage seriously with the questions that matter.

Together, these four voices offer us a path forward in an age of displacement, fear, and media-driven tribalism. They call us to:

See clearly the reality of migration in our global village, understanding both the facts on the ground and the ways media shapes our perceptions.

Judge wisely in the light of faith and reason, drawing on the best of Christian tradition and human wisdom to discern how we should respond.

Act courageously for justice and the common good, taking concrete steps—spiritual, relational, political—to stand in solidarity with migrants and refugees.

The question before us is not whether to care about immigration—the Gospel leaves no room for indifference to the suffering stranger. The question is

How will care? Will we allow fear and media manipulation to shape our response? Or will we cultivate the contemplative vision, costly solidarity, media discernment, and commitment to the common good that our moment demands?

The Ahmed family and other immigrants are still waiting for our answer. So are millions like them. May we have the courage to respond with both truth and love, with both wisdom and mercy, with both justice and compassion.

May we become the people our global village needs us to be.

What Will You Do?

I invite you to choose

One concrete action you will take this month for immigrants or refugees—personal, communal, or political. Write it down. Tell someone. Make it specific. Make it real.

The world is watching. More importantly, God is watching. And the stranger at our door is waiting.