god's abundance is for all-together: 11th sunday after pentecost

the holy gospel according to luke the 12^th chapter.  glory to you, o lord.

¹³Someone in the crowd said to [Jesus],

       “Teacher,

              tell my brother

                     to divide the family inheritance with me.”

¹⁴But he said to him,

       “Friend,

              who set me to be a judge or arbitrator

                     over you?”

¹⁵And he said to them,

       “Take care!

       Be on your guard against all kinds of greed;

              for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.”

¹⁶Then he told them a parable:

       “The land of a rich man produced abundantly.

              ¹⁷And he thought to himself,

                     ‘What should I do,

                            for I have no place to store my crops?’

              ¹⁸Then he said,

                     ‘I will do this:

                            I will pull down my barns

                            and build larger ones,

                            and there I will store all my grain and my goods.

              ¹⁹And I will say to my soul,

                     ‘Soul,

                            you have ample goods laid up for many years;

                            relax,

                            eat,

                            drink,

                            be merry.’

              ²⁰But God said to him,

                     ‘You fool!

                            This very night

                                   your life is being demanded of you.

                            And the things you have prepared,

                                   whose will they be?’

       ²¹So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves

              but are not rich toward God.”

the gospel of the lord.  praise to you, o christ.

-----

a man is successful.  his land grows more than enough crops and he has nowhere to stockpile the extra harvest.  so, what does he do?  well he doesn’t seek out the advice or guidance of friends and family.  in fact, he doesn’t seem to consult anyone but his own soul as to what to do.  

in a 5-verse parable, he refers only to himself and he does it 13 times! 

in jesus’ time, there were many, many people barely scraping by—or even dying of starvation, because they didn’t have the same access to resources and land that provides abundantly.  so those hearing the parable would be abundantly familiar with: scarcity and with landowners like the one in the parable.  yet, this man never considers them. 

god is the creator of all goodness and life—the one to credit for the harvest, since jesus makes clear that it was the land who provided an abundant harvest, not the man’s farming skills.  god’s appearance must have come as a big surprise then to the man, since he didn’t even thank god for the harvest—let alone giving some of it back to god.

to be clear, some people have more money, more opportunity, more resources than others.  that is the way this world works right now.  it doesn’t make them inherently bad or foolish, nor does it make them inherently good or wise.  what matters and what makes a difference is what happens next. 

this rich man puts his life, his soul into building bigger and better storage areas.  he builds and he builds and when he finally has the large storage facilities he wants, god shows up.  what does god have to say?  “those things into which you have poured your soul are now requiring your soul.”

this man put all his efforts into storing up more and more for himself, without care or concern for his neighbors—without care or concern for the marginalized and impoverished in his community—without care or concern for god who is the creator and source of all things—even this man’s abundant crops.  his sole care and concern is for himself.  he puts so much of himself into these material things that those same material things demand his soul—his life—his being.

he begins the exchange of his life for material gain with a seemingly simple idea for how to keep more of his crop and slowly but surely that selfish concern—that fear of not having enough—that theology of scarcity—consumes him, so that there is nothing to do but inform him that his soul is being demanded of him and it has gotten to the point where there is nothing he can do about it.

rather than trusting that god will continue to abundantly provide for him, the rich man is like the israelites in the desert who tried in vain to save manna only to find it spoiled the next day.  he tries to hoard what he has, unwilling to share or to extend the generosity he first received from god.

we too live in a culture bound up in the sin of materialism.  we always seem to “need” more, bigger, and better things.  we can all fall victim to it in different ways, whether it’s always buying the newest book or dvd, the best technology, the biggest car, or the brightest toy. 

materialism is a problem, made all the more real to me of late as i begin to repack my whole material life up to move back to chicago in two weeks.  materialism is intricately linked with a theology of scarcity.  there is never enough, and what we have is never good enough, so we always “need” bigger and better.  the two go hand in hand.

this theology of scarcity consumes the man in jesus’ parable.  he has plenty and is equipped with more than enough for what he needs, but when he encounters abundance, as the land produces abundantly, he forgoes trust that god provides abundantly, he forgets anyone but himself, and, motivated by a theology of scarcity, he decides that he must build a bigger, better building to accommodate and keep all his grain and crops for himself—for later, for the future.  and once he has finished, the greek states that they—the possessions, the new building-barn—demand his soul—they consume him.

