Family Separation: My Personal Story

My grandmother immigrated to the U.S. on the SS George Washington.

I hesitate to write the above headline, because the story I'm about to tell is not anywhere near as traumatic as the family separation currently happening to asylum seekers at the U.S./Mexico border. Nor does it compare to the brutal family separation that occurred during slavery, the disappearances during Jim Crow, in Native American "boarding schools" or currently in a culture of mass incarceration and immigrant detention. I hate to compare one person's trauma to another's, but some hesitation is warranted here.

Nevertheless, I think my story does a good job of showing how separation of any kind leaves long lasting trauma that affects our behavior and attitudes for generations to come—and how this trauma needs to be healed before full unity and wholeness in society or our institutions can be achieved.

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My grandmother immigrated from what is now modern day Slovakia to the United States (Ohio) in the early 1920s. She was 17 years old. She remembered saying goodbye to her mother. At that moment, she instinctively knew that she would never see her again. That turned out to be true.

She did return once to see her family back in Europe in the 1960s. She saw her brothers, sisters and extended family. I'm sure it was wonderful to have that reunion. It must also have been bittersweet to realize all the life together they were not going to experience.

Her first born son Emery joined the Navy and went off to the Pacific theater of World War II. He was 17 or 18—the same age as my grandmother when she left home for good. While overseas, he married a Philipino woman. They had three children, many grandchildren and great-grandchildren. They moved around a lot but always stayed in the Pacific rim. They settled on Hawaii, which was a halfway point for their respective families—and close to neither!

Growing up, we would see them as often as once every year. Their visits were full and fun. We actually saw them more frequently, and had more in-depth interactions with them, than some of my other aunts and uncles who lived a lot closer. We made sure to make our limited time together count. But there was always a pain. Uncle Emery and Aunt Betsy just couldn't be a regular fixture. We didn't see them at random weddings, funerals or 4th of July cookouts. We didn't just run into each other in the grocery store. No matter how close we were, the miles between us were always there. I have only seen some of my cousins once in my life.

These experiences of immigration brought out the best in people. It helped them to be daring, entrepreneurial and full of vigor. There is an energy that immigrants have that is hard to find anywhere else. But in these cases, it also brought lasting wounds for both themselves and their families. Some of those wounds have remained for decades, and it's the 2nd or 3rd generation immigrants who have to do the work to restore and heal.

Fast forwards several decades: I come of age. Without considering any of this history, I am surprised by how much hostility my family has to any of my plans to move around. Go to a faraway college? Move to another city? Move out of state? Travel abroad?? All those ideas were met with anger, resistance and disapproval. I actually hid those plans from my folks up until the last minute because I just couldn't bear all the guilt and negativity, which I saw as an affront to my own ideas and initiative. And it was. But today I see some of this in a new light.

I'm sure a lot more factored into my family's reactions than our immigration history, but I bet they factored in a whole lot more than any of us ever realized.

You see, nowadays communication and travel are different. It is relatively easy to get a plane ticket. Highways are well-developed. Phone calls are cheaper, if not downright free with you plan. Social media and video chatting are everyday realities rather than something only imagined on Star Trek. And the Soviet "iron curtain" no longer divides the world. 

But somewhere embedded in my family's consciousness is the idea that people who leave never come back. It's a permanent separation. You might as well be dead to them if you are going to leave your hometown. When I was about to make an out-of-state move, I watched them steel themselves emotionally as if they were preparing for a funeral. Their reactions seemed so over the top, so out of proportion—but today I see it differently. Their reactions were based on the 1920s rather than the realities of 2020.

My experiences are not unlike those of the character Miguel in the Disney Pixar movie Coco. The movie does a phenomenal job showing how trauma can continue to impact people in a family generations after the initial incident occurred, even when the initial incident is unknown to present day people. My family's fear of dividing the family was putting us at risk of causing a rift in the family again.

Multi-generational trauma is a significant factor at the foundation of just about every division in society.

Many people today don't understand why we should do anything to atone for slavery, for example. Or the brutalities of colonization. Many don't understand why we would bother do expend energy trying to mend Christian disunity, especially when some of the wounds are 500-1000 years old! But the more we come to understand how multi-generational trauma works, the more clearly we understand the imperative to do the good, ole fashioned Christian work of seeking forgiveness, atoning for wrongdoings and working toward restitution. Very few things are simply "in the past." People say that history does not impact them, but it clearly does, whether we realize it or not.

Multi-generational trauma impacts the Christian family tree as much as it does any other family. We'll explore that in the next post, stay tuned!

***

This is the second part in our series commemorating All Saints and All Souls Days, as well as Day of the Dead in Hispanic cultures. Reformation Sunday in Protestant churches. The voices, experiences and wounds of people in the past have a greater impact on us today than many of us even realize. On the path toward unity, we have to consider the role of multi-generational trauma plays in our divisions.

Part 1:  A Tale of Two Americas

Christians at the Southern Border!

Our fellow Catholic, Pentecostal and evangelical Christian
brothers and sisters in need--shut out at the border.
Photo by ABC News.

Christian dis-unity paves the way for the secular world to divide people for power and profit.

I have never once read an article warning about the masses of "Christians at the southern border."

I've been both an advocate and concerned citizen on all issues related to immigration for over 20 years. This includes looking the whole system of immigration as well as concern for migrants of all types: Refugees, asylum seekers and both documented and undocumented immigrants.

By contrast, whenever the United States seems to be stoking the fires for yet another war in the Middle East, I commonly hear about those so-called "Muslim nations."

In this blog serious through "Respect Life" October, we've been looking at how we talk about and encounter each other lays the foundation for how much we respect we have for each other—including respect for each other's lives.

In the gospels, Jesus seems to warn us about getting caught up in the labels society gives to people. Jesus ate with sinners and tax collectors and encountered all manner of people in genuine, respectful dialogue—especially people that his society warned him not to, such as Samaritans and lepers.

It is easy to infer that the reason we never hear about the "Christians at the southern border" is because that would likely increase sympathies for them, and there are forces at work that don't want that to happen. Likewise, those who are itching to go to war throw out the "Muslim" word since that is likely to decrease sympathies based on some egregious misunderstandings about the Islamic faith. Let's not fall for it.

