If we are a Christian Nation..." on Immigrants in America

I preached this sermon at St. James Episcopal Church in Cincinnati on February 5th, 2017 immediately following the newly announced immigrant ban announced by the President of the United States. Two weeks after that sermon, I led a discussion forum at St. James on how to best support immigrants and refugees in our local  communities. 

Preaching (on an earlier occasion) at St. James, Cincinnati

It’s been an extraordinary week for those of us in this country and around the world. We have been besieged relentlessly with the news of our new president’s ban on immigration from a number of predominantly Muslim countries, with the prospect of even more countries being added to the list (although thankfully that executive order has been put on hold for now). We have heard daily of the rampant Islamophobia in hate speech and hate action and yes, hateful public policy besetting our nation and so much of our world. We have seen in the faces of our Latin American immigrant brothers and sisters the horrific fear of families being torn apart by detention and deportation, simply because they had the gall to flee a civil war that would have taken their lives within days.

Perhaps worst of all is that so much of the disgusting actions we have seen against our Muslim, our Latnino/a, our immigrant brothers and sisters, against LGBT folks & more have been perpetrated in the name of “religious freedom”. This idea of wanting to bring this country back to its “Judeo-Christian roots” is so toxic and so baseless that we have no choice but to forcefully reject it. Friends, let me be very clear, if this is the sort of “Christianity”, the sort of “Judeo-Christian faith” that our nation is said to have been built on – I want no part of that kind of Christianity. I want no part of a Christianity that slams the door on peace-loving Syrian refugees, leaving them to brutal death at the hands of terrorism, just because of our own baseless fears.

Into this, the words of the Prophet Isaiah today could not be more perfect. Isaiah is talking to his Israelite people, who by the way, are in exile in Babylon, the area that is modern-day Syria & Iraq. Isaiah notices that the people claim to be practicing their religion and following God, but they have actually fallen into a way that is oppressive and ignores the true justice of God’s word.

Announce to my people their rebellion,

to the house of Jacob their sins.

Yet day after day they seek me

and delight to know my ways,

as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness

and did not forsake the ordinance of their God;…

Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day,

and oppress all your workers.

Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight

and to strike with a wicked fist.

Such fasting as you do today

will not make your voice heard on high.

Folks, these words could have been written to America in 2017. This could have been written directly to a nation, or a national political and religious framework that claims to uphold Jesus, who by the way was himself a Child refugee in Egypt fleeing the wrath of Herod with Mary and Joseph, but then delights in slamming the door on Middle-Eastern refugees! It could have been written to a government that claims to give a preferential option to “religious minorities” that is in actuality a cover for discrimination.

Will you call this a fast,

a day acceptable to the Lord?

Is not this the fast that I choose:

to loose the bonds of injustice,

to undo the thongs of the yoke,

to let the oppressed go free,

and to break every yoke?

Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,

and BRING THE HOMELESS POOR INTO YOUR HOUSE;

when you see the naked, to cover them,

and not to hide yourself from your own kin?

This is a sermon that preaches itself. This is the loving, liberating, lifegiving way of Jesus Christ! On Friday, as a sign of solidarity with our Muslim brothers and sisters, I attended Friday Du’ah at the Clifton Mosque, just a few minutes down the road from here. Du’ah is the main prayer service of the week, something akin to Sunday morning in the Christian world. Praying shoulder to shoulder alongside some 300 or 400 of our Muslim neighbors, people of every race and color, immigrants and native-born, led by Imam Ishmail (who happens to be an Irish American white guy), I remembered the one-ness of our sacred faith. I watched as they wash their hand

s before worship, much like in the Jewish tradition and in our own as the priest’s hands are washed before celebrating the Eucharist. I prayed the prayer positions with them – positions much like ours – orans, kneeling, standing reverently with folded hands.