like it or not, he is a part of community.  we all are a part of community.  we are all connected.  what affects one, affects us all and what you do and how you do it affects more than just yourself.  while this man may have only thought of himself, his actions still affected others.  martin luther would call this inward focus “incurvatus in se” or, being curved in on oneself—navel-gazing.  it is typical of many people, and it is luther’s interpretation of the original sin that plagues humanity.  this inward focus can put up blinders to the rest of creation, but it doesn’t stop the inwardly focused person from affecting the rest of creation.  it informs how we understand and process everything from money to relationships to care of creation. 

how do you as an individual think about what you have and what you’re going to do with it?  with the money, resources, and opportunities that you have, do you, as martin luther would say, curve in on yourself—thinking, like this man, only of yourself?  or do you open outward, like a flower in bloom, to focus on your source—your creator—and on those around you?

how do we as a congregation think about what we have and what we’re going to do with it?  are we concerned only with what’s within these walls and the goings on inside this building or do we lift our eyes?  when we as individuals and as a faith community tithe, or give money to the church, we refute the materialistic claim of our culture that our value is in what we possess and we look upward to god. 

we refute the man in today’s parable who trusts and invests in the material things that end up consuming him.

when we make god a priority in our lives, trusting in god’s abundance and god’s economy, we refute the theology of scarcity that rules this world, trusting that in god there is enough and more than enough.  when we trust that god will provide for the ministries god calls us to, we are able to be bold and take risks to follow where god is calling us.  and in this way we lift our eyes from being curved in on ourselves—concerned only for us—to focusing upward toward god, and outward toward our neighbor.

this week i was privileged to join with low-wage workers and faith leaders from across the kansas city metro area to stand up to employers who operate out of a theology of scarcity—unwilling to pay a living wage to their employees.  i couldn’t help but recall this parable with the rich man thinking only of himself.  

together low wage workers, faith leaders, and community members entered into the parable, interrupting the rich man’s self-focused thoughts to show him another way—to tell him that all people need to live and eat.  and the grain he is unwilling to share would go to good use with these workers, who continue to work up to 4 jobs just to make ends meet!

we stood up together against the rich man of our culture, the corporations, those who have curved in on themselves.  we asked him to consider others beside himself.  we stood up and said that there is enough for all people to earn a living wage—that we all deserve human and economic dignity—that we are a part of community.

last week jesus taught his disciples the lord’s prayer.  each week when we worship together, we pray together, “give us today our daily bread.”  as we join together, we are brought into community.  we pray not for my daily bread or my salvation, but for our daily bread—that together we might all have enough, we might all be saved, we might all—together—experience god’s abundance.  and god does provide.  for you and for me and for all of god’s beloved children, if only we are able to lift our eyes upward and outward to share in god’s goodness.

amen.

sólo una cosa es necesaria: noveno domingo después de pentecostés

santo evangelio de nuestro señor jesucristo según san lucas. ¡gloria a ti, cristo señor!

Jesús siguió su camino

       y llegó a una aldea,

              donde una mujer llamada Marta lo hospedó.

Marta tenía una hermana llamada María,

       la cual se sentó a los pies de Jesús

              para escuchar lo que él decía.

Pero Marta,

       que estaba atareada con sus muchos quehaceres,

       se acercó a Jesús y le dijo:

              —Señor,

                     ¿no te preocupa nada que mi hermana me deje sola

                            con todo el trabajo?

                     Dile que me ayude.

Pero Jesús le contestó:

        —Marta, Marta,

              estás preocupada

              y te inquietas por demasiadas cosas,

                     pero sólo una cosa es necesaria.

       María ha escogido la mejor parte,

              y nadie se la va a quitar.

el evangelio del señor.

te alabamos, cristo señor.

