In May, I traveled to Tucson, Arizona with a group of seminarians to learn firsthand about the realities of immigration and human rights along the US/Mexico border. We spent 10 days along the border, meeting with undocumented immigrants, Border Patrol agents, immigration lawyers, human rights activists, pastors, and ordinary people whose lives are tied up in the messy and complicated world of migration and survival. In August, I had the pleasure of serving my congregation, Stone Church of the Brethren, as a sabbatical coverage minister, and on August 9, I organized that morning’s worship around these issues. The two scripture lessons were taken from Ruth 1:1-19 and Matthew 2:13-23. My sermon title was “Stories of Crossing Borders,” and I wanted to share it here:
As you can tell, our theme for this worship has been focused on crossing borders, migration, and the issues of peace and justice that are tied up in these realities. Lately the headlines that we read and the rhetoric that we hear insists on the dangers of the so-called “immigration problem.” Groups of people, almost always Latinos and other dark-skinned people, are lumped together under the category of suspicious, foreign, and threatening, protestors hold up signs reading “Go back home!,” and politicians convince hard-working Americans that the Mexicans are out to take our jobs. This morning instead of buying into the fear-based political platform of anti-immigration policies, I want to skip past the generalizations and broad strokes. I want to share true stories about individuals whose lives are right in the thick of this hot button issue. We’ve already read two significant stories of migration found in the pages of our faith’s history, one from the Old Testament or Hebrew Bible, our shared scriptures with the Jewish people, and another from our own scriptures, the New Testament. This morning I want to share two other true stories of immigration that will hopefully bring to light the complexities and realities along the United States’ southern border. And perhaps we’ll see some parallels between these modern stories and our biblical stories.
First, I want to tell you about a woman named Rosa Robles Loreto. Rosa lives in Tucson, Arizona and has lived there for 16 years. She is a wife and a mother of two young boys. She is active in her community and volunteers at her church, in her son’s school, and with her son’s baseball teams. In 2011 Rosa was pulled over for a minor traffic violation. When the officer discovered she did not have the proper paperwork to live and work in the United States, the Border Patrol was called and she was placed in a detention facility for 53 days. She fought her immigration case through the courts but it did nothing. You see, the thing about Rosa is that in the eyes of Immigration and Customs Enforcement, she is not a high-priority deportation case. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, or ICE, prioritizes undocumented persons with violent crimes, drug offenses, and criminal histories. These are the persons that ICE is told to focus their energy and resources on deporting. But Rosa has no criminal history, is the mother of two minors, and has good standing within her community, therefore the federal government has classified individuals like her as the lowest priority for deportation. But because her lawyer did not file the right paperwork at the right time, Rosa now has an order of deportation hanging over her head and is not safe to move and work freely in her own community of Tucson. In August of 2014 Rosa entered into sanctuary with the Southside Presbyterian Church in Tucson. While in sanctuary, Rosa is safe from being deported and torn apart from her family but she is restricted to live within the walls of the church building. This past Friday, August 7, two days ago, marked the one-year anniversary of Rosa’s sanctuary. Until her deportation order is dropped, Rosa will remain in sanctuary.
Rosa’s story reminds me of Ruth and Naomi’s story. Like Naomi, Rosa traveled to a new country with her two sons and husband to find a living. Naomi loses her husband and her sons, the only true safety net for a woman of that time, and especially for a woman in a foreign land. Although Rosa has not lost her husband and sons, she has lost her safety and security when she fears that at any moment she could be forcibly removed from her family and her community. When Ruth declares her intention to remain with Naomi and return with her to Bethlehem, Naomi is blessed by this show of loyalty and commitment that ensures she is not alone in this world. By taking refuge at Southside Presbyterian Church, Rosa is blessed with a network of support, loyalty, and safety that ensures she is not separated from her family.
So in our first biblical story, the the tables are turned: years ago Naomi followed her family to the foreign land of Moab in search of survival, and now Ruth follows the only person who is left of her family to the foreign land of Judah. One border crossing was for survival, the other was for loyalty and commitment. Eventually, we learn that Ruth finds a husband in Bethlehem, and this woman, this stranger in a strange land, gives birth to a son who will become the grandfather of King David himself.
Our second contemporary story this morning is perhaps the most difficult to hear. Just a warning that it does involve violence and the threat of violence. When I traveled to Tucson, Arizona with a cohort of seminary students in June, we took an afternoon to cross the border into Mexico, into a town called Nogales, in the state of Sonora. Just yards from the Port of Entry you can find an organization called the Kino Border Initiative which operates a soup kitchen, or comedor, for migrants. In addition to providing 2 meals a day, this initiative run by Jesuit nuns also provides medical care, clothing, and advice for those travelers. Of the men and women that drop by KBI for food or other needs, about 90% of them have already crossed the border into the US illegally, been caught, detained, and deported back into Nogales, but most of them plan to attempt the journey again.