 

Guest preacher Hassan Shibly, a civil rights lawyer from Florida, said in his sermon to the gathered assembly that in spite of it all, this country, the United States of America remains one of the freest places for Muslims and people of all faiths to practice our religion, of any country in the world. He reminded all of us not to lose heart, not to lose faith, but to lose our religion, but to hold stronger to it. He told all of us, Muslim and non-Muslim, to hold fast to the “deen” - an Arabic word that roughly means our true religion, our true faith, the way of peace and submission to God. That word “Deen” is the same as the Hebrew word meaning judgments and righteousness that we pray often in the Psalms, promising to hold to God’s “righteous judgments”

Guess what, in today’s Gospel, Jesus tells us to do precisely the same thing! “You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot. What Good is our religion if it no longer leads us to the way of Justice and peace? What good is our “American Christianity” if it leads us to create injustice rather than breaking it down? You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.

This is the time, perhaps now more than ever, to let our light shine. This is the time, Christians, followers and lovers of Jesus, to let our love shine for all to see. We MUST be a lighthouse to the refugee and the immigrant because we too were refugees and immigrants ourselves. We must be the lighthouse because that is what Christ not urges or suggests, but Requires us to do. I hope you will join me after church as we discuss and prepare to fulfill this sacred duty together. 

What was it like? Episcopal Service Corps in Cincinnati

My year as a Brendan’s Crossing fellow was incredibly formational and important for my personal and ministerial formation as a lay and now clergy leader in the church. From September 2016 to June 2017, I had the honor of serving three unique ministries while living as a member of the Brendan’s Crossing community on a non-residential basis.  Primarily I was based at Christ Church Cathedral, serving as host of the Cathedral Café and as a worship leader of the Tuesday Evening Prayer services and dinners. Both of these roles were directed especially toward engaging the local homeless community while being open and available to all. I also served as a tutor for the Ministerio Latino (Latino Ministry) program in Price Hill on the West Side of Cincinnati. In this role I engaged my Spanish proficiency to help teach a range of elementary and middle school subjects to children of primarily undocumented immigrants. In these diverse roles I was undoubtedly able to both experience and grow in my relationship to God and also to help others to experience God’s love by serving those most in need.

At the altar of Christ Church Cathedral

At the Cathedral, my two roles as café host and worship leader were a wonderful match for my growing ministerial skills and as preparation for my vocation in ordained ministry. Far more than merely serving free coffee to those who were unable to pay, my café became a pastoral space for those with few people to listen and pray for them. Twice during my year there, homeless men remarked to me that they had gone into treatment and become sober because of the pastoral conversations we had at the Cathedral Café. Another woman moved beyond serious suicidal intentions to find a stable job and seek mental health treatment following a series of conversations we had at the Café. Many of these same guests would also worship with us regularly on Tuesdays before dinner at the 5,000 Club. There I preached, led worship and held pastoral conversation & prayer with congregants each week, building up a steady core of worshippers and a congregation of about 50 each week. Working with three other liturgical ministers, we were able to build a choir of ten that went from shyness at publicly singing at all to belting the Nunc Dimittis in Latin and joyfully offering solos by the end of the year. I was blessed to preach or lead worship on most weeks, including sometimes offering prayer in Spanish when we had Spanish-speaking guests and making intersession with them through a wide range of extraordinary struggles.

This wonderful ministry at the Cathedral led naturally to my work with the Latino community in Price Hill. More than merely tutoring in various subjects, this work took on new importance, especially after the increased governmental scrutiny of undocumented immigrants beginning in January 2017. Working with this population allowed me to also help teach classes on what to do if parents were detained by authorities, and to assist in getting passports for American-born children of immigrants so that the children could prove their legal status if needed. So significant was this ministry to me that I became a member of the Diocesan Latino Ministry Commission and a member of the Cincinnati Sanctuary Coalition to continue this critical ministry beyond my year in Brendan’s Crossing.

"The House" is this extraordinary home of Brendan's Crossing

All of these remarkable opportunities to serve local disenfranchised communities were highly formative in my Brendan’s Crossing year, but the intensity if that year may have been overwhelming if I did not have the remarkable support system of the Riddle House family. Simply having these four house residents, along with Aaron Wright with whom to share one another’s joys, burdens, stresses, questions, meals, activities and extraordinary hospitality was the keystone of my year in this program. That bond, forged through days, evenings and nights of many kinds of formation, held together not only our community but also our spiritual and mental health during the course of that year. One night in November, our souls were heavy and our spirits were feeling crushed on the brink of despair. Aaron called together an open Safe Space dinner where we could be free and safe to share, sit, laugh, cry, process and support one another anyway we could. That day was the darkest and most vulnerable of that year for me, but that evening gave me exactly the space I needed to begin to move beyond the state of anxiety I was experiencing through those days.