-----

hoy es el día.  es el honor de tu vida.  tu maestro y amigo viene de visita!  tú le invitaste a él y dijo que sí.  ahora tienes que preparar la casa.  limpias todos los cuartos, arreglas todas las cosas adentro y afuera.  te vistes de ropa buena.  y cocinas una abundancia de comida – un banquete.  todo el día trabajas.

de repente—aquí está!  todavía tienes muchos quehaceres, entonces le das un bienvenido y lo dejes en la sala de estar.  sigues preparando la casa y la comida, cuando te da cuenta de que tu hermana paró en ayudarte.  ya no te ayuda con los quehaceres.  en vez de ayudarte, ella se sienta a los pies de jesús y no hace nada.

¡no es posible!  necesitas su ayuda con todos los quehaceres!  ¿por qué piensa ella que puede dejar todo para ti?  y le dices precisamente esto a jesús para que él le diga a ella que te ayude.

pero él te dice que no.  no va a decirle que tiene que ayudarte.  pero todo que hiciste fue precisamente para él!  preparando, limpiando, arreglando—todo!  entiende que todo que hiciste es para él, pero dice que ahora que está aquí, es más importante estar con él que siga preparando para él. 

sólo una cosa es necesaria. y es sentarse y escuchar a jesús—ser presente con él.  la casa está bien, la comida será bien y jesús sólo estará aquí poco tiempo más.  tú le invitaste a él, él te dijo a ti que sí, claro.  quiere pasar tiempo junto contigo, no simplemente en tu hogar.

estás distraída y sólo una cosa es necesaria: prestar atención a jesús.  tienes tiempo para las otras cosas, pero sin prestar atención a jesús, nada tiene sentido.  la comida sin huésped es una pérdida.  una casa limpia sin gente para llenarla no tiene ninguna función.  estás aquí para ser con jesús.

nosotrxs estamos aquí en la iglesia de san pablo también para ser con jesús.

cuando preparo para los domingos, es muy fácil ser distraída por cómo hacer la liturgia, cómo cantar, para qué orar, cómo predicar,                         y a veces se me olvida que sólo una cosa es necesaria.  cuando vengo aquí a la iglesia san pablo, puede ser una lucha para mi ser presente durante la misa porque en la iglesia immanuel, hacemos algunas cosas de manera distinta, entonces tengo que acostumbrarme a como las haremos aquí.  significa que por mi parte, tengo que admitir que no haré todas mis partes precisamente como “hay que” hacerlas, pero los haré lo mejor posible cuando todavía adoro a dios. 

yo tengo que recordar que yo estoy aquí para adorar a dios.  es difícil y—como marta—a veces se me olvida por qué estoy aquí.  pero en todo esto, la verdad es que sólo una cosa es necesario.

estamos aquí para adorar a dios.  estamos aquí para oír la buena noticia que por la gracia y el amor de dios, nuestros pecados son perdonados.  estamos aquí para recibir la gracia de dios en el pan y en el vino – la santa comunión – el cuerpo de cristo y la sangre de cristo dado por cada una y cada uno de nosotrxs.

cantamos y oremos y tenemos velas y recibimos la ofrenda.  y todas estas cosas son buenas e importantes, pero cuando somos distraidxs por esas cosas no podemos enfocarnos en recibir la gracia de dios o en darle gracias a dios por su amor y por nuestras vidas.  cuando somos distraídxs, faltamos la única cosa más importante en la misa – jesucristo nuestro señor.

cuando yo estaba en la universidad, trabajé coordinando la gente que voluntó para la misa cada domingo.  ellxs llegaron temprano y revisamos todo que tuvimos que hacer durante la misa y como hacerlo.  al fin, cada semana, les dije a lxs voluntarixs, “recuerdense que estamos aquí para adorar.  tenemos cosas especificas para hacer, pero si los hacemos de manera incorecta, está bien, por que dios todavía nos ama y es más importante adorar a dios que hacerlo precisamente perfecto.”

es lo mismo con cada unx de nosotros, cuando reunimos, nunca es perfecto, pero siempre está jesús con nosotrxs.  siempre recibimos la gracia y el amor de dios.