The vast majority—if not the entirety—of immigrants coming to the U.S. from south of the border would virtually all identify as Christian in one form of another—Catholic, Pentecostal or evangelical.

By contrast, the populations of Middle Eastern nations are far more mixed. Each of them has a sizable Christian population, including some of the oldest Christian communities in existence. And few of those nations are "Muslim" in the strict sense of the word referring to a theocratic government.

Doesn't our mutual membership in the same Body of Christ mean anything here?

Do our loyalties to our national identity mean more than our identity through Christ?

Some of Jesus' most astonishing statements recorded in the gospels speak to this.

"Hate Your Father and Mother"

Jesus seems to want us  to deny our tribal bands of loyalties and to embrace the universal family revealed to us through Christ. This is how I understand the challenging verse in Luke 14:25-27 when Jesus says that whoever follows him must "hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters." I don't believe that Jesus is actually telling us to hate anyone —that seems hard to square with the guy who urges us to love one another up to and including our enemies! But I believe he is urging us to see beyond the loyalties based on family, race, religion, national origin, denomination or whatever false divided us and prevents us from seeing the oneness of all.

So when Jesus says "hate your mother" he's not asking us to hate the person but rather the title and the special privileges that come with it. That may be hard to do when it comes to such an important relationship like father and mother, but I get his point. I think of this this way:  Jesus is saying don't love someone less just because they are not a fellow American, a fellow white person, a fellow authorized, documented citizen or a fellow Christian. See past those labels to know—and ultimately love—the people behind them.

Conclusion

I'm not suggesting, of course, that we should reserve sympathies only for Christian immigrants or Christian majority nations. I believe the vision Jesus calls us into reaches far beyond those terms. But our mutual identification as believers who profess Christ, or at the very least searches who follow Jesus, who are baptized into the same Body of Christ, including people who are members of our own particular church or denomination, should count for something. It should count for a whole lot.

Our faith and trust in Jesus' words in the Gospels can help strengthen us to stand firm against the forces that would try to divide us. I'm not sure who people wants to sow division. Underneath it all, it is probably about power and money, as most evil is. Let's approach the world as Christians first and foremost, who care for members of our community and who reach out in genuine respect to those outside our community. Let Christ set the terms of our encounter with others do that we don't let selfish or political interests define, label and demean people for their own selfish gains.

How different of a world it would be if we were regularly reminded of our bonds to one another rather than reminded of our perceived differences. But since the rest of the world can't be counted on to do this, we must commit to doing this ourselves.

***

This is part 5 in a series during October on Respect Life.

Part 1: Ecumenical and Interreligious Dialogue is a Respect Life Issue

Part 2: Yes, Even "Those People"

Part 3: Dialogue: A Contemplative Practice

Part 4: White People Talking About Racism:  Do It Anyway

A Theology of Borders: The Dignity of Work

Freedom consists not in doing what we like, but in having the right to do what we ought.

-- Pope John Paul II, Homily at Camden Yards, Baltimore, October 8, 1995

Most Christian denominations affirm the right to life, the right of people to work and migrate and the right of nations to establish and maintain borders. These must all be held in balance*.

But how does Christian theology derive the right of a nation to have a border? What does that have to to with the Bible or the life of Jesus?

Let's break it down: Theologically, a border is an extension of the right to private property--which is an extension of the dignity of work--which is related to the dignity of life itself.

Okay, that sounds like so much gobbeldy-gook! Let's use this example to break it down further:

Imagine yourself a carpenter. 

All human life has dignity, being created in the image and likeness of God. We are all in agreement here, right?

But human life is not static--we are built do move and to do. Another word for "life in motion" is our vocation--our life's work. It's not enough to simply be alive in the narrowest sense, we also have our life mission to do. After all, to be fully alive is to "do" as well as "be." Everyone with me so far?

All humans have the same vocation--to love and God and neighbor. Jesus made that abundantly clear (Jesus himself is recorded as having instructed this here: Matthew 22:36-38; Mark 12:28-34; Luke 10:27; John 13:34-35. Other examples: Romans 13:8-10; Galatians 5:14). But each of us lives out that mission differently. Some have the vocation to be a carpenter.  

So where do borders and private property come in?  It is simple, actually: In order to properly follow God through your vocation as a carpenter, you need access to tools. If you have to wait several months to borrow a hammer and saw, that will negatively affect your ability to live out your God-given vocation. So having reliable access to tools is essential. [In truth, privately owning tools is not the only way to guarantee access, as collective ownership arrangements can also serve this purpose quite well, but for the purposes of this piece let's stick with talking in terms of private ownership.]

Borders function is more or less the same way. If you are are building furniture, for example, you need space to do that. If you build furniture in public areas, your work may be disrupted when nature has other plans or when children or farm animals stampede through. There are also safety concerns in that. So in order to live out your God-given vocation to be a carpenter, you have a right to establish a "border"--you may erect a building in which to do your work uninterrupted and safely. 

God respects our freedom, but our rights are neither absolute nor totally open-ended. Our right to have tools and create borders is for the purposes of loving God and neighbor. See quote at the top from Pope John Paul II.

Nations

The same rights that an individual has can also apply to groups of people. People have the right to congregate together to form nations. But our collective and individual vocation is the same--we congregate in order to love God and neighbor better than we could on our own. And nations have the right to access to resources and space to do this work. This is how Christians understand it even if your secular neighbors see it differently.

This is where the concept of social justice comes in. Just as there are individual rights and responsibilities, so too are there rights and responsibilities for whole societies and systems.

Hierarchy of Rights

Ok, so people have the right to life and to work and nations have a right to establish space for themselves with a border. What happens when these rights come in conflict?  

Some rights serve a higher purpose than others. 

For example, your right to establish a private carpentry shop is valid. But if people are fleeing from high flood waters due to a hurricane, they certainly have the right to break into your shop and disrupt your work to find safety.

If someone's life is in danger, or if their life is so seriously restricted that they cannot live out their vocations, Christian theology would say that their right to life trumps your right to a border (all else equal). They may cross your border--even without your permission--in order to save their life or to fully live out their life mission.

