Category: Arizona

Learning a more complete version of our nation’s history

by Rev. Talitha Arnold, United Church of Santa Fe

In early June, six United youth, with Karen and Frank Wilbanks and myself, traveled to the Navajo Nation for four days of exploring that sacred landscape and learning about the history and present lives of our Navajo/Diné neighbors. We took a jeep tour deep into Canyon de Chelly and met with the two Diné Episcopal priests who serve the Fort Defiance Good Shepherd Church, with whom United has a long-standing relationship. We even had a chance encounter with Di’Orr Greenwood, the young Navajo/ Diné artist, one of four skateboard artists whose work is featured on a new set of U.S. Postal stamps.

We were also in Window Rock, the capital of the Navajo Nation, and toured the History Museum on “Treaty Day” (June 1), that commemorates the signing of the 1868 Treaty that ended “The Long Walk.” In case you don’t know this history, between 1863 and 1866, after burning their crops and kidnapping their children, the U.S. military forced over 10,000 Navajo/ Diné men, women, and children to walk from their homeland in northeastern Arizona 250 miles to Bosque Redondo in southern New Mexico. At least 2,000 Navajo/Diné died on the journey. Another 4,000 died over the next four years of imprisonment, due to disease and malnutrition.

Finally, Navajo/Diné leader Manuelito and others successfully used the treaty-making process to secure a return to their homelands and forge a diplomatic relationship with the United States government. Juanita, Manuelito’s wife, and other women also participated in the negotiations, even though—as women—they weren’t officially recognized by the U.S. government. To secure the treaty, the Navajo/Diné also had to agree to giving up their children, from age 6 to 18, to Indian Boarding Schools—a whole other chapter of U.S. history.

After the Museum tour and Treaty exhibit, I asked our youth how learning this hard history made them feel. “Sad,” said one. “I wish our country hadn’t done that,” said another. “We need to make sure something like that never happens again,” said another.

I couldn’t help but contrast their feelings with the current rhetoric used to ban books and forbid the teaching of a fuller history of our country. Such actions are needed, so the argument goes, to keep children and youth from feeling bad or ashamed.

That wasn’t what our kids felt. When they learned a part of U.S. history they’d never known, they felt sadness and empathy. They knew that something our country had done was wrong, and they felt a commitment to make sure such injustice won’t happen again. Empathy. Responsibility. Concern for justice. Aren’t those supposed to be Christian values?

As we prepare to celebrate the 4th of July, let’s learn from our youth and be open to learning a more complete version of our nation’s history. One could argue it’s the Christian thing to do.

Our Trip to the Border

by Jane McNamara, Chair, Immigration Task Force, First Church UCC Phoenix

Hidden along the edge of the concrete ramp were 20 or 25 coins. I carefully picked them out of the sand and put them in the back pocket of my jeans. Nearby were torn pieces of paper money from Cuba – and strewn everywhere were shoelaces, belts, clothing items of all kinds, backpacks and shoes. Lots of shoes.

There is an explanation for what we saw at the border last week. Our guides, Fernie and Nathalie with the non-profit AZCA Humanitarian Coalition, said that Border Patrol agents require all migrants to leave their possessions behind. Agents say they don’t have the personnel to do the needed security checks. So, when they process migrants seeking asylum after they’ve crossed the border into the United States, migrants are given a clear plastic bag for their papers and perhaps a phone – and that is what they bring with them to the Welcome Center in Phoenix.

And the shoes? Since many cross water, they leave their muddy, wet shoes and wear someone else’s that have dried in the sun. An explanation, perhaps, for why so many guests at the Welcome Center are wearing shoes that fit them so poorly.

It was clear from our visit that Fernie and Nathalie would like to find ways to reuse more belongings but there isn’t the volunteer network that would be needed to undertake such a project. Instead, the AZCA Humanitarian Coalition organizes border aid trips, leaving water and fruit for asylum-seekers and, importantly, “restoring” the land. Five of us helped them one morning last week, following them along the dirt road by the border from Yuma to San Luis, making six stops and encountering migrants in many places along the way. And yes there are gaps in the wall near Yuma – and the wall will never be “finished.” Farmers demand access to water and the federal wall ends where the Cocopah Reservation begins.

