Charity where the stranger is met with an open door in Limerick

AS WE continue our Jubilee Year of Hope, I have been reflecting on those organisations whose quiet commitment gives living testimony to hope in action.

In recent weeks we had the privilege of sitting down and chatting with John Lannon, CEO of Doras in Limerick about their inspirational work with immigrants, giving hope to people who have had none for so long.

Doras is one of those places where your faith in humanity is always assured. That’s because the stranger there is not met with suspicion, but with an open door.

It is fitting that Doras began its life in the year 2000, a moment of threshold and promise. As John recounts, it was founded by people from several faith-based organisations who recognised that welcoming those seeking asylum was not an optional extra of faith, but a core responsibility.

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They chose the name Doras — the Irish word for “door”. It is an expression of something profoundly Christian: the image of an open door, a place of welcome, a sign that someone belongs.

As we celebrate the great celebration of the birth of Christ, we think of the synergies here with Mary and Joseph as they sought lodgings. There was no room at the Inn. An image that encourages us to make room at our inn; in our hearts, in our neighbourhood and sometimes in our homes, for those seeking refuge.

Sometimes it can be a friend or family member in distress, someone who has fallen on hard times. Christmas and the New Year is especially a time for this. That symbolism has endured and it is lived each and every day by Doras.

Doras also stands for Development Organisation for Refugees and Asylum Seekers, a reminder that welcome must be accompanied by practical support, advocacy and justice. Hope, after all, is never vague or abstract; it is concrete, patient and rooted in the daily realities of people’s lives.

Ireland has changed greatly since Doras first opened its doors. Limerick, like so many cities, is now richly multicultural. What was once unfamiliar is now woven into the fabric of everyday life.

Our ‘New Irish’, people who have come to this country, sustain our health service, hospitality, construction, technology and so many other sectors. More importantly, they enrich our communities with languages, cultures, skills and stories. This is not something to be feared, but rather, despite challenges, to be celebrated.

Yet John is clear-eyed about the challenges. Doras is now far busier than its founders could ever have imagined, with up to thirty people a day coming through its doors. Many migrants live in deep poverty, but they do not come seeking charity in the narrow sense. They come seeking to access their rights, their entitlements, their dignity. They come seeking someone who will listen.

In a world where over one hundred million people are forcibly displaced, Ireland receives only a small number, and Limerick a smaller number still. Yet behind every statistic is a human face.

John speaks of people arriving from Gaza, from Sudan, from Ukraine — places marked by war, violence and unspeakable trauma. I was particularly struck by his story of a young man who escaped Gaza, traumatised and destitute, left on the streets with nowhere to go. Doras was his first port of call. There are, sadly, other such stories.

Polling has shown that the Irish public remains one of the most positive in the EU27 regarding their attitudes towards immigration. Regrettably, there’s a minority in Irish society who would want to radically cut into that welcome. Yet our overwhelming support of the victims of the war on Gaza society conflicts with that. This man, who came here deeply distressed from Gaza, represents this. Thankfully what he got was a door. Doras!

It was not rejection, humiliation. It was a welcome, it was support. A man overwhelmed by trauma, receiving a welcome, a helping hand.

What struck me also was John’s insistence on hope — not as optimism, but as perseverance and motivation. This is precisely the hope we are called to honour in this Jubilee Year. Doras reminds us that hope is sustained by relationships, by showing up day after day. It is hope with its sleeves rolled up.

As a Church, we speak often of welcoming the stranger, of recognising Christ in the migrant and the refugee. Pope Francis used to describe our task as that of welcoming and protecting, promoting and integrating refugees.

Doras shows us what this looks like in practice. It stands as a door left open — not just in name, but in spirit. A particularly hopeful thought this New Year.

For that witness, and for the faithful compassion of all who work and volunteer there, we give thanks. Doras is, without doubt, an exemplar of hope in our midst.