Without question, the greatest day of my year in Brendan’s Crossing was the day of my ordination to the diaconate on June 3^rd. The entire Brendan’s Crossing community had been so supportive of me during the course of the year, including agreeing to host my ordination party that Saturday afternoon in the large Riddle House backyard. Being able to share such an incredible life-changing moment with my dear friends, supporters and family was an incomparable emotion-filled experience that I will never forget. Having all of them present with me on that day helped to make it a nearly perfect start to my vocation in ordained ministry.

I am extraordinarily proud to have been part of the Brendan’s Crossing family. The skills I gained in that program continue to benefit me daily in my ministries in this diocese, and it has helped to change lives of people across our region. Brendan’s Crossing is an excellent program, especially for the growth of young clergy and lay leaders in our diocese. I continue to strongly recommend Episcopal Service Corps and particularly Brendan’s Crossing frequently to others, and likewise I hope that the diocese will continue to strengthen and support this program for future years to come.

The missing year: Brendan’s Crossing 2016-2017

This is my first blog entry in nearly an entire year. I never thought I’d be the type to keep a blog at all, and so it shocked me that I’d even want to write any more than I was absolutely required to do. Stranger still that I’d find myself missing it, wishing to find something worth saying, worth sharing with the certainly paltry sum of sleep-deprived narcoleptics whom I could only imagine were hoping my various ramblings would help them find their way off to dreamland at last. After I stepped off that airplane jetway in August 2016 once again on American shores, closing the book on my amazing, exotic year as a missionary in Italy, I could not imagine that whatever lay ahead for me on this side of the ocean would be nearly worth dedicating to paper (or digital media for that matter). After all, who would be waiting to read with rapt attention of my daily goings-on in Southwest Ohio with the same “ooh la la” as befits a new life in one of the world’s most famously beautiful and historic cities?

Canoeing during Brendan's Crossing orientation, September 2016

So I returned to Cincinnati after a month’s vacation – and somewhat by surprise - I leapt at my bishop’s invitation to join Brendan’s Crossing, a small community of young adult believers in ten months of service, discernment, and in my case final preparations to take on the Holy Orders that I had been seeking for years. I’d expected, honestly to find a job either in the Episcopal Church world nearby or at worst take up a secular post somewhere while staying constantly tied and involved with my churchwork nonetheless. This “intentional community” thing was pretty new to me, even though I’d been invited to join a similar group years before as I was starting to discern God’s call to ministry in the first place. I found that my year in the Collegio in Rome (the dorm-style apartments that I shared with Carter, Paola, Maiga, Julia and Margaret at St. Paul’s as we learned about God and ourselves while serving in the church) was basically an intentional community in all but name! And I’d lived a similar life as a residential seminarian for three years before, never once realizing that I could’ve well been a member of the Episcopal Service Corps with the lifestyle I was leading!

Brendan's Crossing fellows on retreat in Kentucky, April 2017

Within three quick days I learned that I would be joining the program, called Brendan’s Crossing & based out of a large white house just blocks from the University of Cincinnati, talked on the phone with their director Aaron, whom I would soon come to adore as an incredible friend and supervisor, and unexpectedly secured a service placement at Christ Church Cathedral where I had already been a member for nearly eight years. All of a sudden, my whole life would seem to revolve around the Cathedral, as it was my sponsoring parish for ordination, my ministry site, the home of my church membership, the nearest church to home, and even my polling place all at once! Soon it was arranged – I would help with the Cathedral’s Tuesday homeless ministry, take part in a “café” that I didn’t quite fully understand, and practice my Spanish skills with the Diocesan Latino ministry twice a week on the West Side of town. I didn’t know what any of that would mean, but I knew that a sacred and unusual journey was about to begin, and I had no idea what to expect next.