Perhaps you can tell that I was inspired by the privilege of attending a private screening of a powerful documentary on the complexity of our nation's current immigration issues:
Hebrews
11:13b They confessed that they were
strangers
and foreigners on the earth,
Deuteronomy
10:18-19 He defends the cause
of
the orphan and the widow,
and
loves the alien, giving him food and clothing.
And
you are to love those who are aliens,
for
you yourselves were aliens in Egypt.
When Scripture describes us
as “strangers and foreigners on the earth”
we would rather see this
as metaphorical or historical,
not directly applicable to our own situation,
because our simplified, bumper-sticker theologized,
sound-byte-driven culture works best
when we are squeezed into one of two extremes:
either we are IN (the cozy, privileged insiders)
or we are OUT (WAAY out there
on the ostracized and dangerous periphery),
and Lord, you know how hard
we’ve worked to “make it.”
But there it is, in black and white,
peppered throughout the Hebrew Scriptures,
woven into the core of the Greek Scriptures,
pushing us all up against people
who wear the labels we’ve created:
Illegal Alien, Undocumented Worker.
Don’t get us wrong, Lord.
We like low-cost products and cheap labor,
so long as we don’t have to consider
that this cheapness is inversely related
to the price that families and individuals pay
when they are separated and worked
like mistreated animals, not even
provided life’s basic necessities.
We’re all for border control,
now that our ancestors have long-since
made safe passage from Europe and other ports,
safely ensconced as privileged but despised
citizens of this great and powerful nation.
When we come to
worship, O Lord,
we don’t mind confessing a little anger,
a bit of greed, a
pinch of lust, but
please don’t make us think about
our complicity-via-the-blind-eye
toward complex institutional sin
that has slowly
evolved over centuries,
as piecemeal policies have slowly
fashioned an ever-tightening noose
around the foundation of our economy.
Please don’t expect us to consider
giving up the privileges and progress
we’ve gained, as the playing field
is now tilted like Kilimanjaro’s slope.
There, we’ve said it;
named the fear and ‘fessed up the feelings.
Now, speak your truth to us
as we seek to rest in your grace.
Give us wisdom that we may discern
the weed-grown path of strong resistance
winding up the mountainside
of interpersonal relationships,
through the minefield of international politics.
Grant that we may find the courage
to name the sacred cows,
the compassion to speak and act with integrity,
the character to keep going when no one’s looking,
the tenacity to tirelessly trek
all the way to the mountaintop of justice
that demands dignity and respect
for the widow, orphan, and sojourner,
especially when their alienation and aloneness
have been caused by our own appetites.
© 2012 Todd Jenkins
