The Bible study before the Sunday morning worship service of Iglesia Menonita Luz del Evangelio turns into a passionate sermon.

A discussion of the story of Esther becomes a call to live as the pueblo de Dios amid forces that seek to destroy the church.

Haman, the villain in Esther’s story, becomes a name for political leaders and immigration enforcement agents who sever the body of Christ by taking away “los hermanos y hermanas del pueblo que no tienen papeles” — brothers and sisters who are undocumented residents.

But, like the Jews in the story of Esther, “tenemos que orar“ — we need to pray because some demons require prayer and fasting. Yet no matter what happens, the pueblo of God can have faith. “Porque tenemos un abogado en el cielo, a la diestra del Padre” — we trust in Jesus Christ, our heavenly immigration attorney, arguing on our behalf, defending our citizenship in the pueblo of God.

Among the various metaphors for describing the saving work of Jesus, we now have another: our Lord the immigration attorney, “el Abogado en el cielo.”

Here’s some local media coverage of our worship service and protest: “Protesters hold demonstration,” and “Taking the Cross to the streets.”

And here’s an excerpt from the short sermon I preached at the detention center as a Cary police officer kept telling me to stop preaching and leave the premises:

This chair here will remain empty as a sign of all the bodies that the department of Immigration and Customs Enforcement have hidden from us, the bodies that law enforcement agents have torn from our communities and our families in the middle of the night, the bodies that they have ripped away from our churches. By refusing to let us wash the feet of the people hidden in their detention centers, the federal government has dismembered the body of Christ, they have torn apart the church, they have pierced and severed the body of Jesus.

It is no exaggeration to claim that throughout much of American history the very idea of American collective identity has been a contested notion, contested not only by words but by force as well. It may be, then, that American political identity lies essentially in its contested character, in the practical denial of metaphysical notions of ‘the people’ or of ‘national unity.’ E pluribus unum has been more of an expression of faith, the political equivalent of trinitarianism, than a political fact.

Sheldon Wolin, The Presence of the Past, p. 10.

Feliz Dia de la Indepedencia!

And then this thought: “so why am I not out there?” Why am I on the sidewalk, smiling and waving ocassionally, yes, but not actually in that pulsing river of life and movement?

Mostly it was because of fear—not fear of rejection or violence, which weren’t even remotely present, but of commitment. I’m an ambivalent person by nature, and seminary has only deepened that characteristic. The funny thing is, I want solid, straight, and unassailable answers to my questions. However, I also hold a deep conviction that my faith calls me to listen to the other—those who don’t look like, think like, or talk like me. As Miroslav Volf puts it in Exclusion & Embrace (an incredible book, BTW):

The open arms of Christ on the cross are a sign that God does not want to be a God without the other—humanity—and suffers humanity’s violence in order to embrace it (154).

Praxis brings with it forced option, one that cannot be avoided. When praxis is called for, puzzled immobility before contradiction or indifferent acceptance of plurality of options must both cease—for to exist humanly we must wager, and must enact on our wager (253).

The U.S. spent a staggering $783 billion in 2005 on the military.

As a result, 42 cents out of every dollar you’re paying in taxes this year is going to the military.

Friends Committee on National Legislation (Quakers)

As Camassia insightfully points out the example Paul gives in dealing with Onesimus and Philemon is one of following the letter of the law while challenging the social situation that gave rise to the problem. Her point intersects with what Dr. Robert Pastor talked about on last week’s Latino USA: if we want a real, long-term solution to illegal immigration we need to address the source, not just the symptoms. If history tells us anything, fences, increased border control, deportation, and felonization are going to do little when you are unemployed or barely scraping by and you know you can make 10 times more in the U.S. Dr. Pastor suggests that the long-term, effective solution to the immigration problem would be if we invested $80 billion in economic and infrastructure development in Mexico, thereby increasing the number of jobs and average wage in one countries from which a fair number of immigrants arrive (I realize only half of illegal immigrants come from Mexico, so this would be a partial solution, but still a decent first step). That’s similar to what the E.U. did when it was formed, as there was a similar worry that there would be a massive migration from poorer countries, like Ireland, to more well-off European countries. And, surprisingly enough, it appears to have worked well enough.

Of course, the sticking point for such a proposal is that monstrous $80 billion (spread out over a number of years, of course). Such an amount seems outrageous until you realize that amount is only 10% of what we spent on war in one year!