cuando estamos en la iglesia, es muy fácil olvidar por qué estamos aquí.  al preparar para predicar hoy, se me olvidó como se dice la palabra “worship” en español.  cuando lo busqué y lo traduje, me di cuenta de que adorar y adoración son palabras perfectas!  cuando reunimos aquí los domingos, reunimos para adorar a dios.  todo que hacemos aquí es para dios.

la semana pasada oímos sobre el hombre de samaria y al principio el maestro de la ley pregunta ¿qué necesito hacer para alcanzar la vida eterna? y jesús le responde con la pregunta ¿qué está escrito en la ley?  él le contesta, "ama al señor tu dios con todo tu corazón, con toda tu alma, con todas tus fuerzas y con toda tu mente y ama a tu prójimo como a ti mismo."

los domingos esto es precisamente lo que hacemos.

reunimos con nuestros cuerpos y recibimos la santa comunión, amamos a dios con todas nuestras fuerzas; 

adoramos con oraciones, amamos a dios con todos nuestros corazones; 

oímos lecturas, amamos a dios con todas nuestras mentes; 

y siendo presente, amamos a dios con todas nuestras almas.   

y cuando recibimos la ofrenda, amamos a dios y también a nuestrxs prójimxs porque el dinero va a ayudar a la iglesia y el programa que da comida a gente que la necesita.

estamos aquí para adorar a dios y lo adoramos mejor cuando no estamos distraídxs por nada.  cuando no enfocamos demasiado en doblar a la derecha o a la izquierda empezar enfrente o detrás—podemos enfocarnos en cómo lo que hacemos da gloria a dios, cómo demostramos el amor de dios, reflejándolo a dios y a nuestrxs prójimxs.  cuando esto es nuestra tarea, nuestro enfoque, no hay que preocuparse demasiado por el resto.

who is the samaritan?: 8th sunday after pentecost

the holy gospel according to st. luke the 10^th chapter.  glory to you, o lord.

²⁵Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus.

       “Teacher,” he said,

              “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

²⁶He said to him,

       “What is written in the law?

       What do you read there?”

²⁷He answered,

       “You shall love the Lord your God

              with all your heart,

              and with all your soul,

              and with all your strength,

              and with all your mind;

       and your neighbor as yourself.”

²⁸And he said to him,

       “You have given the right answer;

              do this, and you will live.”

²⁹But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus,

       “And who is my neighbor?”

³⁰Jesus replied,

       “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho,

       and fell into the hands of robbers,

              who stripped him,

              beat him,

              and went away,

              leaving him half dead.

       ³¹Now by chance a priest was going down that road;

       and when he saw him,

              he passed by on the other side.

       ³²So likewise a Levite,

       when he came to the place and saw him,

              passed by on the other side.

       ³³But a Samaritan while traveling

       came near him;

       and when he saw him,

              he was moved with pity.

                     ³⁴He went to him and bandaged his wounds,

                            having poured oil and wine on them.

                     Then he put him on his own animal,

                     brought him to an inn,

                     and took care of him.

              ³⁵The next day he took out two denarii,

                     gave them to the innkeeper, and said,

                            ‘Take care of him;

                            and when I come back,

                                   I will repay you whatever more you spend.’

       ³⁶Which of these three, do you think,

              was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?”

³⁷He said,

       “The one who showed him mercy.”

Jesus said to him,

       “Go and do likewise.”

the gospel of the lord.  praise to you, o christ.

-----

i have a confession.                                       

i’m not sure i really want god’s reign to come near.  i’m not sure i want god’s love to infuse every part of my life.  there are some people that i’d rather just not like.  i don’t want my enemies to become neighbors.  i’m not sure i want my prejudices and pettiness flipped on their head.  i really want to be able to look down on who i look down on.  i don’t want to be vulnerable with others—especially with those i don’t like, maybe even despise.

and i really want to be justified in doing just that.  i want to pick my neighbor and even if i can’t, i really don’t want jesus to pick them, because you know if jesus is picking, there’s going to be at least a few i don’t want. 

sometimes i think that lawyer has got to actually be me.

because the lawyer comes to jesus and in an attempt to prove himself and to test jesus, he asks who his neighbor is—whom does he have to love?  in typical jesus fashion, jesus doesn’t answer the man’s question about whom he has to love, instead he tells a story about what the reign of god means for how we love and are loved.

