"Immigration As A Moral Issue"

© Rev. Susan Karlson

Unitarian Church of Staten Island

September 18, 2011

This sermon is dedicated to the Rev. Dr. Jeremy Taylor, community minister, dreamweaver, colleague and friend, who has inspired my ministry and journey toward wholeness for 14 years with his "if it were my dream" approach to dream work. Blessings to him in his life journey and his ministry of love and wholeness.

I had a dream the other night about otherness. Many of my dreams take place at a retreat or conference and I know from this epiphany what the dream has come to teach me. In this dream, some wise women speak, saying, “go to other rooms and experience what it means to be “the other”, the stranger, the one who feels marginalized.”

In the waking world, when I am feeling “different”, I just want to escape those feelings, to turn my back on those other people whom I perceive are rejecting me. In turn, to ward off the pain, I reject them. This is a pattern our psyches take that is difficult to see in action. I try not to enact this pattern but sometimes my fears get the best of me.

Unitarian Universalists often take some pride in being open, inclusive and welcoming. But perhaps that makes it more difficult for us to realize that we, too, make people into “the other”. In the case of immigration, we know who the “bad guys” are, don’t we? Well, sometimes, we make assumptions. It’s the conservative politicians who oppose justice and equity. It’s the border patrol agents who pour out the water bottles left for parched souls or the ones who hunt each immigrant crossing the desert, pregnant, sick, dying of thirst. It’s the ICE officials or the immigration officials. Maybe, our image of them is that they have no mercy or compassion in their hearts at all.

Though Unitarian Universalism calls us to see the inherent worth and dignity of every person, it’s easy to vilify people who can be seen as standing on the side opposing love. And if we hear the very real human stories like Ravi’s (Ravi works with the New Sanctuary Coalition in New York City) and Norma’s (Norma is a member of the New York State Leadership Youth Council) and we work with immigrants or our friends are immigrants or we simply read the news, we might get a little puffed up, that we are the ones standing on the side of love—while “others” are not.

This really came home to me when my clergy colleagues and I met with various rather conservative elected officials about our concerns for those living in poverty and the treatment of immigrants. I am not sure that those politicians changed their minds but there was an openness to really listen and to welcome our input. And frankly, it shocked me. We may not share views on scarcely any issue but I needed to meet them personally and not get my impressions solely through the media or hearsay, not to deny their humanity. This is a spiritual practice I return to over and over again.

I began thinking about a tendency among religious liberals to hang out only with those who agree with us on specific issues. It’s easier to be in dialogue with those who think, feel and act as we do but how does anything ever change if we only count our friends as those who are exactly like us?

And so it is with Immigration as a moral issue. For myself, I need to hear from our friends like those from El Centro del Inmigrante what they are facing. I need to feel my heart break for Norma whose parents could be deported or Ravi whose child watches her father humiliated and handcuffed with no idea when it could happen again.

And then, one of my dear colleagues faces deportation at any moment. He is a colleague who spoke at this church. He has brought understanding, peace and harmony among factions in this community. And yet, he may be forced to leave for no reason. He is not an “other”—I know him, I have prayed with him. I have heard him speak under the light of candles, I have known his pain and his joy and heard his wise, compassionate counsel. It’s hard not to demean those that I perceive are doing this to him, to all of us on Staten Island that need his presence and his love. Yet it is not “others” who are doing this—it is the immigration system that is in sore need of repair.

It is the system and people’s actions within that system that is reprehensible, that tears families asunder, that has few compassionate provisions for the human family. It is the racial, economic, social, religious and political gatekeepers that act on that system’s behalf to keep out certain immigrants from specific countries whose governments we oppose while letting in a plethora from countries whose governments and dictators we support (at least for a time).

In Death of Josseline are stories of those that cry out to us for justice and the stories of those doling out the injustices. I ask myself as part of my spiritual practice, “Can I see the fear and the concerns that the “unjust” have in their hearts? Do they fear losing a job, a way of life? Do they fear becoming “an other”?” I need to hear their stories, too.

I am not saying that all views are equal. They are not. You heard that clearly in our Call to Community when the president of the Unitarian Universalist Association, the Rev. Peter Morales, held up the difference between legal and moral rights.

A thorough understanding of all sides of the issues will not negate the need for comprehensive immigration reform; likely the commitment will be greater. I believe in the non-violent compassionate and empathic approaches of Gandhi, Martin Luther King and Cesar Chavez, in the faith that sustained them no matter what happened to them or those that labored alongside them in the fields of justice and human rights. Deep down this is a moral struggle. Don’t each of us know what is “wrong”, legal or not? We are strengthened through our moral and spiritual integrity when we stand for immigrant’s rights, acting in solidarity with and accountability to people of color who have been oppressed since the founding of this country, or the many who are immigrants from countries still crippled by colonization. We need not be apologetic or conditional about that solidarity, whatever form it takes.

There are broader moral issues—I may be conditioned to turn adversaries and opponents into an “other”. Even more, deep in my heart and soul, I believe that I am called to take the anger I feel and transform it into love and justice. When someone we love—our children, our partners, those closest to us—infuriate us, we still love them. How can we acknowledge the anger we feel and change it into something that makes our communities more harmonious, compassionate and peaceful, less violent?

One of our members said that there are people in this congregation whose work is to help immigrants yet they feel that when they come to this church they are told they should do more. Let me be clear about my theology. I know full well that there are people in this church who work with the legal system and try to insure every single day that their clients who come from diverse countries get a fair hearing and have enough resources to survive. Would I say they need to do more? Absolutely not. I celebrate their calling to work in the trenches for justice.

There are others of you who work with clients living in poverty or in schools or colleges that are largely immigrant populations. You are doing everything you can to make sure that those clients and students get a fair shake. We are all standing on the side of love, doing what we can, trying to understand, trying to make this world a better place, part of this church’s mission. It’s enough. It’s simply enough.

Yet, for me, as a Unitarian Universalist minister, I have a deep yearning to see this congregation, to see my chosen faith, use its power, its resources, its energy to collectively reform the immigration system so that it’s more compassionate, just and honest. Even a church as small as ours with limited resources, people and time can have far more influence on the immigration system than one person speaking or acting individually as powerful as one person can be.

That is why Ravi and Norma are with us today as representatives of their worthy organizations, not because we don’t do enough, not because we aren’t enough but because we need to figure out how to harness our energy, to understand what calls to us about this broken immigration system that is destroying lives and weakening the moral fiber of American life.

Our forum today on “Immigration As a Moral Issue”, the congregational study action issue of Unitarian Universalist congregations across this nation, gives us another opportunity to “go to other rooms and experience what it means to be “the other”, the stranger, the one who feels marginalized.” May we find the compassion and moral integrity that leads to justice; that brings peace, inner and outer peace. Amen. May it be so.