However, sometimes it may seem like rights are in conflict but in a deeper look we may see that they are actually not in conflict at all. The purpose of your carpentry shop is, after all, so that you can love God and neighbor more fully. Your shop being a safe refuge would certainly accomplish that. Perhaps you are building furniture for the poor.  So their intrusion may certainly disrupt your carpentry work, but those folks won't need furniture if they aren't alive. Perhaps instead you can use your carpentry skills and resources to build shelter for them and go back to furniture making after the crisis.

So nations have a right to establish a border, but that right is never an absolute. It has to be weighed against other needs, some of which may be more important. The earth was created for all, after all. Having private property and space can serve a God-given purpose and may even be essential to fully living out our vocation. But hoarding resources while others are starving or severely limited is never of God. Yes, that means those of us with abundant resources may have to give a little--or a lot--and that's okay.

So people have the right to migrate in order to protect their lives and well as to live out their own vocation to work. The rest of us have an obligation to make room for them.  After all, a border is not just to exclude but rather to create a space where you can include others in a better, safer, richer way!

In a way, when people come to the border--or across it--begging for help, they are in a sense making our work easier. I say this not to make light of a genuine crisis and the difficulties that arise on both sides. But it is "easier" in the sense that we don't have to go looking for people to serve or spend time discerning what to do--the people we need to love are literally right there.

***

For a deep dive into related concepts, some of which inspired this piece, I highly recommend Laborem Exercens by Pope John Paul II.

***

* -- This piece is mostly built on Catholic theology but many of the same principles are articulated in Protestant and evangelical theology, as well.

Forgetting

The huddled masses, desperate, weary, worn, scared but hopeful.

When a foreigner resides among you in your land, do not mistreat them. The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners in Egypt. I am the Lord your God.

Leviticus 19:33-34 

I've seen this quote from Scripture a lot lately in reference to the immigration debate in the U.S. I'd like to focus on a part that we often gloss over:

"for you were foreigners in Egypt."

Let’s break this down.

So much of the Old Testament is about a people who are always forgetting where they have come from. When times were tough, they would beg to God and to anyone else who'd listen. But when the good times came, their haughtiness returned. They were quick to forget what it was like before. They judged others more harshly, lost sympathies for the suffering and generally forgot the poor. We  resonate with these stories because today we are still at risk of falling into the same habits.

Native Americans have been here for thousands of years. Africans were brought here as slaves. Virtually everyone else is either an immigrant or a descendant of immigrants. And most immigrants did not arrive in the best of shape. Many were fleeing war, persecution of all kinds or poverty. In short:  Most didn't come here because life was all that grand back home. Most were begging for help, an opportunity or just a space to live in peace.

Even if you don't have a living memory of being a foreigner, you still would not be here today if people mistreated your ancestors when they were foreigners in need. It doesn't matter if all of your ancestors came here "legally." Besides, that's always a debatable point. When the first European settlers arrived to the New World, they made no hesitation about pushing out the people who were already here. Driving out established cultures of people certainly meets any thinking person's definition of "illegal." On top of that, dig into the past and learn the finer details of how waves of immigrants from different countries arrived and you'll find that the process was a whole lost messier (and yes, very often illegal) than you might have thought:  See this link for explanation.

So many Americans living today are descendants from the people on the Mayflower. But those folks would probably have died if it weren't for the generosity of the Wampanog. Have we been as generous to them and their descendants as they were to us?

If you are white, somebody probably helped your ancestors when they arrived here. At the very least, they created a safe, peaceful system to live in and thrive. Someone almost certainly helped your ancestors when the chips were down, when one person's--or one nation's--generosity made all the difference between life and death. You would be not here today otherwise. That should still matter to you today. That should be a permanent reminder to walk more humbly, judge less harshly and be merciful to all--because we were all in that position at one time.

The quote from Leviticus doesn't say "your ancestors were foreigners." No, it says "you were foreigners." Whether you were born yet or not doesn't seem to matter. Most Americans today--especially white Americans--simply do not think of themselves as "a people." Their ancestors were just some people who came over on a boat, but we rarely think of them as "us." It is not normal for humans to be so disconnected and to lose the ability to identify with one's own ancestors and say "we" when referring to them.

Lack of Collective Identity in the White Community

Part of the issue is something I've heard in a paneldiscussion on racial reconciliation at the Southern Baptist Convention in Birmingham, Alabama: The white community does not think collectively. In fact, most white people do not even self-identify as members of "the white community." We think individualistically.  However, the African American community has developed a more collective understanding--what happens to one black person happens to all. I think their approach is much more honest and much more human than what white people do, and I appreciate this panel for making these points.

If you think individualistically as most white people are trained to do, then it's hard to notice all the ways that the system has supported, encouraged and enabled you and your efforts. It's easier to take credit for successes and downplay all the ways the community and the system has helped you. It is also easier to disavow any responsibility for helping your neighbor if individual effort were the sole determiner for success--you can simply blame them for their struggles and rest easy with a clean conscience.  However, this is not an honest nor a responsible read of the situation. 

And in light of the Scripture verse at top:  It's easy to forget that what happened to your ancestors still matters to you today.  The past matters. Our families matter. We would not be here today if somebody didn't help out our ancestors.

The prevailing idea in the white community is that we are disconnected individuals. There is no such thing as a "system." Your own hard work and enterprise is all that is needed for success.

Why would people in the white community gravitate toward this idea? Simple:  If you are the group with virtually all the power, wealth and privilege, and all white people are so some extent (yes, even the very poor), it behooves you to deny the system because the system is unfair.

Black people tend to see themselves as members of the black community. They have a more collective identity. What happen to one black person happens to them all. And the successes of one black person also is felt by all. This is normal and natural. It is the white community which is unusual because we try to divorce ourselves from that.

White people forget that we are a people, we have a history, we have inherited both a good and a bad legacy that we have responsibility for. We forget that we belong to each other and have responsibilities to each other. Why?  It is easy when a group has most of the power, privilege and wealth to want to divorce themselves from a collective identity. It's easy to want to duck responsibility and to take credit for things that are at least partially the result of  class and racial privilege.

Christians: Are your issues with immigrants really about the law?

I want to ask Christians a very serious question. I ask for your sincere prayer on this. Many Christians say they have no problem with immigrants as long as they come here legally. They cite Romans 13 to support this. They demand that immigrants "respect our laws." They say it's just that simple.

I have heard thousands of complaints about undocumented immigrants over the last several years. However, I have very rarely heard any public outcry over the business owners who knowingly hire them--an act which is often a much more serious illegal offense than simply being here without proper documents, as this article points out (see comments for article).