We did not see Border Patrol process any asylum-seekers while we were there, but the evidence that they do indeed require everyone to throw away their personal possessions is everywhere. We filled bags and bags of “trash” and left them in the dumpsters parked along the border. In a few places, migrants picked up bags and helped us.

And afterwards, some of us brought items we found on the border to the Welcome Center. I washed hundreds of shoelaces in hopes our visitors to the Ropa (clothing) Room might be able to use them. My sister brought in the white confirmation dress she found and pinned it on a wall in the Ropa Room, thinking the mother who left it behind might visit us and see it, just waiting for her to reclaim it.

And I kept the coins I had found in my pocket.

Late last Saturday afternoon, four women who had chosen some clothing items from the Ropa Room were sitting on benches in the hallway, and one of the women was crying. I gave her a small stuffed dog and asked if she missed her family. One of the other women said she had been talking to her mother in Peru. Peru? I had never met anyone at the Welcome Center from Peru, but the coins in my pocket were Peruvian. I gave them to her and she placed them in her hand and stroked them ever so gently.

It was surely another one of the “God things” we witness so often at the Welcome Center.

We are truly blessed to be able to help welcome our newest immigrants to this country, and assist them as they pass through Phoenix on their way to sponsors throughout the country. And everyone who has donated clothing or shoes or tote bags or who has contributed to our meal fund is part of our First Church team. We are making a difference in people’s lives. Thank you.

Missing Sermons and Lessons: Part I of II “Why Shy and Silent About Domestic Violence?”

(This series is about adult with adult relationships)

by Kay Klinkenborg, Church of the Palms

October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month, a topic we seldom write about in our religious or spiritual articles. I was about 40 years old, married to an ordained minister and the first time in my life I heard a sermon from the pulpit on domestic violence in the home and relationships. It was delivered by my husband.  It took another 10 years before I heard a second sermon from the pulpit on domestic violence DV. 

The second sermon was preached by Dr. Roger Compton, pastor of Central Baptist Church in Springfield, IL.  He preached a clear and definitive message on DV and the church’s Christian appropriate response to the victims, in our homes and culture. The next day, Monday, he was greeted at his office by 3+ deacons. “You have stepped over a line this time pastor.   You have gone to meddling.  We can’t have this taking place in our church.” I suspect that one or more of those deacons was guilty of emotional/and or physical abuse in their own marriages. Patriarchy controlling one more time what is permissible to preach about from the Bible. 

There are numerous topics in the field of DV in which our congregations need education.  In Part I, I will focus on what is DV?  What are the statistics in the US and Arizona and some specific ethnic and racial data. That brings forth some key questions, what could we be doing in our churches to help end DV? 

What does domestic violence look like?  Legally, domestic violence is the willful intimidation, physical assault, battery, sexual assault, and/or other abusive behavior as part of a systematic pattern of power and control perpetrated by one intimate partner against another. It includes physical violence, sexual violence, threats, economic, and emotional/psychological abuse. The frequency and severity of domestic violence varies dramatically. 1  It is also called ‘intimate partner violence’ and is not exclusionary to legally defined marriage.  

Domestic Violence (DV) cuts equally across all classes, incomes, social economic stratus in our culture. There is a supportive ‘old boy’s network’ that it is to be kept quiet and what happens in the home is of no concern of others. DV cuts across lesbian and gay relationships as well. We don’t preach the do and don’t of how to be in relationship with each other in healthy ways. We use the word ‘fighting’ when the truth is, couples need to learn how to have a healthy argument. The very word ‘fight’ assumes there is permission to get out of control…having power over someone else. Arguments are about hearing each other out. You might need space to think about what has been said. The ingredients of emotional abuse and threats of physical harm are not present in healthy disagreements. 

An adult person has no permission nor right to physically harm another person. Legally we call that ‘assault’.  So what has perpetrated that permission in the privacy of our homes. There are books, article, testimonies written about how institutionalized patriarchy gives males, or the dominant person in the relationship, permission to do as they please to get their way. Talk about not understanding the Golden Rule!   

