May 2019 – Southwest Conference Blog

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

by Abigail Conley

I thought maybe I should write about that time I needed emergency contraception and the gift of the website that helped me get something that would work for my body. A woman called soon after I clicked that button to confirm my information and calmly, professionally, compassionately asked questions to make sure the prescription they were overnighting would work.

I thought maybe I should write about my friends who have been raped, and the stories we tell behind closed doors. At 25, we could still talk about trauma more than twenty years old.

I thought maybe I should write about making sure young women in my congregation going off to college know how to not get pregnant, to not take open drinks at parties, and hearing what happened any way.

I thought maybe I should write about the trust that Planned Parenthood would help newlyweds and graduate students access contraception and the task of accompanying friends through lines of people accusing her of murder when she was doing everything she could to not get pregnant at a time that a pregnancy would have been financially devastating.

I thought maybe I should write about buying a pregnancy test for a scared youth sponsor, a woman in her mid-30s who would was still unsure of how to care for her body.

I thought maybe I should write about the people who whisper “abortion” through tears years later in their pastor’s office. I thought maybe I should write about the people who whisper “abortion” with fear of judgment with no regrets about their decision.

I thought maybe I should write about the women who I kicked out of the church office as they so proudly talked about their plan to intimidate women seeking abortion. They weren’t quite as proud of their plan to offer enough incorrect information that it was too late for her to obtain an abortion when she found her way to a provider. I thought maybe I should write about the two very conservative women from my church who witnessed that exchange and the grateful look in their eyes as they pronounced, “That’s not right. You don’t know what happened.”

I thought maybe I should write about the fact that I have never been raped, or sexually assaulted and still, if someone grabs my wrist, a panic arises so deep inside of me I am yelling within seconds; somehow my body knows this movement spells trouble for so many women.

I thought about writing about those things.

I thought about writing about those things but you could read similar stories in a few million places on the Internet.

I thought about writing about those things, but why should I have to tell stories of pain in order to convince someone that all those other women and I are actually autonomous humans, too?

And instead of writing those things, I think I will share Janet Ruth Heller’s poem about Deborah, the prophet and judge of Israel:
It is not recorded of Deborah
That she settled down with Barak,
Raised a tribe of Children,
And left off judging Israel.

We may be mothers. We may be wives. We may be many things. But today, I am longing for women to be able to just be.