Reflections on the Bible and Immigration

Excerpt from an e-mail to a friend:

My thoughts about immigration have been long in forming and they still aren’t totally developed yet. I did a searched of Old Testament law the other day just to check out whether there were any policies about letting people in or out of Israel. I mean, Israel was a theocracy, the laws given by God. I think it’s a pretty good standard, though I don’t claim to understand all of it. In any case, there aren’t any laws or regulations about securing borders. But there are mandates to care for aliens and temporary residents and to treat them as citizens or native-borns. And that only seems right and humane to me. We destroy families, leave children parentless, leave mothers and children in poverty when we randomly deport people. This is not right. Not to mention the psychological, emotional and relational damage that comes from tearing apart families. This doesn’t even cover the arguments about what people of illegal status are contributing to out country. It’s sick and wrong to treat them as second class citizens. Immigration policy fails to really look at these people, to look them in the eyes, see their faces and hear their stories. It treats them like numbers and statistics. I serve a God who loves people individually. And I intend to do the same. And to fight for them as real human beings. It isn’t about foreign policy or the economy. I believe that if we treat people right, God will be in our midst and we will be blessed. And I’m sorry that I cannot separate my church and state for the sake of this argument. I believe that my faith has everything to do with my politics. Though I don’t think politics should get to say anything about my faith.

Race - Part 1 - Who am I?

An on-line community that I have been a part of with some regularity since Mane was small is having a discussion about race. It's an organized discussion with writing assignments and such. This seems like a good place for me to wrestle with my thoughts. So, the first assignment went like this:

"But who are you? When you look in the mirror, who stares back at you with eyes full of wonder, mystery, and knowledge? If you had to describe yourself, what community, race, or cultural terms would you use for yourself? When other people or institutions in the community describe you, what racial terms do they give for the complexity of your lived experience? Do you use the same descriptions as others? If not, why do you think there are differences?"

When I look in the mirror I check out the bump on the ridge of my nose and the freckles all over the place. I see someone who looks a lot like my mom. Some days I'm really happy with what I see and some days not-so-much. I'm struggling to find that place for freedom where I don't worry any more about whether I look young or old or beautiful, where who I am matters more than how I look.

If I describe myself in terms of community, I'd say that I live in an ethnically diverse neighborhood with some wonderful people who have been support and love and encouragement to me. I, sadly, wouldn't describe myself as a member of a church community, as it has been more than difficult to establish ourselves in any community of faith.

I am of European descent, particularly German and Swedish and Irish. My great-grandmother immigrated to the U.S. when she was 9 years old, shortly before World War I. She refused to speak German to her children, and she knew very little English. So, she didn't really speak with them at all. I would say that my family has identified much more by occupation than ethnicity. I come from a family of farmers. Sometimes I am reminded of this when I run into the cultural traditions of Mango's family - a family of more educated professionals.

To be honest, I am not fond of being "white." This is another thing I'm trying to work through. I want Mane to be proud of her heritage, not trying to become something else. My family gave me very little sense of cultural heritage, and I have to be intentional if I want to pass something of a cultural heritage on to Mane. Vespera's experience is rich with culture and fraught with the hardships of racism and discrimination. Being her mother has caused me to pause much more often in reflection on culture, ethnicity and race. Here is an excerpt from an e-mail I sent to a friend last week:

"The attitudes toward Hispanic people are pretty heated all over the U.S. right now. The kinds of things I tend to deal with are people's attitudes about immigration. AND the total neglect of Hispanic people in discussion about racial tension and race relations in our country. People in the U.S. view "race" as a black-white thing, as though everybody else does not exist. The science museum here just did a "race" exhibit, and I was surprised by how much I had trouble with it. As a rule, I don't use the word "race" at all, except when I'm specifically talking about the tensions in our country that have to do with skin color. The rest of the time I talk about ethnicity and culture. I was surprised that the science museum called their exhibit "Race," though that was what they were getting at - skin color, I mean. Anyway, being in such close proximity with another culture has made me think about how we humans like to be with people who are like ourselves and what that means. I don't necessarily think it's good or bad. It's the way we are. And I'm frustrated with the way adoptive parents are encouraged to find ways to connect with people of their child's cultural origins. This can lead to a lot of artificial self-serving relationships. Authentic relationships are much harder to come by and cannot be forced. I've thought a lot about how not to be just a "spectator" of another culture but, instead, how to embrace that other culture in appropriate ways. I don't want to exploit, and I don't want to act like something I'm not. It's all a big jumble in my head. It's a difficult topic, and, in some ways, I feel that I don't even have the right to say much about it since I am of European descent."

I get frustrated with my "whiteness" and, perhaps, my lack of cultural identity. It drives me crazy to check off the box that says I'm white on applications for things. White is not an ethnicity or a culture. It's a color - not to mention that white & black are not technically the color of skin of anyone I know. Mane has grown up describing herself as pink. And our neighbors call themselves brown. Vespera calls herself brown. These are actual colors of skin, and if we tried to name all the colors accurately we would run out of words. There is simply more diversity in the world than that.