When working with couples where DV has just begun to be a pattern, I raise this question to the perpetrator: “Would you do that do you boss, your best friend, or in public?” That got some attention as to why would you use behavior in your home that is unlawful, physically hurts the other person, takes away their rights as humans? Truth is, few DV perpetrators come to therapy. A very small percentage do, if they find early in their relationship they have surprisingly crossed a line they thought they never would in hurting someone they claim to love.   

In the United States, more than 10 million adults experience domestic violence annually.1  

Nationally: 1 in 4 women and 1 in 10 men experience sexual violence, physical violence and/or stalking by an intimate partner during their lifetime with ‘IPV-related impact’ such as being concerned for their safety, PTSD symptoms, injury, or needing victim services.2    Approximately 1 in 5 female victims and 1 in 20 male victims need medical care.3  

These numbers are startling! But Arizona’s statistics will make you gasp.  

Arizona:  42.6% of Arizona women and 33.4% of Arizona men experience intimate partner physical violence, intimate partner sexual violence and/or intimate partner stalking.4   In any given room in Arizona with 50 people, there will be approximately 21 females who have had or are currently experiencing DV. 16.7 males would be victims of DV. 

I share just two people of color DV statistics…for the list could go on and on.  American Indian and Alaska Native women experience assault and domestic violence at much higher rates than women of any other ethnicity.  Over 84% of Native women experience violence during their lifetimes. 5

45.1% of Black women and 40.1% of Black men have experienced intimate partner physical violence, intimate partner sexual violence and/or intimate partner stalking in their lifetimes. 6 

We are a country with a shameful record of all types of violence.  Our churches have been silent too long about DV specifically!  If we are to be teaching Jesus’ message of love, justice and extravagant welcome…we need to educate congregations to this pandemic in intimate relationships.  It also indicts us that we are not teaching concepts of healthy communications, managing intense emotions and fair arguing to our people.   When are the open forums/classes that teach about DV?  When is there a speaker’s panel on DV?  We have no excuses:  literature abounds on speaking theologically about DV.  

James E. Wallis Jr. is an American theologian, writer, teacher and political activist. He is best known as the founder and editor of Sojourners magazine and founder of a Washington, DC church by the same name. In 2020, he challenged the ministers who subscribe to his magazine to send a sermon they had preached on DV; he was looking for 100 sermons to print.  He received far more than anticipated.  But he selected these:  100 Sermons on Violence | Sojourners. 

I challenge each of us to click on this site and read at least one sermon about DV.  The Bible is loaded with applicable stories to teach about DV.   

An early book (1984) was written by Dr. Phyllis Trible, widely renowned feminist Biblical scholar and Hebrew scripture professor:  Texts of Terror: Literary-Feminist Readings of Biblical Narratives (among numerous other publications).  One of many books available to those teaching Bible stories or preaching.  

There is not a lack of resources to address DV.  It is the courage to name it, teach the healthy theology and began to shift the ‘shy silence code’ about DV in our churches. 

Domestic violence needs to be spoken about. Addressed. And ended. 

Part II of “Missing Sermons and Lessons” will be a 1) primer on what and what no to do when someone discloses DV to you; 2) an explanation of elder abuse, why seniors are at risk and safeguards to watch to prevent that prevalent form of DV. 

1 National Coalition Against Domestic Violence (NCADV, www,NADCV.org   

2  Smith, S.G., Zhang, X., Basile, K.C., Merrick, M.T., Wang, J., Kresnow, M. & Chen, J. (2018). The national intimate partner and sexual violence survey: 2015 data brief – updated release. Atlanta: National Center for Injury Prevention and Control, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Retrieved from https://www.cdc.gov/violenceprevention/pdf/2015data-brief508.pdf.  

3  Smith, S.G., Chen, J., Basile, K.C., Gilbert, L.K., Merrick, M.T., Patel, N., Walling, M., & Jain, A. (2017). The national intimate partner and sexual violence survey (NISVS): 2010-2012 state report. Atlanta: National Center for Injury Prevention and Control, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Retrieved from https://www.cdc.gov/violenceprevention/pdf/NISVS-StateReportBook.pdf.    

