"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.

"Is Free Speech Really Free?"

© Rev. Susan Karlson
February 6, 2011

Maybe some of you saw the science fiction trilogy, the “Matrix”, that came out about eight years ago. There are a number of interesting characters in those three movies. My favorite is called the Oracle. The Oracle meets with Neo, believed by some of the people to be the One, the one who will end the war waged by his people for well over a hundred years. Neo asks for guidance and the Oracle responds that it’s always a matter of choice and that she can’t even tell him what his choices are.

Doesn’t seem like much of an oracle, does she? Yet the Oracle was pointing to something akin to the song our music director chose for the Offertory this morning, the Michael Jackson song, “Man In the Mirror”. The words go like this—“I’m starting with the man in the mirror. I’m asking him to change his ways. And no message could have been any clearer— if you wanna make the world a better place take a look at yourself and then make a change.”

This is a hard subject, “Is free speech really free?” I feel like I’m walking on shaky ground here—wary that you will think I’m suggesting that each of us need to curtail our freedom of expression, the very rights that are the bedrock of this country’s democracy; the very foundational principles of Unitarian Universalism.

I’m not making any suggestions of that kind but I am calling for us to be more aware of the need for civil discourse, for the kind of freedom that carries alongside it, certain responsibilities to be sensitive, respectful and empathetic.

Mark DeRoss is a conservative evangelical who started the Civility Project with liberal democrat, Lanny Davis. This project was started shortly after Obama was elected president and DeRoss is quick to say that he probably disagrees with Barack Obama on almost every single policy issue but he likes the person; he believes that he is a good man who loves his family and his country and Obama believes he is doing the right thing that will move our country forward. The Civility Project asked every member of Congress and each Governor from every State to sign a Civility Pledge. The Pledge has three parts—“I will be civil in my public discourse and behavior, I will be respectful of others whether or not I agree with them and I will stand against incivility when I see it.”

Recently, DeRoss shut down the Civility Project due to lack of interest because only three members of Congress and not one single governor signed the pledge. Thousands of ordinary citizens signed the pledge but there was rampant incivility in some e mails—demeaning, hateful comments made from liberals and conservatives though DeMoss sadly admitted (from his perspective as a conservative) that there were more vitriolic comments from conservatives.

Part of the reason, he believes, political figures were reticent to sign was because they assumed it meant that if someone attacked you, you could not defend yourself. It’s not true for being civil doesn’t mean that you have to roll over and be a doormat when you are treated badly.

DeMoss quoted President Obama’s speech at the Memorial service for the people shot at Rep. Gabrielle Gifford’s public rally in Tucson, Arizona: “But at a time when our discourse has become so sharply polarized”, the consoler in chief said, “at a time when we are far too eager to lay blame for all that ails the world at the feet of those who think differently than we do—it’s important for us to pause for a moment and make sure that we are talking with each other in a way that heals, not a way that wounds”). I put that quote in the Reflections section of the order of service along with DeMoss’ personal quote (“If you don’t like Obama’s words, try these, taken from the greatest textbook of wisdom and civility ever written—the Bible. “But with humility of mind let each of you regard one another as more important than himself” (Philippians 2:3)”), knowing that DeMoss’ words are provocative for many Unitarian Universalists. I don’t agree with DeMoss—I believe every sacred text contains “wisdom and civility” and Unitarian Universalists draw from many other sources as well. Yet I know that DeMoss believes it and he doesn’t denigrate any other religion—he just lifts up his view.

Some of us have had hurtful experiences in other religious paths and we find it hard to listen to the fiercely held beliefs of those from other denominations. But incivility in return is still incivility; it is not a defense and it deprives us of the benefit of the wisdom of other faiths which we point to as inspiration for our ethical and spiritual lives.

Some years ago, a dear colleague of mine from another denomination, told me about Marshall Rosenberg and his compassionate communication (otherwise known as Non Violent Communication). The three day workshop I first went to was held at a Unitarian Universalist congregation in Atlanta, Georgia. Through that workshop and a nine day International Intensive I participated in later, I learned to listen for the universal human needs we all have—needs such as acceptance, appreciation, authenticity, belonging, respect, safety, and trust. When we listen and try to connect in this way, whether we are engaged in public discourse, talking to a family member, friend or participating in an organization or religious community, we gain empathy; it’s harder to see someone as the “other”.

I have a need for safety and respect as well. Sometimes, I admit that I stifle my own authentic voice for fear of being ridiculed. I am not saying we should walk on eggshells with one another or that constructive criticism is not welcome. I’m saying we need to pay attention to the form as well as the content of our words.
This church is built on the principle of free speech and democratic process. There is a lot of freedom and democracy here—members have the right to elect Board members and Officers and to call a Minister. Changes to the bylaws are made when the members of the congregation vote to change them. It’s in the Bylaws that only ten people are required to call a special meeting and register their concerns. Along with the right to speak freely and participate in this democratic religion comes responsibility—to talk to people in the community directly and respectfully and to use one’s power in a way that is mindful of the worth and dignity of each person, our first principle.

Each of us has something inside that needs to be expressed. I heard it the other week when a group of us met at the Path to Membership. People felt safe enough to share aspects of their life journey and experience that were profound, both long time members and people new to the congregation. I felt moved by the level of safety and trust exhibited that day. Some people shared how much Jesus meant to them or how they had changed over the years in their understanding of the usefulness of “God” images. Something compelled each person to explore membership in this church and to find here a place where they could belong and explore and grow into a better person.

I heard that Garrison Keillor, the radio personality on National Public Radio’s “Prairie Home Companion”, shared that the new Lutheran pastor in Lake Woebegone, Pastor Liz, urged Keillor to stop making fun of Lutherans on the air. She said “I’ve come to love these people here in the past six months and so my preaching could probably be better if I wasn’t so gentle with these people I love.” Maybe Pastor Liz is just being civil—maybe her congregation doesn’t need a heavy dose of guilt or shame. Maybe her love and respect for her congregation and her civility will actually prompt the people to take a look at themselves in the mirror and change when change needs to happen. I surely hope that’s what I do with you, the people I love in this congregation, and it certainly is what compels me to change myself.

I want to put a little challenge to all of us, including me. I am inspired by President Obama’s Memorial Speech for those people shot at the public rally in Tucson, Arizona; it doesn’t really matter if I agree with him on his policies—his call for freedom of speech within the parameters of civil discourse and the healing that comes along with it, is something I want to be more conscious of in my life. DeMoss’s Civility Pledge doesn’t diminish our responsibility to speak freely, honestly and openly with one another. So I am going to put up the Civility Pledge on our Bulletin Board and people can make the “Choice” (just like the Oracle said in The Matrix) whether to sign it or not. I’ll be the first—“I will be civil in my public discourse and behavior. I will be respectful of others whether or not I agree with them and I will stand against incivility when I see it."

I know I will fail in this pledge—sometimes. Yet I want to be the kind of person that can make this promise—that I will strive to be honest and speak the truth as I understand it respectfully. And when I fail to live up to this promise, as in any covenant between ordinary human beings, I hope you’ll remind me of my promise in the spirit of mutual respect. I invite you to join me.