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One song I hope he resurrects is one of the most difficult songs in Dylan’s entire canon, the obscure “I Pity the Poor Immigrant.” Inspired (some would even say “borrowed”) from the traditional Irish song, “Come All Ye Tramps and Hawkers,” Dylan’s mournful arrangement of the song on the John Wesley Harding album provides a touch of pathos:
I pity the poor immigrant
Whose strength is spent in vain
Whose heaven is like iron sides
Whose tears are like rain
Echoing these emotionally charged times, it is beyond disturbing to see the amount of hatred spewing at immigrants and refugees lately — or people even assumed to be immigrants — by total strangers, whether in person, on bumper stickers, at demonstrations, online, or even in the halls of Congress.
That many of those targeted are legal asylum-seekers, or who have been allowed entry on various government-sponsored programs over the past few decades, hasn’t mattered.
Even the most MAGA-submissive information source admits that only an infinitesimal fraction of immigrants are criminals. The vast, vast majority are moms, dads, sons and daughters seeking a better life. Some of them work with us. Some work for us. Some worship with us.
So why the hatred? Why the indiscriminate sweeps that snatch people each day — tens of thousands of them now — regardless of their citizenship status, invading houses of worship and schools, separating families, criminalizing the innocent, and even detaining American citizens?
Perhaps it is simple political expediency: Hate raises money. President Donald Trump has a long history of using inflammatory, degrading and sometimes dangerous language in describing immigrants. He publicly claims that his efforts are in the name of national security and that refugees are criminals who take American jobs and bleed our resources. That rhetoric carries a haunting echo of the Know Nothing Party of the 1840s, which opposed immigration on the grounds of protecting racial purity. This point of view has been most recently expressed in Trump’s quote from a September 2023 interview with Raheem Kassam, editor in chief of The National Pulse and the former director of Breitbart News London, where Trump claimed of the recent immigration surge: “It’s poisoning the blood of our country.”
Alas, this bile seems a continuation of a nasty streak in the American psyche that stretches back to the earliest days of the Republic, when citizens, media sources, legislators and (sadly) clergy attacked and demonized African Americans, Catholics and the Irish. Later, it became Eastern Europeans, Asians, sexual minorities and so many others. Reading the Civil War-era newspapers, I see the same venomous slanders — sometimes almost verbatim.
Perhaps it is recency bias, but it seems anti-immigrant attacks are coming now at a greater frequency than ever before, especially from certain politically aligned religious leaders.
And yet that’s not what’s in my Bible. Instead, I see verses like: “Do not take advantage of a hired worker who is poor and needy, whether that worker is a fellow Israelite or a foreigner residing in one of your towns.” — Deuteronomy 24:14.
Or Hebrews 13
“Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unaware.”
Or, most notably, Matthew 25:31-40, from Jesus’ final set of teachings, which are mostly about His return. Who will join Jesus in heaven? He says it will be those who showed Him compassion in life: “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’”
Back to Dylan’s song. I don’t understand all of the cryptic imagery in the lyrics, but his final stanza resonates deeply with me:
I pity the poor immigrant
Who tramples through the mud
Who fills his mouth with laughing
And who builds his town with blood
Whose visions in the final end
Must shatter like the glass
Throughout his career, Dylan has strongly identified with the nameless immigrants who work on our roads and roofs in blistering heat, who harvest our fruits and vegetables in appalling conditions, who risk everything on the chance — no matter how small — for a better life for themselves and their children. These people deserve our compassion, not our hate.
Or, to quote a sign held by a little girl I saw during a Saturday, June 14, demonstration: “Jesus loves the people you hate.”
What Jesus and Bob Dylan have to say about deporting immigrants
Singer/songwriter/cultural icon Bob Dylan is enjoying a remarkable late-life renaissance, beginning with the Oscar-winning biopic A Complete Unknown. At age 84, Dylan is garnering some of the best reviews of his career on an expansive nationwide tour, often dipping deep into his voluminous bag of original songs.One song I hope he resurrects is one of the most difficult songs in Dylan’s entire canon, the obscure “I Pity the Poor Immigrant.” Inspired (some would even say “borrowed”) from the traditional Irish song, “Come All Ye Tramps and Hawkers,” Dylan’s mournful arrangement of the song on the John Wesley Harding album provides a touch of pathos:
I pity the poor immigrant
Whose strength is spent in vain
Whose heaven is like iron sides
Whose tears are like rain
Echoing these emotionally charged times, it is beyond disturbing to see the amount of hatred spewing at immigrants and refugees lately — or people even assumed to be immigrants — by total strangers, whether in person, on bumper stickers, at demonstrations, online, or even in the halls of Congress.
That many of those targeted are legal asylum-seekers, or who have been allowed entry on various government-sponsored programs over the past few decades, hasn’t mattered.
Even the most MAGA-submissive information source admits that only an infinitesimal fraction of immigrants are criminals. The vast, vast majority are moms, dads, sons and daughters seeking a better life. Some of them work with us. Some work for us. Some worship with us.
So why the hatred? Why the indiscriminate sweeps that snatch people each day — tens of thousands of them now — regardless of their citizenship status, invading houses of worship and schools, separating families, criminalizing the innocent, and even detaining American citizens?
Perhaps it is simple political expediency: Hate raises money. President Donald Trump has a long history of using inflammatory, degrading and sometimes dangerous language in describing immigrants. He publicly claims that his efforts are in the name of national security and that refugees are criminals who take American jobs and bleed our resources. That rhetoric carries a haunting echo of the Know Nothing Party of the 1840s, which opposed immigration on the grounds of protecting racial purity. This point of view has been most recently expressed in Trump’s quote from a September 2023 interview with Raheem Kassam, editor in chief of The National Pulse and the former director of Breitbart News London, where Trump claimed of the recent immigration surge: “It’s poisoning the blood of our country.”
Alas, this bile seems a continuation of a nasty streak in the American psyche that stretches back to the earliest days of the Republic, when citizens, media sources, legislators and (sadly) clergy attacked and demonized African Americans, Catholics and the Irish. Later, it became Eastern Europeans, Asians, sexual minorities and so many others. Reading the Civil War-era newspapers, I see the same venomous slanders — sometimes almost verbatim.
Perhaps it is recency bias, but it seems anti-immigrant attacks are coming now at a greater frequency than ever before, especially from certain politically aligned religious leaders.
And yet that’s not what’s in my Bible. Instead, I see verses like: “Do not take advantage of a hired worker who is poor and needy, whether that worker is a fellow Israelite or a foreigner residing in one of your towns.” — Deuteronomy 24:14.
Or Hebrews 13

Or, most notably, Matthew 25:31-40, from Jesus’ final set of teachings, which are mostly about His return. Who will join Jesus in heaven? He says it will be those who showed Him compassion in life: “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’”
Back to Dylan’s song. I don’t understand all of the cryptic imagery in the lyrics, but his final stanza resonates deeply with me:
I pity the poor immigrant
Who tramples through the mud
Who fills his mouth with laughing
And who builds his town with blood
Whose visions in the final end
Must shatter like the glass
Throughout his career, Dylan has strongly identified with the nameless immigrants who work on our roads and roofs in blistering heat, who harvest our fruits and vegetables in appalling conditions, who risk everything on the chance — no matter how small — for a better life for themselves and their children. These people deserve our compassion, not our hate.
Or, to quote a sign held by a little girl I saw during a Saturday, June 14, demonstration: “Jesus loves the people you hate.”