4  Arizona Coalition to End Sexual and Domestic Violence (2020). State of Arizona domestic violence related fatalities 2019. Retrieved from https://www.acesdv.org/fatality-reports/.  

5  Smith, S.G., Chen, J., Basile, K.C., Gilbert, L.K., Merrick, M.T., Patel, N., Walling, M., & Jain, A. (2017). The national intimate partner and sexual violence survey (NISVS): 2010-2012 state report. Atlanta: National Center  for Injury Prevention and Control, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Retrieved from https://www.cdc.gov/violenceprevention/pdf/NISVSStateReportBook.pdf

6 United States Department of Justice. (2000). Full Report of the Prevalence, Incidence, and Consequences of Violence Against Women. Retrieved from: https://www.ncjrs.gov/pdffiles1/nij/183781.pdf

©Kay F. Klinkenborg, October, 2021
Spiritual Director
Retired RN, LMFT, Clinical Member AAMFT
Specialties: DV; PTSD; Incest Survivors/Sexual Assault;
& Counseling Women. Consultants to IA, IL, KS, MO, NV, NM’s
Coalitions Against Domestic Violence

Elements

by Rev. Dr. Barb Doerrer-Peacock

Elements of the SWC Logo

the saguaro – our faith communities

The saguaro cactus is unique to the Sonoran desert of central and southern Arizona/northern Mexico. It weathers the harsh desert climate through slow and steady growth, adapts to the heat with a tougher skin on its sunniest side, grows its arms to balance itself against the winds, and provides a home and nourishment for a wide diversity of desert-dwelling creatures.  In our logo, the saguaro is the symbol of our Southwest Conference churches, with its adapted cross-like shape it reminds us of our relationship and rootedness with God as shown to us by the life of Jesus. We grow toward God and reach out with arms into our communities.  We are adaptive to the needs of our changing environment and balance ourselves to accommodate the heat of challenge and transitions. We seek to create safe sanctuary and space for welcoming diversities of people. We also draw a unique mission identity from our geographic region that lies on our nation’s southern border.  There are many “borders” in our life, and in following the path of Jesus, we seek to bridge those borders and boundaries with love, justice and acts of compassion.

the sun – our still-speaking God

A primary character in any desert geography is the sun. It gives light and heat, often in extreme ways. It holds the power of both life and death. Our logo sun is the symbol of our relationship with our Still-Speaking God.  The spiral echoes our UCC comma, a metaphor for our continuing testament.  God’s transcendence and immanence is also symbolized in the spiral – the inward and outward spiritual journeys, and the rays of God’s light that reaches into any void and chaos, reveals truth, the warmth of compassionate love, and the heat of passionate commitment to a just world for all.

the mountain – our everyday sacred spaces and callings

Mountains have represented mystical and sacred spaces to human beings the world over, in all ages. The mountains of the Southwest are widely varied from barren piles of volcanic rock, to thickly forested and habitats of wildlife, to colorfully layered canyons and cliffs, mesas and buttes, carved through eons by wind and water.  The mountains in our logo represent our grounded everyday spaces in which we live out God’s calling and incarnate the kin-dom of God.  There are peaks and valleys to our lives that we navigate, there are hidden dangers, yet also grand vistas.  There are deep grounded traditions, yet also places we stand to vision the future.  There is sustenance and nurture, caring for and teaching one another, sheltering the weak, giving challenge and leadership to the strong.

the wind – God’s Spirit among us

In many places in the Southwest, the wind is often a constant companion, blowing across wide expanses of high and low deserts. It carries with it topsoil and dust, much-needed moisture and variations of temperature and weather.  Wind is one of the symbols of the Holy Spirit, blowing with power through the people of God in every time and place, sustaining and guiding life and God’s purposes. Our logo wind, like clouds around the mountains, is God’s Spirit among us, in our life spaces, guiding, sustaining, and empowering us. It brings us through the cycles of seasons, of sunrises and sunsets, it rides on our prayers and our songs to give strength for new beginnings and good endings, fertile soil of creativity and transformative change.

