portrait of an apology

this past weekend at church we had an egyptian christian retelling his testimony of how he was imprisoned and tortured in egypt for his faith. he told a daring story of courage, faith, and adventure, that ultimately led to him escaping a 100-thousand dollar fatwah in egypt by stealing a sea-doo, and racing between israeli and egyption warships in order to claim UN-political refuge status in israel. eventually, he was freed and supported by the UN and Amnesty International.

i must say, it was a hell of a story. he was tortured like....Alias style, the kind of stuff you only see in movies. he had to hide from authorities in his own city, escaping by night like some....egyptian...ninja guy....

anyways, his ultimate message was that every day, there are millions of persecuted christians that we should be praying for and stuff. to which i can't help but think, are persecuted christians really the greatest of my worries? i mean, i respect his exemplary strength and courage, but frankly it seems kind of hypocritical to concern myself only with persecuted christians. what about muslims in our western society? sure, they're not overtly tortured, but surely they live under an opressive social stigma in our current day and time. should i not pray for their rights? for cultural understanding in our own home? the hundreds of political prisoners taken in by the US government and held indefinitely in secret, without trial nor trace?

i dunno. i guess i have no point. i don't want to say the dude's message was unimportant, because i'm sure it is. all i know is that i felt kind of insulted that we should for whatever reason care more about certain persecuted individuals than others, simply because they are the same religion as me.

is that silly? i mean, i suppose it's like how we're expected to care more about our own family than strangers. but is it....actually, wrong to care about strangers as much as your family? would i be morally and ethically misprioritized if i took a bullet for a stranger before my own brother?

i'd like to think not. maybe i'm naively altruistic, or maybe i don't love my family enough. i dunno, but either way it bothers me to think otherwise.