That day after helping to scoop second helpings of rice onto plastic plates for the hungry men to eat, I sat down next to some of my classmates who were in deep conversation with a few of the migrants. One of the men was young, hardly a man really. He was an 18 year old boy who shared his story with us. After he was caught illegally smuggling marijuana across the Sonoran desert, he had been arrested by US Border Patrol and deported to Nogales. But this 18 year old was not a drug lord making money from this operation. He had been picked up by mafia in one of the Mexican border towns and threatened into carrying a 40lb bale of weed, held up by straps that rested on his shoulders, into the United States. If he refused, or if he got caught, or if he dropped off the drugs and didn’t get the money back to the drug lords… they would cut off his head. Sadly, his story is not uncommon. Many unsuspecting young men and boys are sought out by drug lords, kidnapped, and coerced into smuggling illegal drugs against their will. Some are told that their hands will be chopped off, or that their families will be killed if they refuse. When asked if he was going to try to do it again, the 18 year old in the comedor in Nogales told us, with his shoulders bleeding from the straps he had carried and with a hint of fear in his voice, “I have no other choice.”
I do not know his name, but I will never forget this young man’s story. Was he doing something illegal? Yes. His actions, illegally smuggling drugs across the US/Mexico border, are exactly the kinds of things that our politicians and pundits roar and rage about… the dangers of illegal immigrants, criminals infiltrating our borders, and infecting our society with drugs and other dangerous substances. But when I sat next to this young man and heard his story, understood his situation, and imagined if I were in his shoes… I didn’t see a threat to our country, I saw a person who was taken advantage of, who lived in fear, and who felt trapped by his circumstances. Perhaps he would cross the border again… and perhaps he would not get caught by the Border Patrol but instead find a way to survive and thrive in a country where his life was not at risk. I hope so.
In this boy’s story, I see Jesus’ story. Before this comparison makes you feel uncomfortable, remember what Jesus said in Matthew 25: we are to see the face of Jesus in the faces of the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, and the imprisoned. It is not a stretch to see Jesus in the life of this 18 year old.
In our second biblical story, the holy family migrates not to find better living conditions, food, and water, like Noami’s family, but rather to escape real oppression and danger. The members of the holy family are political refugees, fleeing persecution from their government and fearing for their lives. This is so significant yet we often forget that the child Jesus, the one we worship and commit to following, crossed national borders to find freedom and liberation from oppression.
Like the infant Jesus with his family, this young man’s life was threatened by those with power and he was in real danger. Both the holy family and this man crossed borders hoping that the journey would provide safety and ultimately a way out.
However the comparisons do end there…Jesus and his family were eventually able to return home without fear of harm, whereas our 18 year old has no such relief. He must make the dangerous journey again, crossing the border between two worlds where he remains fearful of the Border Patrol on one side, and fearful for his life on the other.
There is so much more that we could say this morning on this theme of immigration and crossing borders. It was challenging enough for me to only share the stories that I did… because during our time in the Arizonan cities of Tucson and Douglass, and the Mexican cities of Nogales and Agua Prieta, we heard so many more stories from undocumented immigrants, church leaders, immigration lawyers, Border Patrol agents, and volunteers that highlighted the complexities and nuances of the realities along our country’s border with Mexico.
But one thing is clear: our faith’s history as recounted in the pages of the Old and New Testament is filled with accounts of migration. Beyond the stories we read today, we remember Abraham and Sarah leaving the land of Ur to resettle and start their family in the land of Canaan, the Israelites liberation from slavery in Egypt by following God through the wilderness for 40 years, the nation of Judah forced into exile in Babylon and rediscovering and reinventing their faith far from their homeland, the nomadic ministry of Jesus as he traveled throughout Palestine healing and teaching, the early apostles moving throughout the Mediterranean and Near East spreading the Good News of new life and the restoration of all creation…. migration and crossing borders is not a new phenomenon, especially not to those who study the Bible.
Even more importantly, the theme of hospitality and kindness to strangers accompanies these stories throughout our scriptures. The Hebrew scriptures have many books devoted to complicated laws about every part of life, and as Christians we often skim over books like Leviticus and Deuteronomy, but throughout these pages one of the most consistent commandments that God gives the people is this: Love the stranger in your midst. Care for the foreigner. Treat the alien like one of your own. And what is God’s reason? Because you were once the foreigner too. We were once the stranger too. In Canaan, in Egypt, in Babylon. In Jerusalem, in Rome. In the United States. Perhaps in Huntingdon, or in Stone Church. Somewhere, sometime, we and our families and our faith communities were strangers, crossing a border into a place, a situation that was unknown.
The current United States policies surrounding immigration are enough to make your head spin. We don’t have the time this morning to go into detail about the trade agreements of the 90s that led to such dire economic conditions in counties like Guatemala and Mexico, how the wait time for proper documentation in the United States can sometimes take decades, how many federal environmental laws were waived in order to build the wall along our southwest border (over 30, by the way), and what daily life is like for those individuals and families who live and work in our country without papers but not without a desire for them.
This morning was just a small piece of this large, complex puzzle. But I believe that retelling biblical stories about migration and crossing borders and hearing other modern-day stories for the first time can be the first step towards compassion and kindness. The next step is to ask questions, to do some research, to pay attention to the topic of immigration when it arises, especially on the national scale. Our shared history and connections with our Jewish neighbors, and our commitment to following Jesus, the Christ who both reached across borders and crossed them, requires us to push back against nationalistic rhetoric that is exclusive, hateful, and xenophobic. As Christians we are called to love the foreigner as ourselves, because we were once strangers, because we are called to see the face of Jesus in the face of the immigrant and the alien, and because the love of God, our Creator, Christ our Redeemer, the Holy Spirit Sustainer, knows no borders.