If you say that the business owners are just caught in a difficult circumstance where the market forces them to hire undocumented workers or go out of business... then perhaps it is also easy to believe that the people coming here without papers are also being forced to do so due the very same market forces.

This is what makes it so difficult to believe objections over undocumented immigrants are really about the law. Because if it is about the integrity--or even as some say, the sanctity of the law (in light of their interpretation of Romans 13)--then that judgment would be applied more consistently to all. In fact, the native-born citizen business owners no doubt have a team of lawyers to make sure they know the law whereas an undocumented immigrant from another country would most likely not have those kinds of resources. But few decry the whole system that illegally exploits and benefits from the labor of undocumented immigrants... virtually all complaints are about the immigrants themselves.

People get offended when they are accused of being "racist" or having prejudices against another culture, language, race or ethnicity or just a general unwelcoming of "outsiders" or people who look or seem "different" (it wouldn't be a religious objection, because the immigrants from Central America are almost all Evangelical, Pentecostal or Catholic Christians--you would think the common religious tradition would form a bond between people but in this case not so much). I don't enjoy making those accusations, either, if for no other reason than it tends to interrupt the possibility for a discussion and puts people on the defensive. However, I hope you understand that inconsistencies like those pointed out above lead people wonder what the REAL reason is for the hard hardheartedness when it comes to immigrants. It really does not seem like the stated reason (the law) is the real reason.

Further, many immigrants (such as asylum seekers) are NOT even doing anything illegal but the negative outcry is the same. Many who are speaking out against immigrants do not even bother to hear directly from the immigrants themselves as to why they do what they do and the difficult circumstances they are in and the hard choices they have had to make. Quick, harsh judgments are made about them without a sincere, thoughtful, personal inquiry.

There are people so upset over immigration they want a wall almost 2,000 miles long to keep "them" out. Some are so upset they demand armed militia "protect" the border--a ridiculous idea but I mention it here to illustrate a point: I don't hear any proposed ideas to discourage business owners or hold them accountable for their illegal practices. I don't see protests outside of the HQ of these businesses nor do I hear a desire for these business owners to be subjected to the same dehumanizing and abusive conditions which immigrants are subject to in our immigrant detention facilities (just for the record, I don't support that either, but I mention it to illustrate a point). Usually Christians don't see themselves as enforcers of the law of the state, and it's rarely the business of the church what relationship people have with the secular law. But in the case of immigration, I hear so much seething moral condemnation. The only factors that correlate to the outrage seem to be race, religion and ethnicity.

My neighbors set off illegal fireworks all year. Many hunt outside of season without a license. Speeding and other traffic offenses are just a way of life. People buy and sell "under the table" to avoid taxes. What about respect for these laws? I don't hear much outrage over this, at least nothing that compares to the utter moral disgust that people claim they have for immigrants--and just to be clear, only immigrants from south of the border. There are actually many undocumented immigrants from Europe and Canada, but again... I don't hear much outrage. But LEGAL immigrants who are refugees from Africa--or who are Muslim--or LEGAL asylum seekers from Central America--and there's all sorts of outrage.

So is it REALLY about the law? I sincerely ask you to take some time and bring this question to prayer. Where is the outrage really coming from, and is it fair? is the outrage proportional to the actual offense you have identified, and are you equally offended by all parties according to the metric (i.e. the law) that you are using to base this judgment? If not, are you willing to do better? Are you willing to repent, seek forgiveness and "sin no more" (John 8:11)?

Pray about it.

Personal Responsibility at the Border and a Prayer

Some people try to blame migrant parents for the unbelievably tragic deaths of migrants at the U.S. border. The photo above of the young man with his 23-month old daughter tucked in his shirt with her arm around his neck, haunts me. They died attempting to cross the Rio Grande River in order to seek safety within the U.S. 

While I disagree wholeheartedly with those who put blame on the migrant parents (because seriously, how can you blame people who are *literally* running for their lives?), they are right about one thing: This is indeed an issue of personal responsibility:

Our personal responsibility to be accountable for what our government does under our name with our tax dollars. The law is one thing but enforcement is another. There is no excuse for the inhumane, abusive treatment of desperate migrants. We can--and must--do better. 

Our personal responsibility for addressing the consequences of our actions when we destabilize other nations through brutal regime change or equally brutal trade policies, such as what the USA does in Honduras, El Salvador, etc. Migrants are fleeing the resulting violence and chaos.

Our personal responsibility to deeply and sincerely hear the cries of those begging for help, taking them abundantly seriously and doing all in our power to welcome, show compassion and be a vehicle for God's mercy.

Our personal responsibility to be our brothers' and sisters' keeper, as outlined in Scripture (Genesis 4).

Our personal responsibility to follow the Gospel call to love one another. This is in fact the Greatest command that Jesus himself gives. I want to give Scripture verses here but I could list dozens and dozens of places in Scripture telling us to do this very thing.

Our personal responsibility to welcome the stranger (Matthew 25).

Our personal responsibility to be merciful. Numerous examples all through Scripture attest to this, from the mercy of the Good Samaritan to the Beatitudes. The whole of Scripture is a story of mercy, it can be argued. But do we listen?

Yes, this is all about personal responsibility. Our individual and collective responsibility as members of our United States society.

And being accountable for our own actions. 

And facing the consequences of our political, cultural, social and individual decisions in the voting booth, in the marketplace, in our communities and globally, and in our personal relationships, our personal budget and with our time and talent.

If you say:  "It's not my problem! It's the migrant parents fault! What do you think I am... my brother's keeper??" Just remember who first used that line of reasoning:

Then the Lord said to Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?” 

He said, “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?”

And the Lord said, “What have you done? 

Listen; your brother’s blood is crying out to me from the ground!

Genesis 4:9-10

Or perhaps our brothers' and sisters' blood is crying out to God--and to us--from the rivers, as well.  

I don't want to share this photo. But I think I have to. How many of you out there are fathers? Perhaps with a 23-month old daughter?

I am a father with a 2-year old daughter. I know I'm going to hold her closer tonight than ever. But I'm not sure I can hold her as tight as this daughter and father were holding each other on this fateful journey. May their arms be forever joined in love and safety for all eternity.