the water – our shared structures and resources for ministry and mission

The element of water in the Southwest is definitive.  It defines life by where it exists, how it flows, and where it is not. Plants and animals have learned to survive and thrive even in the midst of its scarcity. It is vital for life yet can be destructive and bring death in its force. It connects us through shared resources, yet it divides us by defining boundaries and borders. In our logo, as the waters of baptism welcome us to God’s grace and community, our water element represent the structures and resources of our life together in ministry and mission.  We are stewards of our faith community organizations and resources. We strive to maintain a fluidity and adaptability needed to stay vital, yet also recognize the need for boundaries and organizational structure to hold us accountable to each other that we might live with integrity even as we are surrounded by God’s grace.

Thank You

by Mike Lonergan, minister of Church of the Painted Hills UCC

Rev. Michael Lonergan at the SaveAsylum event.

Our event, SaveAsylum: Protesting the Dismantling of Asylum, had just finished. The event took place in Nogales on both sides of the monument to hate and fear on our southern border. As the master of ceremonies on the U.S. side I offered an opening prayer and read a statement reminding everyone that U. S. law gives people the right to apply for asylum. Then we heard the testimonies of six children of God whose quest for asylum was being held up because the republican administration refuses to obey the law and is now using COVID 19 as a cover for its bigotry.

We listened to a recording of a Guatemalan woman’s testimony. She fled her home after she and her family received death threats and the authorities would not help her. She still fears for her safety and would not appear publicly to tell her story.

After listening to that recording we heard directly from our neighbors from Nicaragua, Venezuela, Cuba and Mexico who shared their stories of fleeing violence and persecution at home and suffering abuse as they tried to reach the U. S. to apply for asylum. After each testimony was offered on the Mexican side, an assurance of support was offered by the people gathered on the U. S. side, who then heard the English translation of the testimony.

The event ended with a call to action, followed by a powerful reading of a modern statement of blessings and woes. This reading listed the blessings the asylum seekers will receive and it offered warnings to those responsible for the horrendous treatment these asylum seekers receive.

After the event concluded I was talking to a colleague on the other side of the wall. When my conversation with the person on the other side of the wall finished, the woman standing next to them placed her hand on the mesh between the posts. The mesh, an additional layer of cruelty added to prevent divided families from sharing meals with each other or children of God from sharing communion. The woman placed her hand on the mesh, and with a look of gratitude I will never forget, looked in my eyes and said “thank you.” I put my hand on the mesh against her hand and looked back and said “you’re welcome.”

In that instance the mesh failed. The mesh that is intended to add to the dehumanization of people on the southern side of the border did not stop me from experiencing my common humanity with the child of God whose hand was on the mesh against mine.

That simple, humble act of gratitude will stay with me. It will be my motivation to submit a comment against yet another rule change proposed by the republican administration to prevent children of God from seeking asylum as U. S. and international law permits and to keep contacting our senators and representatives demanding that they make public statements opposing the republican administration’s suspension of the processing of asylum applications. My common humanity with the child of God whose hand was against mine on the mesh requires this of me, at a minimum.

images credits: Leslie Carlson and Mike Lonergan.

Grandmothering God…Help us.

guest post from a pastoral letter by Rev. Seth Wispelwey, Interim Pastor at Rincon Congregational UCC in Tucson

“Nana, ayudame.”
 
Grandmother, help me.
 
These were the last words of Carlos “Adrian” Ingram Lopez, the Latino man who was killed by Tucson police while in their custody. Our police department, which recently tried to claim “we’re not Minneapolis,” hid his death for two months from Tucson officials (including our mayor) and the general public.  The horrific 12-minute video of his final moments Earth-side has now been released.
 
Beloved, the great global reckoning we are living through and acting in is now profoundly, specifically, alarmingly here. This is our city. These are our tax dollars. Carlos was our neighbor. Carlos’ family are our neighbors.
 