a man, presumably a jew like the crowd gathered, or if jesus were telling us the story, a christian, perhaps a christian in the united states for many of us—someone who is like us.  this person is robbed and beaten and left half-dead.  the priest—a religious leader—passes by, then a levite passes by.  now the crowd, following this pattern, doesn’t mind the priest and levite being the “wrong” ones in the story—they don’t really seem to see eye to eye with jesus, and they’re not always the most compassionate anyway, trying so hard to follow all those laws.

besides, according to the established pattern, the next one to come is the one to help and that one should be             a regular jew. 

that’s how the storytelling pattern goes at least: first the priest, then a bit lower: the levite, then a bit lower: the average jew.

¿but what happens, when instead of the average jew or christian walking by—as the crowd listening to jesus expects—it’s the enemy of the people? 

you see, in those days, samaritans and jews didn’t simply not get along, they despised each other.  both were descendents of sarah and abraham and believed they worshiped the one true god.  centuries of mutual dislike and separation resulted in the samaritans and the jews despising each other—wanting nothing to do with the other.  jews went out of their way to avoid encountering samaritans, including taking the long way around samaria when traveling.  never in a million years would they befriend each other.

and that’s who shows up.

the one person or type of person that you never expect or want to show up                         

and that’s all you get for help.  

as a hearer of jesus’ story, you go from thinking of yourself as the next one who will come by and will help, to being left wondering who you are supposed to be in the story? 

and then it becomes clear: perhaps, you are the one who was robbed and left half-dead on the road to jericho.  it’s either that or the robbers and i’m pretty sure you don’t want to be them.

so what do you do or think as the religious leaders of the time—ordained and lay—see you and pass by on the other side? 

and then, your worst enemy comes near and through your delirium you know that you must be a goner, because surely they will not help you                                     

when all of a sudden you feel gentle hands holding you, cleaning you, binding your wounds,   

saving you.   

this person you despise.  this person you prefer to never interact with—maybe even this person you are afraid of; is moved deep in their gut with pity.              for you.

the kindness and care of this person you have been trained to hate, to avoid.  even if you were to try and resist their help, you are too weak to put up any sort of fight, and you know you need their help or you really will die, so you go limp, you let them care for you.

but what must that do to you?  one whom you have despised or avoided on principle all your life has now been more gracious and merciful to you than your own kin. 

but that is what god’s reign is all about. 

it’s about the conventions we are raised with, the prejudices and preferential treatments being flipped on their head.  it’s trayvon martin seeing george zimmerman lying in a ditch half-dead and stopping, moved with pity.

just as jesus says that we must love him so much that even the love we have for our family is like hatred in comparison to our love for jesus, that is the power of the reign of god come near: that our familial love pales in comparison to love of god and our hatred of our enemy transforms into service and gut-wrenching compassion—pity that moves us so deep down in our gut.

the thing about the samaritan is not just that he does good and not just that he’s considered the enemy, but that the reign of god means that it’s our enemies who care for us and who we care for.  what would have happened if instead of calling trayvon martin a punk and going after him that night, george zimmerman had just offered him a ride?

jesus’ story begs two questions.  first: “who is our samaritan—that person with whom we’d rather never have to interact—who we despise?”

and also, “to whom are we the samaritan?  who would rather not have us around?  who would rather we just stayed away—out of their lives?”  whether this is religious, national, racial, gender, or personal biases,

from whom are we outcasts?

and how can we care for them?  how can we draw near to them, clean them, bandage their wounds, provide them with shelter and comfort and food?  what would it take for you or me to be that samaritan we call “good” to those who view us as samaritans?

and yes, this drives me crazy, because it means that if i ever encounter george zimmerman or a gun lobbyist or even fred phelps lying in a ditch half-dead, i will not stand my ground; i will not cross over to the other side and pass by, but instead my gut will be moved with pity and i will do mercy.  and what’s worse: if i am lying in a ditch half-dead, god’s reign is such that i will probably end up having one of them walk by and be moved with pity.

now don’t get me wrong.  this does not mean that i will support or encourage them in what they are doing and have done, but it does mean that i will do mercy.