My Prayer

May God have mercy on the U.S. for creating the conditions abroad that are so desperate people are forced to flee for their lives.

May God have mercy on the U.S. for making it as hard as possible for these same desperate people to find safe shelter here. Turning them away--when we have ample space and resources--at the very moment of their greatest, most desperate need. They had nothing but the hope to beg for help.

May God have mercy on the people of the U.S. who find the flimsiest excuses to turn them away, turn their backs to them and suspect the worst in them, without even bothering to find out for sure.

May this father and daughter find the peace they were working so hard to find in the arms of their loving God, Father and Mother. Because they certainly didn't find it here in the arms of their fellow Christians, their fellow humans, their neighbors to the north, their brothers and sisters on earth.

May their love and embrace echo through eternity.

***

Have you prayed for the migrants at the border?  

If you haven't, I ask you to do it now.

Then I ask you to pray for yourself--that God may open our hearts, open our minds to God's wisdom, and turn our paralysis--or indifference--into action on behalf of those suffering the most.

Why We Don't Say 'Illegals'

You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.

Exodus 20:16

Imagine:  You are walking in a parking lot on a hot, summer day. You notice a baby in distress inside a locked car. There are no other adults around, including the child's parents.

What do you do? Without question: You break into the car to save the baby. 

Would it be fair if people called you a “criminal” for “breaking into a car”? No, that would be woefully unfair. You are saving a baby’s life, not criminalizing a car—even though, in a very limited, technical sense, someone could rightfully point that out you did indeed break into a car without permission. 

However, we all know that it would be misleading to be labelled as a “criminal carjacker” for the rest of your life for this effort to save the life of a baby. It would be far more likely that people would refer to you as a "hero."They would describe your actions as "saving a baby's life" not "breaking into a car." People would mention breaking into the car only in passing to describe how it happened. They would not use that action to label who you are.

In much the same way, undocumented immigrants should not be called “illegals” nor should asylum seekers be said to be “sneaking in.” These terms paint a misleading picture—no doubt to discredit and reduce sympathy for these people. However, spreading a misleading testimony about others is a violation of one of the 10 Commandments.

An asylum seeker can legally enter the U.S. without papers and then apply for asylum. Some may indeed enter on their own (i.e. "sneak in") while they are in the process of requesting asylum. However, it would be a false witness to label them as "sneaking in." It would be far more accurate to describe them—and their actions—as "seeking asylum." That is the more fair and honest witness of our neighbors' actions. While they are in the long process of seeking asylum, one of their actions may be to "sneak in" but it would be misleading to take that one minor instance to label the whole person.

To say that some asylum seekers are “sneaking in” is to exploit a technicality to build a misleading caricature of the person. It is a lie, even if it is based on some degree of truth. After all, it is quite possible to spread a false testimony using only factually true statements to do so!

Furthermore, the asylum seekers in the migrant caravan are not an "invasion" nor are they a "threat"—even the U.S. military has confirmed this, so anyone continuing to use those terms has no justification for doing so and is simply violating God's commandment at this point.

Most undocumented immigrants are not "criminals." They are good people who have made a difficult decision to escape violence and poverty and to provide for their families. They have proven this by being good neighbors to us all these years living here in the states. It would be breaking one of God's commandments to refer to them as "illegals," because that is a false testimony of who they are—it would be more accurate to say they are good people who made a tough decision to provide for their families, and in doing so, some committed a legal misdemeanor. 

Just like the person who broke into the car to save the baby in the opening example, it would be far more truthful to refer to most undocumented immigrants are "heroes" rather than as "illegals."

My neighbors set off illegal fireworks all summer. Should I refer to them as "illegals"? Or are they just "folks having a good time"? Both are technically true, but which is the more honest witness? Given what the fireworks did to the sleep habits of my toddler, I don't have much sympathy for them. At least the undocumented immigrants did what they did in an attempt to provide for their families. All my neighbors are doing is just being inconsiderate of others.

How we label people perhaps says more about who we are more than it may say about the people we are attempting to describe. Perhaps we should just drop all these labels, as all of them dehumanize the people we are talking about by reducing these dignified, beautiful, complex human beings into some narrow category.

All Christians are Asylum-Seekers

A Christian IS an asylum-seeker.  

All of us.  Each of us.  

By definition.

As refugees, don't we need to flee from the sin of this world? Don't we come to the proverbial Gates of God's Kingdom as asylum-seekers, begging that God may allow us to enter?    

Some have argued—without exaggeration—that the entire Bible is a story of migration.

In the Bible, we read that Noah was adrift at sea until God brought his ark to a safe landing. Abraham set out with little more than his family en route to the Promised Land. Moses led the Israelites out of captivity and slavery. Jesus the Good Shepherd leads his sheep from the sin of this world to enlightenment and to His Kingdom, both on earth as it is in Heaven. The Apostles went forth into the world sharing the Good News. 

In the Catholic Church, we understand that we are a "pilgrim people." It's our very identity. See this link for quotes from documents of Vatican II as well as from Pope John Paul II on this. We are a people on the move.

Movement of people is an underlying theme in all of Scripture—in particular the movement of desperate people. I rarely say that "the Bible" has one message, but in this case it truly does. You could argue that it's there on every page, in every passage.

To not self-identify as a migrant is to understand neither the Bible nor Christianity.

To not understand that moving out of your comfort zone toward trusting in what God has prepared for you is to miss so much of the Biblical message. This can be an interior movement as your own thoughts mature or it can be an exterior change in your surroundings. It can be a movement you undertake as an individual, a family or as a whole nation of people.

Aren't we ALL asylum seekers who seek refuge in God's kingdom?

If there is ANY role that can best emulate our relationship with God, it should be that of refugee and asylum-seeker. This is how we come to God: We are the huddled masses of desperate, poor people gathered outside God's gate, begging for mercy and a warm welcome in—a welcome we can't purchase or deserve. And may God have mercy on us for how we treat others who are migrants, immigrants, refugees and asylum-seekers. We will want safe passage and a warm welcome into God's kingdom, but did we grant safe harbor to others when they begged for it, when we easily could have provided it?