Beloved, I know so much is overwhelming and stressful and hard right now. This pandemic and its disconnections from full life and presence with one another. The stresses of managing home, work, parenting, and more amidst so much uncertainty. The fires blazing across our Catalina mountains. The would-be fascist regime operating out of the White House. The righteous uprising compelling so many of us to interrogate and deconstruct the poisonous DNA of white supremacy & patriarchy in ourselves and our communities.
 
And now this.
 
Walking is where we find hope and resist defeat. We make the road by walking. Together. Linked in Spirit and the beloved spirits you each possess that our still-speaking God imbues with strength to envision and embody a new Way.  Strength and vision we can only arrive at together.  Remember our scripture this past week?  In-between spitting a lot of righteous fire, Jesus encourages the disciples three times to “have no fear,” to “not be afraid,” and to “fear not.”
 
It’s ok if you’re afraid of the reckoning on our doorstep. That is a natural reaction. The body of togetherness that we call “church” is a hospital for fear. A medical ward for reaffirming hope. A rehab facility for building up the muscles to respond to others’ fear with the power and actions of love. 
 
We are called for such a moment as this. We are called to be the church we emblazon on our banners. 
 
Beloved, I am here for it. Like each of you, I cannot do it alone. Let us grieve, let us rage, let us pray, let us talk, let us walk.
 
And Carlos “Adrian” Ingram Lopez.  Say his name.  Share his story. Speak up. Act out. His family has asked that in any online sharing you also include #NanaAyudame. 
 
Like George Floyd, Carlos couldn’t breathe. He let them know. He cried out for his parent figures while the police let him suffocate.  Just like Jesus on the cross.
 
This hurts, beloved. Let us hold it and walk it together. Let justice come. Resurrection is the insurrection they thought they crucified.
 
Resurrection is tearing down the idols.
 
Resurrection is liberating the captives.
 
Resurrection is abolishing ICE.
 
Resurrection is defunding and dismantling the police.
 
Resurrection is living the truth that Black Lives Matter, that women’s bodies and choices belong to them, that queer folx are fiercely beloved & affirmed by God, that border walls be demolished, that properties become “re-wilded,” and more.
 
Resurrection lives in you.
 
Bring forth reparations, for the kin-dom of God is at hand.
 
Grandmothering God…Help us.
 
Onward,
Rev. Seth

Guest Workers

by Carol Peterson

[Rev. Carol Peterson recently relocated to Tucson, having moved here from Virginia, and was part of the Southern Conference, Eastern Virginia Association. Happy to have Carol as a new contributor!]

I am new to the Southwest Conference and Arizona.  I visited Tucson several times over the years from my home in Norfolk, Virginia to spend time with my parents, who, initially came here as “snowbirds”, and later became permanent residents.  As they have aged (as have I), my spouse, Loen, and I decided to move out here permanently. So having been in Virginia for the better part of the last 30 years, we had a yard sale, donated much of our belongings, and set out across the country in our pickup truck and four little rescue dogs (sadly now, three), and arrived in Tucson the last week of November 2018, just in time for Thanksgiving.   

Since then, we find ourselves still in the throes of transition, trying to find our footing in a new place, a new climate, a new culture in many ways, and new circumstances.  How do we meet friends, where do we find connections to the LGBTQ community, and where can we find connections to a spiritual and church community? How then, do we find our place, our way of serving, our connection to community, here?

The gospel readings (Luke 10:1-20) yesterday gave pause, and peace. In it we are told that Jesus sent his followers on ahead of him in pairs to the various towns and villages.  When there, he told them, bring peace, heal others, and proclaim to all who would hear you, that the reign of God is near. Don’t bring a lot of baggage, accept the hospitality that is given, eat what is set in front of you, and if you are not received, move on, again proclaiming, the reign of God is near.  

I leaned over to Loen during the worship service and said, “I guess we’re one of the two by twos.”  Wherever we followers of Jesus are sent, for whatever reason, we are sent to heal, bring peace, accept hospitality, and whatever the outcome, proclaim that the reign of God is near.  