this story of the samaritan is much loved and well-known.  countless churches, counseling centers and hospitals are named for it.  there’s even a law bearing its name.  this story is vital to understanding the reign of god come near. 

because god’s reign is about love of neighbor and more than that, it’s the humanizing love of neighbor that calls someone so despised and feared and dehumanized, a young black man like trayvon martin, perhaps, not only “good,” but also neighbor.

it flips our rules about who is in and out; who we like and who we don’t like, who has a right to live and who doesn’t. 

god’s reign means that love for family doesn’t hold up to love for god and god’s reign means that enemies are the ones who do mercy—they enact neighborliness.

that is how we come to know god’s love.   jesus pours out his love and grace on the cross and again and again it is poured out in the waters of baptism, not to save us individually, but instead it is our corporate salvation.  god’s love in jesus makes us all one body, one family, one being with one purpose.

last week, pastor jennifer pointed out that we are christ’s body in the world.  and not only are ours christ’s feet and hands as we interact with the rest of the world, but also with each other—together we are the body of christ—adjoining cells, fingers, toes, and eyelashes. 

we are the body of christ together in this world and what affects one of us affects us all.  because, as frederick douglass said, “where justice is denied, where poverty is enforced, where ignorance prevails, and where any one class is made to feel that society is an organized conspiracy to oppress, rob and degrade them, neither persons nor property will be safe.”

what harms you harms us all.

when anyone is beaten and left half-dead we all lay in the ditch with them.  when anyone walks by we all feel the pain of rejection.  and when that one, however surprising, unexpected, or even unwanted; when that one is moved deep in the gut with pity, we all are moved with pity for that one and join together to do mercy.

amen.

jesus the migrant: 6th sunday after pentecost

[today was our first attempt towards a bilingual (spanish-english) service at immanuel]

the other reading i reference is galatians 5:1,13-25

 

el santo evangelio de nuestro señor jesucristo, según san lucas.  gloria a ti, cristo señor.

⁵¹When the days drew near

       for [Jesus] to be taken up,

              he set his face to go to Jerusalem.

              ⁵²And he sent messengers ahead of him.

                     On their way they entered a village of the Samaritans

                            to make ready for him;

                            ⁵³but they did not receive him,

              because his face was set toward Jerusalem.

⁵⁴When his disciples James and John saw it,

       they said,

              “Lord, do you want us to command fire

                     to come down from heaven and consume them?”

                            ⁵⁵But he turned and rebuked them.

⁵⁶Then they went on to another village.

⁵⁷As they were going along the road,

       someone said to him,

              “I will follow you wherever you go.”

⁵⁸And Jesus said to him,

        “Foxes have holes,

       and birds of the air have nests;

              but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”

⁵⁹To another he said,

       “Follow me.”

But he said,

       “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.”

⁶⁰But Jesus said to him,

       “Let the dead bury their own dead;

              but as for you,

                     go and proclaim the kingdom of God.”

⁶¹Another said,

       “I will follow you, Lord;

              but let me first say farewell to those at my home.”

⁶²Jesus said to him,

       “No one who puts a hand to the plow

              and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”

el evangelio del señor.  te alabamos, cristo señor.

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in today’s reading we encounter jesus as he “sets his face to go to jerusalem.”  from here on out, luke takes us with jesus toward the cross.  this is clear in the reading as all jesus seems to be doing is traveling—migrating.  the specific towns or villages along the way do not much seem to matter.  what matters is that he is moving, migrating, journeying—always toward jerusalem—toward death and new life.

this pattern of migrating—of journeying—should come as no surprise to those of us familiar with the ancestors in the faith found throughout the bible, and throughout our own history.  most of us can trace our personal ancestry back to immigrants, whether in recent generations including ourselves or before the united states became a country.  westport rd. is also part of the oregon, santa fe, and california trails heading “to the west.”  the bible is also full of migrants.  from eve and adam journeying away from the garden of eden to sarah, abraham, and hagar traveling to and from egypt and throughout mesopotamia on a promise from god, down to jesus—descendent of a wandering aramean and a wanderer himself.