This is the migrants journey—but not just any migrant.  This is the journey of a refugee—but not just any refugee. This is the journey of an asylum-seeker.  This is the position we are in when we come to God.  We are at the gates of God's Kingdom, begging for entry, and there is nothing we can do to merit it, earn it, buy it or deserve it. We have nothing to barter with. Only God's mercy will let us in, and thank God there is mercy in abundance!

It would be wrong to ignore many passages in the Bible which claim there is a direct relationship between the mercy we give in this world and the mercy we receive from God. Look at the story of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10:25-37 or the parable of the sheep and goats in Matthew 25:31-46. I know it is tricky as that enters into the whole "works vs grace" debate, and I don't want to get into that here. Furthermore, some people may not interpret these "Kingdom" passages to be about an afterlife in Heaven, but this blog post is written for those who do. Perhaps these passages have more to do with how well we "know God" rather than whether or not we get a ticket to Heaven.

So when you see the huddled masses who have traveled thousands of miles with little more than the clothes on their backs approaching the U.S. border begging for safety—THAT is exactly what we look like when we approach the proverbial Gates of Heaven.  

More importantly: Does that change our attitudes about them at all? 

Sometime we feel lost at sea, like Noah, doing all we can to just hold on for the ride. Sometimes we set out daringly like Abraham. Sometimes our whole family—and our whole people—are running for our lives like the Israelites out of Egypt. Sometimes we agree to our mission as formed disciples, like the Apostles. But in all this, we are a people on the move, trusting in God.

Maybe you'll "get to Heaven" whether you help out these asylum-seekers or not—after all, our God is a God of mercy. But then again how can you get to Heaven if you don't know God, and if you see these huddled masses and see neither yourself nor Christ in them, then can you really say you know God? And furthermore, don't you want to know God just for the sake of knowing God, whether or not that comes with a ticket to Heaven or not?

Innkeeper Spirituality

...and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them. - Luke 2:7

As the migrant caravan of asylum-seekers makes its 2,000 mile trek toward the U.S., I'm reminded of two characters from the Gospel of Luke:  The Innkeeper of Bethlehem and the Good Samaritan.

Whose example do we want to follow?

The Innkeeper

Many Christians today practice what I call "innkeeper spirituality." Like the innkeeper in Bethlehem, they can't seem to find any available time, talent or treasure to answer when God knocks on the door in real need.

They have no shortage of excuses, however. I can imagine the innkeeper saying things like:

"I am tired!"
"I have already helped others! In fact, I'm the most generous innkeeper around!"
"The census is the busiest time of the year!"
"I have to protect my time with my family!"
"I don't trust outsiders--what if one of them is a thief or murderer?"

Maybe those excuses are valid... maybe not so much.

Some characters in the Bible get a bad rap, and the innkeeper is no exception. Truth be told we don't know much about this person. How much can we infer based on a single line of text from a 2,000+ year old document?

It's even more confusing when the document doesn't even say what we think it says. There was no actual mention of an innkeeper. All we are told is that there was "no guest rooms available" and then it says "for them" (as a side note, were rooms available to others and just not to this particular family?)

Still, it's not hard to imagine what went down. Here is a family traveling from out of town and the woman is about to give birth. Joseph as husband and protector probably explored every possible option, promised every favor imaginable and left absolutely no stone unturned. I'm sure he inquired with at least one innkeeper. Perhaps he approached several innkeepers.

The innkeeper probably felt more than a little twang of guilt. We imagine him sternly saying "No!" and then slamming the door to the Holy Family. The more guilt he felt, the harder he had to bite down on that guilt in order to push away this family in need.

But seriously, he couldn't ask some young person to move off the proverbial couch to make way for an expectant mother-to-be? A pregnant woman about to give birth should be the one condition that would cause most everyone--even some of the most fearful or hardest hearted people--to make some space available! If a woman was literally about to give birth and knocked on my door at night, I couldn't imagine saying, "yeah, go outside to the shed... watch out for raccoons" It's almost inconceivable.

The Good Samaritan paying the innkeeper

The Good Samaritan

What could the innkeeper have done differently?

Luke himself actually gives us the answer later in the gospel in the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). Again, here is a stranger in need and another person who comes in contact with him by chance. Unlike the innkeeper in Bethlehem, the good Samaritan reaches out to the injured man. The Samaritan goes toward him. He takes the initiative. He takes personal responsibility for this man. He makes sure there is a room available for him by not only paying the innkeeper himself but also promising to return to personally check on him--to see if additional money were needed but perhaps also to check up on the innkeeper to make sure he did what he was paid to do.

This is no doubt a different innkeeper than the one in Bethlehem. Luke seems pretty hard on innkeepers. Still, isn't it curious that those who are in the business of providing hospitality seem to be the least hospitable in his gospel? It is outsiders who don't have as many resources to leverage who show us God's abundance!

The Samaritan does more than he is asked and goes the extra mile. The Samaritan was obviously busy and had somewhere to be, but he still made arrangements for his absence. Hopefully, he also reflected on why the man was injured in the first place and would raise his voice in public so that the road to Jericho could become a safer place in the future.

The Samaritan could have made all the same excuses as the innkeeper. No doubt the priest and the Levite who passed by the injured man gave those same excuses--the same excuses we tell ourselves when we drive by a person asking for a handout or when we close the border to people begging for help.

"Make every effort"

Hebrews 12:14 instructs us to "make every effort to live in peace with everyone and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord."

It is clear that the Good Samaritan "made every effort." It is also clear that the innkeeper did not.

Perhaps sometimes we do need to say "no." Even the most charitable people will speak of the need to set limits or risk burning out. But are we making every effort before we arrive at that point?

Back to the migrant caravan: The U.S. has large tracts of available land and empty housing. It is the richest nation in the history of modern civilization. On top of that, immigration of all types is generally a boost to the economy. Despite that, many Americans say to migrants, refugees and asylum-seekers: "We don't have room! We can't accommodate!"

Meanwhile, a much poorer nation like Uganda hosts the world's largest refugee settlement. How is Uganda willing and able to open its doors while the U.S. is not?

We have a choice: We can practice the innkeeper spirituality that always says "we can't." Or we can follow in the footsteps of the Good Samaritan who said, "Yes, I can do something here."

But if we turn them away, I have to ask:  How could they possibly be a burden? We could welcome in this whole migrant caravan of asylum-seekers and the vast majority of Americans would not feel even the slightest inconvenience.