Our place is where we are sent.  Our connection is to Jesus. Our community is wherever we find hospitality.  And our task is to heal, bring peace, and always, proclaim that the reign of God is near.  We are, we all are, after all, guest workers, reliant upon the hospitality of those with whom we live and work.  And we may rest in the assurance that we are sent to where Jesus intends himself to go. (Luke 10:1).   

Blessings to all, and we give thanks to God that we are here. 

Here we are again.

by Karen Richter

By my account, we are here at Immigrations and Customs Enforcement for the 55th time… beginning in December 2014. We mark this anniversary – the month by month by month recognition of the entry of our friend Misael Perez Cabrera into sanctuary at Shadow Rock United Church of Christ. We didn’t know then that Misael would be in sanctuary for over 100 days. We didn’t know that we would welcome others into sanctuary. We didn’t know what it would cost our fellowship.

We didn’t know the blessings this work would bring to us either. How we would welcome Misael’s beautiful baby boy. How we would rally around a family to take a child to Lego camp, to make possible family reunions and sports teams and tutoring. How we would stand with a woman who chose to return to Mexico to be with her husband who was deported. How some of us would come to embrace a new vision of borders as a place where people can meet and learn from one another peacefully.

Yesterday, I taught a class… I’m a teacher in the way I move through the world so much more than an activist or rabble rouser. In this class we talked about the tasks and callings that are entrusted to us – personally and as part of groups and communities that we are part of. There are things that are entrusted to me, to Karen… my children, my friendships, my calling as teacher and spiritual director. What is entrusted to those of us gathered here today? To progressive people of conscience? To Christians who see the face of Christ in every immigrant neighbor, every refugee, every asylum seeker?

What is entrusted to us? The people in sanctuary, the asylum seekers who pass through our shelters and church buildings – their safety and wellbeing are entrusted to us. The idea that immigrants bring immeasurable gifts to our neighborhoods – this hopeful idea is entrusted to us. The understanding of our scripture that includes the repeated command to care for the immigrant, the widow, the orphan – this sacred duty is entrusted to us.

So here we are again. We stand here in hope, in faithfulness, in community. We persist. We pray.

Please join me in prayer. We begin in silence.

Spirit of Life; Spirit of Love:

We are thankful for the opportunity to speak here today, for the privilege of standing with our sanctuary guests. We ask for energy to work for justice, for deepening compassion, for spiritual courage. May our hope match the hope of our migrant neighbors. Give us softened hearts to reach out in friendship and trust. Be with us as we continue to advocate for our vision of compassionate immigration policy. We pray today with the confident faith of Jesus, child migrant, teacher, brother.

AMEN.

Being prosecuted for compassion

by Bill Lyons

The Gospel tells Christians that giving food, drink, welcome, shelter, clothing, care, and accompaniment to strangers equates to feeding, quenching the thirst of, sheltering, clothing, caring for, and accompanying Jesus himself.[i] Jesus teaches us that these actions have eternal implications because they are God’s basic expectations for all human relationships.

And yet, the federal government in Tucson, Arizona is prosecuting humanitarian aid worker Scott Warren for providing food, water, shelter, rest, and orienting two men who had been in Arizona’s deadly desert for two days. Warren is charged with harboring and conspiring to transport undocumented migrants, felonies that carry decades of possible prison time. [ii] 

On May 5, U. S. Customs and Border Protection Agents arrested, held, and continue to intimidate Ana Adlerstein for accompanying a Central American migrant into the Lukeville, Arizona border crossing after prearranging their appearance with the port of entry supervisor. Adlerstein was accused of “alien smuggling” although she has not been charged with a crime.[iii]

These are not isolated incidents. Similar arrests and intimidation of U.S. citizens living their faith’s values have been reported all along America’s southern border. Prosecutions for harboring undocumented migrants has risen from 3,461 to 4,532 in the last three years – a 30% increase. In an NPR interview Teresa Todd, a four-term city and county attorney in west Texas, framed the situation this way, “It makes people have to question, ‘Can I be compassionate’?” Todd was arrested and continues to be harassed by federal and state law enforcement officials for giving a migrant shelter in her car until medical help could arrive. [iv]

Living our faith in relationship to our neighbors regardless of their citizenship should never be a crime. Preventing the deaths of people in the desert is what God asks of us. Law enforcement officials should never be permitted to arrest, harass, or intimidate people of faith for embodying the hospitality the Bible describes and to which Jesus enjoins us. People of faith should never be afraid to live compassionate lives. And yet those are the realities many people of faith in America’s border states experience every day. U. S. immigration policy should not make the desert a death sentence.