nowadays in this global world, it is easy for those of us from the united states with enough money to journey to other countries, to cross borders.  many of us do it each year—for vacation or for business.

other beloved children of god travel out of necessity, for opportunity.  many, like jesus, know the danger that lies ahead.  they have set their face to go and they are going even if it means torture or death.  others, like the disciples, might have a vague idea about the danger of crossing borders, but because of the danger and lack of opportunity at home it doesn’t really matter, and it doesn’t really hit them until they are in the midst of those dangers.  for folks who travel out of necessity: though there is danger on the way, they also trust that there is new life to be found on the other side.

as i ended my third year of college in decorah, ia in may of 2008, us immigration and customs enforcement or ice conducted what was, at the time, the largest immigration raid in us history in the nearby town of postville.  they rounded up so many beloved children of god that the only place they could think to put them was, like cattle at a nearby fair grounds. 

the government came into this small community of postville, ia, a self-identified “hometown to the world” where people from many cultures and religions were learning how to be a community, and the government caused chaos and panic.  children, coming home from school had no idea where their parents were and the next day ½ of the students didn’t return to school.

beloved children of god were working hard in poor and at times abusive conditions at the local slaughterhouse and meat-packing plant.  they were supporting and providing opportunity for their families one day, and were taken away the next.  they were treated as if their whole being was illegal.  even the courts later ruled their treatment inhumane—illegal.  they were treated like the animals killed and processed where they work.  their humanity was lost.

during the following fall, i spent time each week with some of the women who were fighting deportation in the courts.  they wore a shackle around their ankle, tracking their every move, and had to sit still for 2 hours a day to charge it.  they needed to support their families and so were released from detention on “humanitarian grounds” and yet were not allowed to work to provide for those same families.

i met with these women and officially we worked on learning more english and navigating us customs and bill-paying.  in reality, we talked about whatever they wanted or needed to talk about and i learned from them.  these women who had survived not only the journey over walls, under fences, through the water and through the desert to cross borders for themselves and their families, but who had also survived the terror of the immigration raid.  in the time i spent with them, i learned of the struggles they faced in the countries they came from and the trust and hope they had for their lives in the united states. 

some people refer to these beloved children of god as “illegals” and yet as i have waited and prayed with the world as nelson mandela continues to struggle for his life, i came across a quote in which mandela said, “when a [person] is denied the right to live the life [they believe] in, [they have] no choice but to become an outlaw.” 

these beloved children of god are fighting for their lives and the lives and futures of their children and in that fight, they saw as their only option migration to a country that promises hope, freedom, and a future.

these women have stronger faith than i can imagine in a god who loves them and who tells them and us in jeremiah [29:11], “for surely i know the plans i have for you, says the lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.”

these women had long ago set their faces to go to jerusalem.  they know intimately what it means when “foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but they, with jesus, have nowhere to lay their head.”  they know the pain and the danger of migrating and yet they have a hope inside them that there is a way to provide for their families.  that this country is actually a country of hope and freedom, that if we work hard enough we might actually be able to succeed, or at least scrape by.  that they can contribute to the good of this country and of their communities.

we call this country the land of the free.  we pride ourselves on the freedoms and rights we guarantee to those within our borders and yet we must ask ourselves what kind of freedom it is.

paul states that “for freedom christ has set us free.”  we are free not for self-indulgence, but that “through love [we might] become slaves to one another.” 

christ frees us to “love our neighbor as ourselves.”

christ frees us and calls us forward to witness to that freedom—witnessing by the fruit of the spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.   christ calls us in freedom to love the stranger and neighbor among us; to love, serve, and learn from the one who disagrees with us; to love, serve, and learn from the one who speaks another language, the one from another place, even the one others call illegal.

as followers of christ, we are called to journey together—strangers together in a strange land.  we journey together and are freed in christ.  in our journey together we come to know each other and strangers become neighbors.  we begin to see each other as beloved children of god. 

and in this way christ empowers us to free everyone from the oppression they face. “for,” as nelson mandela states, “to be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.”  christ frees and empowers us to recognize all people—native, migrant, resident, and citizen—as beloved children of god.