My prayer: I hope each of these asylum seekers find safe harbor and a warm Christian welcome here in the United States.

Inclusion: The Default Christian Stance

Picture taken from here.

Make every effort to live in peace with everyone and to be holy;

without holiness no one will see the Lord. 

- Hebrews 12:14

News of the "migrant caravan" on its way to the U.S. border from Honduras has taken over the news cycle.

How are Christians to respond?

In all the arguments on all sides, there is one perspective I almost never hear:  "Make every effort" as the quote from Hebrews states.

There is no shortage of debate in this country. Arguments run the gamut from securing borders to opening them, to making short terms allowances to long-term immigration reforms.

Christians often get tangled in the tediousness of moral arguments.  They ask:  "Does a nation have a right to secure its borders at all?" "Can a Christian ever make the decision to exclude someone?"

The problem with the way we ask those questions is that we easily get lost in the details. Most theologians and pastors would argue that there are indeed times when we can exclude. But the question is: Should we? And should we now in this particular instance?

The fact that we can exclude in some very limited scenarios does not give us license to exclude in every scenario. This is the logical fallacy I hear being played out in debates on this subject ad infinitum. Those times it may be regrettably the right decision to exclude someone may be few and far between and in very specific cases.

The Christian ought to the on the side of the outsider. The Christian should be listening to the cries of the poor. The Christian should be bending over backwards to include. In fact, "inclusion" should be the default stance for a Christian: There is always room at the table for more. There is always extra food in the pot. And when we're not sure if there's enough, we'll trust in God to help us find a way to make way.

“…I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.” 
Isaiah 43:19

Let the theologians argue whether it is ever possible to exclude someone. Perhaps it is. But are we making every effort, as the quote from Hebrews above says? Are we showing sorrow when we have to close the door? Do we believe that God is "making a way" or do we throw up our hands after making little effort and say that nothing is possible?

The U.S. is the richest and most powerful nation in the history of the modern world. We have ample, available land for newcomers. On top of that, immigrants are most often a boost to the overall economy. If that weren't enough, it is quite often U.S. policies in the first place that may be forcing much of this migration of asylum-seekers. Looking at all that, under what criteria can we actually exclude those who come to the door seeking safe asylum?

We should make every effort to include. That should be where our heart is. That should be where our efforts are. If we ever make a decision to exclude some people, we should do it with a very heavy heart. We should regret it and feel sorrow. Most people who are against welcoming newcomers are those who almost certainly have not even tried to sympathize with their circumstances or have even tried to make room for them before reaching their decision to exclude. This is the scandal: The Christians who want to exclude migrants are most often those who haven't even tried to include them, and I don't see much sorrow about their decision.

If we have to reach the unfortunate decision to exclude someone who comes seeking safe refuge, we should do with all the sorrow as if we have indeed closed the door on Christ himself, because, in a very real way, we have (as Dorothy Day from the Catholic Worker movement reminded us over and over).

"We're a Nation of Laws..."

I often hear the retort "we're a nation of laws." Usually, it is given by someone justifying the exclusion of immigrants and a lack of compassion for their very difficult, often mind-numbingly horrific circumstances.

But what these folks probably don't realize is that they are saying more about who they are than about immigrants. When you say "we're a nation of laws," you are setting a standard for yourself--and a good one. It's a standard you should be proud of, but you need to know what it means:

When you say, "we're a nation of laws," you are saying that you believe in an ordered, civilized, peaceful society--even when others are not that way to you.

You are saying that you believe in being calm and compassionate--even when others are not.

You are saying that law and order are the driving principles of society--not brutality, vigilantism or nastiness.

You are saying that you believe that violent, aggressive individuals can be treated with dignity and decency, once apprehended--even if they are not that way to you.

Why can all of this be said?  It's because we're a nation of laws. We have high standards.  We believe in those standards. Others cannot make us change--we are in control of what we do, not anyone else. Their behavior does not change our behavior.

We believe in living out our principles rather than resorting to our base fears and impulses. We are driven by laws, not mob mentality. We are driven by principles, not impulses.

When you say "we're a nation of laws," that does not mean that the letter of the law can be used to justify any kind of horrific treatment of someone who falls outside of those laws. In fact, it means the opposite, as due process for all--citizen and non-citizen--is an integral part of those laws. People are to be treated well while society processes their case humanely, calmly, fairly and in a timely fashion.

We believe that civilized, peaceful order will ultimately win the day, so we trust in that.

It's not a bad thing to say "we're a nation of laws," but please know what it means when you say it. You are saying that you are the kind of person who believes in order and has standards of conduct. And that you'll abide by those standards, even when emotions are high and when it is difficult to do so.

It means more than just upholding the letter of the law. After all, some laws are terrible and need to be changed pronto. It means you believe in a principled, orderly system.

When things are out of order, such as our immigration situation--we ought to take the time to get our laws right and figure out why the system is not working. We ought to reform the system so that it works for everyone. It does not give us license to be barbaric and cruel and force people to abide by laws that clearly violate human dignity. We need to hear from all those involved and find the best, most compassionate solution, all the while respecting the dignity of every person, maintaining order and staying true to our principles.

From a Christian perspective, we take it a step further: Behind those laws are principles, such as respect, ethics, honesty, integrity and compassion. This is where Jesus focused his attention. The law can be a clumsy way to try to live out those principles. So when the law runs roughshod over human dignity (which can certainly happen), we look to the underlying principles behind those laws for true guidance. This is why Jesus can say he "did not come to abolish the Law" but rather to "fulfill it" (Matthew 5:17).

This is what it means to be a "nation of laws."

In closing, if we sat down and talked with immigrants about why many of them are breaking some immigration laws, we may find that they are decent, principled people, as well. Many are caught in an impossible situation and are doing the best they can to provide for their families. We should not use the law to punish them, because doing so would violate our very principles upon which that law is founded!"

One People Living in Two Worlds

Jesus calls his disciples into one people, 

yet immigration concerns remind us how far we have to go to achieve that.

My family and I participated in an interfaith prayer and march for immigrant families last night.

I had some fear when we started out. Were we putting ourselves at risk? What if some random people saw the march and decided to get violent? Events like this are seldom dangerous as they are in fact protected speech in the Constitution. However, tensions are building in this country and threats are rapidly becoming much more common. It's worth pondering whether the rules still apply anymore.