As a Christian leader I feel compelled to bring these assaults on our core value of compassion into the light. Silence as a faith leader in this moment surrenders our Constitutionally protected religious right to love our neighbors. Not only am I praying for change, I am working for it in the public square. I invite you to be present, speak truth to power, and take action with me to preserve our core values to feed, quench the thirst of, welcome, shelter, clothe, care for, and accompany our neighbors of every immigration and documentation status without fear of reprisals, prosecution, intimidation, or threats against our liberty from government authorities. May the Spirit of the Christ who calls us to love one another as we have been loved by God bolster our courage and strengthen our resolve to protect and preserve the dignity of every person created in God’s image, and to create the loving world Jesus envisioned.  

– Rev. Dr. William Lyons, Conference Minister, Southwest Conference UCC

[i] Matthew 25:31-46

[ii] https://www.google.com/search?q=migrant+deaths+in+the+sonoran+desert&rlz=1C1CHBF_enUS759US759&oq=migrant+deaths+in+the+sonoran+desert&aqs=chrome..69i57.6548j1j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8

[iii] https://tucson.com/news/local/steller-column-intimidation-campaign-intensifies-against-border-humanitarians/article_e6cef226-0d05-55e6-ab0f-6b9d3a2661b8.html

[iv] https://www.npr.org/2019/05/28/725716169/extending-zero-tolerance-to-people-who-help-migrants-along-the-border

image credit: Dan Sorensen on flickr

Reflection

by MK LeFevour

I never liked poetry. I believed if you had something to say, just say it – don’t couch it in fancy words or with metaphors that nobody understands. Then along came a well-meaning friend who loaned me a book of Mary Oliver poems. It sat on my nightstand filling me with guilt each night that I didn’t open it. After a month, my friend asked how I was enjoying the book and I lied, “Oh, I’m loving it!” But not being a fan of lying and knowing my friend would eventually ask which poem was my favorite, I broke down, opened the book to a random page and read Oliver’s most loved poem, The Summer Day. My life was changed by that one act of opening myself up to this woman’s understanding of loss, sorrow and hope.

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?

Mary Oliver won a Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award for her poetry. But what brought her to winning such prestigious awards was growing up in an abusive house where her only escape was to wander the woods near her home. In nature she found her true home and healing for a broken heart.

What we have in common with Ms. Oliver and each other, is that we live in a remarkable place of nature that others might experience as inhospitable. But what we know is that despite living with the constant danger of getting poked by plant life that doesn’t want to be touched is that we are blessed to live in a desert where we are surrounded by daily wonders – the magic and power of a monsoon storm, the collared lizard doing push-ups on our garden wall, the roadrunner stopping on a dime and changing directions as she spies us coming down the wash, the hummingbird taking on all comers to protect his feeder , the coyote sauntering across the road and then turning to give us a smug look before he bounds away into the brush and javalinas who, if you sing to them, will stop and lay down to listen until you’re done with the song.

Mary Oliver’s poems bring me comfort. But why are they comforting? I believe it’s because she continually reminds me to pay attention to the world around me – from the grasshopper to the stars. And when I bring my attention out from the hamster wheel of dark thoughts in my head to the beauty of our desert, I am brought into awe and wonder and that brings me healing.

Ms. Oliver gave these instructions for living a life: Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it. My wish for you is that you find your Mary Oliver who can speak your pain and bring you words of guidance and comfort.

Let me leave you with words from another poet, Rumi, that I’ve come to love (yes, open your heart to one poet and others will push their way in).

Grief can be the garden of compassion if you keep your heart open through everything. Your pain can become your greatest ally in your life’s search for love and wisdom.

 

Photo by Boris Smokrovic on Unsplash