No One Is Illegal
One of my friends brought a few dozen flowers to work, and was handing them out. I asked what they were for, and he said it was for a rally for someone who was being detained. The person couldn't be deported, but also they were not allowing them in the country, and so they were in jail, and had been for over five years. At the rally, there had been a flower for every day he had been detained.
In an effort to understand why this had happened, I asked if they had entered the country illegally. Rather brusquely, my friend responded, "No one is illegal."
They rather had a point.
What does it mean to be illegal?
Your very existence is against the law?
Someone's actions may be illegal, but a person? Your very existence? That is pretty twisted, quite messed up.
Of course, when someone is said to be "illegal" they don't mean they aren't allowed to exist, but that they're not allowed to exist "here."
But really, is that any better?
Blogger Jamie The Very Worst Missionary points out the hypocrisy of so many North American churches in a facebook post which hit me.
She wrote:
When I was fresh out of high school, I spent some time in Guatemala, where, more than once, we were asked to pray for some family member who was in the US illegally. I always found the request awkward. I am ashamed of that now.
A few times, now, in Canada, my church has been involved in supporting a family from elsewhere. There is a woman now, attending our church, whose refugee application was denied. She is appealing. I have seen whole families deported, children and all. I have only seen one person come back. He was Australian.
People say things like we have to take care of our own first. But what does that mean? Who is our own? Are these people not human, too? Why is the stranger born in British Columbia more our responsibility than the stranger born in Guatemala?
In the parable in the Bible known as The Good Samaritan, Jesus tells a story about a Jewish man who gets beaten up and left for dead. Religious leaders from his own community walked by, saw him, and avoided him because helping him would be inconvenient to them. But a Samaritan---someone from the rival people group, whom the Jews would go way out of their way to avoid---stopped and helped him, and paid for a stay at an inn while he recovered. Jesus told this story to a man who had asked him, "Who is my neighbour?" when discussing the law "Love your neighbour as yourself." He wanted the list of possible neighbours to be nice and short, people who he was already comfortable loving. But Jesus threw his question back in his face when he told this story, and then asked, "Who was this man's neighbour?" The man who had tried to justify himself couldn't even bear to say Samaritan and answered, "The one who took care of him." Jesus told this story in Luke 10: 25-37. If he were telling that story now, to you, who would be your Samaritan?
“When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong. You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God." (Leviticus 19:33-34)
"Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’" (Matthew 25: 34-40)
In an effort to understand why this had happened, I asked if they had entered the country illegally. Rather brusquely, my friend responded, "No one is illegal."
They rather had a point.
What does it mean to be illegal?
Your very existence is against the law?
Someone's actions may be illegal, but a person? Your very existence? That is pretty twisted, quite messed up.
Of course, when someone is said to be "illegal" they don't mean they aren't allowed to exist, but that they're not allowed to exist "here."
But really, is that any better?
Blogger Jamie The Very Worst Missionary points out the hypocrisy of so many North American churches in a facebook post which hit me.
She wrote:
When “serving others” is actually a form of personal entertainment dressed up as “God’s work”, the people we’re serving become little more than props for our own story. We enjoy feeding and photographing them in their own countries, and we call them “beautiful” and “heartbreaking” while we applaud them for finding joy despite abject poverty and unconscionable abuse. We “love on them”. We “learn from them”. And then we leave them behind to take our cool new story home where we will tell everyone how we’ve been “changed by them” with a slide show that brings our friends to tears.
But when the living props of our service projects attempt to escape the poverty that has so moved us, when they pack up their children to flee their abusers, when they attempt to cross the invisible line that distinguishes them as deserving of our love, our gifts, and our presence, into the land of freedom and opportunity — well, that’s a different story altogether.
When I was fresh out of high school, I spent some time in Guatemala, where, more than once, we were asked to pray for some family member who was in the US illegally. I always found the request awkward. I am ashamed of that now.
A few times, now, in Canada, my church has been involved in supporting a family from elsewhere. There is a woman now, attending our church, whose refugee application was denied. She is appealing. I have seen whole families deported, children and all. I have only seen one person come back. He was Australian.
People say things like we have to take care of our own first. But what does that mean? Who is our own? Are these people not human, too? Why is the stranger born in British Columbia more our responsibility than the stranger born in Guatemala?
In the parable in the Bible known as The Good Samaritan, Jesus tells a story about a Jewish man who gets beaten up and left for dead. Religious leaders from his own community walked by, saw him, and avoided him because helping him would be inconvenient to them. But a Samaritan---someone from the rival people group, whom the Jews would go way out of their way to avoid---stopped and helped him, and paid for a stay at an inn while he recovered. Jesus told this story to a man who had asked him, "Who is my neighbour?" when discussing the law "Love your neighbour as yourself." He wanted the list of possible neighbours to be nice and short, people who he was already comfortable loving. But Jesus threw his question back in his face when he told this story, and then asked, "Who was this man's neighbour?" The man who had tried to justify himself couldn't even bear to say Samaritan and answered, "The one who took care of him." Jesus told this story in Luke 10: 25-37. If he were telling that story now, to you, who would be your Samaritan?
“When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong. You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God." (Leviticus 19:33-34)
"Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’" (Matthew 25: 34-40)
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