That’s when it dawned on me: We have the luxury of choosing to take a risk or not. We could just as easily have stayed home. Many of our neighbors do not have this choice. They live with risk every day—and much larger risks. Many immigrants, refugees and asylum seekers flee for their lives from life-threatening circumstances only to live here in constant fear of harassment, violence and arrests. Those arrests may be severely punitive and lead to family separation for years while people wallow in detention centers or are deported back to hostile areas.

As it turns out, the vigil was very calm and safe, but we just didn't know that before packing up the car and going. Maybe I was worrying needlessly, but I consider these things differently when my decisions impact my whole family and not just myself.

I think of the other fathers and mothers who pack up their children to make the trek north to the United States. It’s both a risk to stay in their home country and it’s a risk to make the journey. They want to do what's right, they want to do what's legal, but they also have to keep their family as safe as possible. They are caught between the choice of following the human law—which has literally drawn a line in the sand with few legal ways to cross—and their obligation to follow God's law to care for their families.

These are good people faced with no good options, and they make the best choices they can in desperate situations. The choices, and the stakes they are facing, are so different from those of my family. Our risks are small and we can often opt out if we want to.

This is not the kind of discipleship Jesus envisioned. Jesus wanted us to be close to the poor. In fact, he expected it (Mark 14:7). Being close to the poor is where we will find him (Matthew 25:31-46). The New Testament is filled with stories of Jesus reaching out to people who have been marginalized, excluded and demeaned in one way or another, and he is clear that he wants us to follow in his Way.

Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are. (Romans 12:16)

I think back to the interfaith march. We were worried whether the juice in the sippee cup was a cool enough temperature and if we remembered to leave the TV on so the dog doesn't feel lonely. The immigrants we are praying for are worried about how many rapes they may have to endure on the trek north to save their family from an even worse harm. They hope against hope that the days with little to no food will not have a permanent impact on their children.

Jesus calls one people together over and over in Scripture, but it is clear we live in two worlds. There are far too many Christians living a comfortable lifestyle with middle-class means who feel they are in a position to make decisions about the lives of immigrants, refugees and asylum seekers. These Christians have not done one of the most basic requirements of discipleship mandated by Jesus himself:  Being close to the poor, so close that onlookers would think you were one and the same. This march reminds me that I have a long way to go in my discipleship. It reminds me to be humble along the way and not pretend to be an expert on the lives of people who live and work near me but whose lives are sometimes unimaginably different.

Secure Borders in a Christian Context

Image taken from here. 

Jesus commanded us to "love one another." A lot of Christians today talk about having "secure borders" in response to immigrants, refugees and asylum seekers.

Loving one another and having secure borders are not necessarily opposites—but they can be.

Most Christian schools of theology affirm that people have the right to private property. Along with this right comes the notion of having secure borders—whether those are the walls of your private home or the borders of the nation.

However, we can fall into the trap of assuming that the command to love one another and having secure borders are somehow opposites held in tension. It's like we instinctively know that anything that forcefully separates us from our neighbors with locks and armed guards is antithetical to the command to love. But that's only because we don't properly understand "secure borders" in light of the Gospel. They don't have to be opposites when done properly.

Most Christian theology affirms that the right to private property comes with strings attached. It's not open-ended. You have the right to private property so that you can use it for the common good. For example, you can buy a piece of land so you can chop down the trees to make lumber to build a shelter for refugees. Without the right to make decisions about that property, you may not have the agency to fully live out your Christian vocation to "welcome the stranger" (Matthew 25:31-46), for example.

God may respect your freedom to do nothing with that land and lumber while refugees suffer outside in the cold. However, that may be a sin. You certainly have the freedom to sin, but that doesn't make it right.

[I highly recommend Pope John Paul II's Laborum Exercens for a riveting and detailed look at the dignity of work and where I got the ideas of the relation between private property and Christian vocation, especially.]

Americans like to celebrate the notion of freedom. However, Christian freedom is not simply the absence of oppression and restraints. It is the freedom for living out our Christian vocation. In other words, it's not just freedom from a problem, it's the freedom for doing something good. It is in this way that all rights bestowed on us by by Creator are dovetailed with responsibilities. God wants us to have the right to freedom so that we can exercise our responsibility to live out God's commands.

We can have "secure borders" so that we can love one another, offer mercy to refugees and make peace in the world. If the borders do not accomplish that, then they are not of God.

Therefore, all this talk of "secure borders" must be in service to the Greatest Commandment to love one another which Jesus directly tells us should be our chief concern. We can have secure borders not to keep out and abuse vulnerable people but rather to protect people who need to enter for safety. In other words, the purpose of the border is to create a space to allocate resources to help them, not to exclude them. In extreme circumstances the border may be necessary not to exclude refugees but to keep out the ones persecuting them.

Because of the commandment to love, it is our duty to make room for those who are seeking refuge from a long season of running for their lives. Since love if our chief responsibility, the only times we should be talking about exclusions are in very dire, desperate situations. Those may include times when there is simply no room or resources left and when the threat to everyone else is extreme. Obviously we are nowhere near the position to make that claim in the United States:

•     We are the richest nation in the history of human civilization. 
•     We have plenty of open, available land. 
•     We have several decades of experience with undocumented immigrants living in our nation with virtually no national security risk to speak of. Despite the hype, they commit far less violent crime than even native-born citizens.

As you can see from the above list, it is hard (if not downright impossible) for a Christian to justify exclusion at this point in history based on Gospel values.

Besides, a "secure border" does not mean we keep everyone out. It means we reform our immigration system so that people can smoothly come in and out as they need without interference from the government. Part of the reason our border now is insecure is because our current immigration system is too rigid and hostile and fails to respond to current economic and human needs.

But what happens if our secure borders interfere with our ability to love one another and care for the common good? If loving one another and having secure borders ever become opposites, then the Christian responsibility to follow Jesus's Greatest Commandment must come first, as it has a significantly greater standing than the right to have borders. Yes, the Christian tradition affirms the right secure borders, but that right is never absolute and is always secondary to the dignity of the human person, the common good and our exercise of Jesus's Greatest Commandment to love one another.

So what do we do?

Let them in! Offer a warm welcome. And help them get started building and rebuilding their lives here in the U.S.