So, I guess I wouldn’t describe myself in the terms that other people use to describe who I am. I am a mother, lover, friend, Christian, family therapist, childbirth educator, woman, neighbor, activist. I am German, Swedish, and Irish with a messy family history. I hold within me the characteristics of those cultural groups without thinking about them. I am a collector of diverse traditions. Someone learning to cook and sew and garden. Someone gathering spiritual traditions from various traditions. Someone gathering family traditions from the same. I am me.

Library List Continues

Some new ones:

In Rosa's Mexico by Campbell Geeslin, Illustrated by Andrea Arroyo
We haven't read all of this one yet, but it's a very fanciful book about Rosa, violetas, her mother's soup, and their cooking pot.

Rain Makes Applesauce by Julian Scheer, Illustrated by Marvin Bileck
This is an enormously strange book of silly talk with equally strange illustrations. It's worth it just for reading something totally out of the ordinary. It's a Caldecott Honor Book, too!

Inch by Inch: The Garden Song by David Mallet, Illustrated by Ora Eitan
This is a picture book of the Inch by Inch song we have on our Peter, Paul & Mary album. Mane loves to read the book and then hear the song. There's something amazing about something being in two places and two different mediums.

The Tale of Rabbit and Coyote by Tony Johnston, Illustrated by Tomie dePaola
This is the favorite of the four books we last checked out. It's very reminiscent of Brer Rabbit stories, but this one comes from Oaxaca, Mexico, and includes some new Spanish words for us to learn.

Biblical Thoughts on "Aliens"

Although most immigrants I speak with are not fond of the word "alien," this is the word used in our English translations of scripture for people who were not Hebrew but were living among the Hebrews/Israelites. For the sake of Biblical study, I'm using the word "alien" today.

"When an alien lives with you in your land, do not mistreat him. The alien living with you must be treated as one of your native-born. Love him as yourself, for you were aliens in Egypt. I am the Lord your God." Leviticus 19:34

"For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who shows no partiality and accepts no bribes. He defends the cause of the fatherless 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." Deuteronomy 10:17-19

"Do not deprive the alien or the fatherless of justice, or take the cloak of the widow as a pledge. Remember that you were slaves in Egypt and the Lord your God redeemed you from there. That is why I command you to do this." Deuteronomy 24:17-18

"You are to distribute this land among yourselves according to the tribes of Israel. You are to allot it as an inheritance for yourselves and for the aliens who have settled among you and who have children. You are to consider them as native-born Israelites; along with you they are to be allotted an inheritance among the tribes of Israel. In whatever tribe the alien settles, there you are to give him his inheritance,” declares the Sovereign LORD." Ezekiel 47:21-23

Grace

"Sometimes grace is a ribbon of mountain air that gets in through the cracks." ~ Anne Lamott

Or sometimes grace is digging in the garden in your own back yard. In either case, some of the dirt got under my fingernails, some of the sunshine got into my skin and popped out a few more freckles, and I am feeling better. Prayers ascending on ribbons of spring air and sunshine brought a whole lot of healing to my heart this weekend.

...enough that I may be able to compose the post I've been thinking about race. Stay tuned.

Anxiety

Between the IRS, the neighborhood, Mango's graduate school & the school where he teaches, and Mane's potential allergies my anxiety levels are reaching unparalleled proportions. Apparently just when you're really convinced you've got a problem whipped, it's time for the devil to bring it back to life. And God is sitting there waiting for me to just trust.

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:6-7

Help me, help me, Jesus.

Life on a Cliff

It wasn't too long ago that I posted about how if you're really uncomfortable where you're at, and whatever you're doing makes you want to run away, you're probably just about where God wants you. It's not always like that, of course. Sometimes we have these beautiful moments where all things come together and all the stars are aligned and it's totally worth it. It's a little like walking on the edge of a cliff. You'd rather be a little further inland, but then you'd miss the beautiful view. And you'd miss all the close calls where you know that God is watching out for you because you're doing the right thing. And you'd miss that flip-flop feeling in your gut. Ok...so maybe I could do without the flip-flop feeling. The truth is, I'm afraid of heights. And I'm afraid of my neighborhood right now. I'm just so sad and afraid. I haven't felt afraid in a long time, and I know that isn't where God wants me. At Christmas I wrote about how peace is knowing that God is at the helm and trusting God. When I put it that way, I believe it. And for a few nanoseconds I have peace. I believe that God made humans this way so that we'd have to keep repeating it to ourselves for the rest of our lives. If it got too easy, we'd forget to attribute our peace to God. We'd think we figured it out for ourselves, and then we'd give ourselves a little pat on the back and forget about God. Nope. Not gonna happen. God is the One who holds all things together and keeps them from flying apart at any moment. I like to live my life faced with this enormous reality. It keeps me awake.