Thoughts on a Pray-In

Today, on President’s Day, a pray-in was held in front of the White House to protest quotas on deportations and to shine a light on the plight of immigrants in this country.   Several, including church leaders, were arrested for their participation.  

I have a personal story to share with you regarding the issue of immigration.   You see, six years or so ago, I was pretty firmly against any sort of amnesty, welcoming, etc.  My general view was to send them back from wherever they came from post-haste.  It was truly a black and white issue for me.   They were here illegally, thereby breaking the law and should be treated accordingly.   The cold, hard truth, though, is that it isn’t that simple at all.   For some, it literally is a matter of life and death.   And two very heart wrenching experiences changed my outlook entirely.

The first happened about five and a half years ago.   Our family was in the process of moving to a new town where my husband had been named assistant principal of a local high school.  School was back in session, and my husband, oldest son, and I were still living in a hotel.  It was during these first few weeks of the school year that a local industry became the location of one of the largest immigration raids in U.S. history.   Of course, it was all you could find on the news.  But what tugged at my heart strings was what was not on the news. 

You see, those workers who were rounded up weren’t just a number.   Many were parents.  Parents of children who were students-Students who attended my husband’s school-which put them squarely on our radar.   As news of the raid reached the school, the affected students understandably panicked.  Some worried  about their parent and where they were or might be being sent.   Others worried first about younger siblings who would arrive at home alone because their parents might not be there.   A few even worried about what might happen to them.  

It would be a sad situation if it ended there-but unfortunately, it does not.  When the school reached out to the authorities in charge trying to get information for these children, they were refused.    Other law enforcement agencies reached out on behalf of the school, but were also refused.    And so, the children were left to return to their homes, scared and uncertain that their parents would be home for dinner…or at all…and we were left wondering if it was actually worth it.

Our second encounter, most gut wrenching  experience came a little under a year later.   We were on  a vacation near Progreso, Mexico.   Being history buffs, one of the things we looked most forward to was the chance to see some of the Mayan ruins, so we signed up for a quick tour that would take us outside of town to the ruins at XCambo.  What we got was much more than we bargained for…and it changed us forever.

Our short trip took us a down the shoreline.   Along the beach, you will find grand mansions-fabulous homes that would no doubt suit the most exquisite of tastes.   You will also find the homes of the less fortunate-and I use the term “home” loosely.  Here in “America, the Beautiful” we would likely refer to these people as homeless.  The homes were nothing more than scraps of tin, plywood, and cardboard-yes, cardboard- pieced together to provide some semblance of shelter from wind and rain often no more than five feet by five feet wide.   The tide fills the bottom of these “structures” in the morning and evening, and stagnate water fills low lying areas around them.  There is nothing-no fresh water, bathroom facilities-none of the comforts that we tend to consider basic.  Families-yes, families-as in multiple people-inhabit these things, often subsisting on less than two dollars a day-at times choosing which child to feed because there simply isn’t anything.    And they are everywhere, as far as the eye can see. 

I saw Mayan ruins in Mexico.   I did not care.  What stuck in mind then and continues to stick in my mind today is that shoreline.   That wretched shoreline.   And everything I thought about immigration changed.

You see, I just can’t do it anymore.   I can’t justify herding human beings up and sending them back to that.  I can’t rationalize putting anyone in those deplorable, hopeless, and downright inhumane conditions.  I cannot fault a man or woman who is willing to try to escape these conditions, conditions which affect their very lives and the lives of their children.   And I won’t.

We supposedly live in a country that believes so much in humane treatment, that prisoners, even the most vile offenders, have rights to certain things.  How can we justify how we treat these HUMAN BEINGS who are merely trying to escape the hopeless abyss of despair and death that surrounds them?  How is herding them into detention camps and sending them back to conditions that we would arrest someone for leaving a dog in acceptable and/or humane? 

As Christians, we can no longer sit idly by and allow other human beings to be degraded  and devalued to this extent.  God created these people in His image, they are HIS children, and He loves them.  As should we.   And we must be His hands and feet, reaching out to them in love, creating hope, not more hopelessness.

Today, some Christian leaders took a risk and said simply, “This is not okay.” by having a pray-in.  They were arrested, but their efforts should not be in vain.  They must not be.

Not everyone is called to be a protestor.   But everyone is called to pray.  Pray for these immigrants.  Pray for their situations.  Pray for those who are still living in the grips of hopelessness.   Pray that a solution will be found and that good will come from it.   Pray that hope will prevail.  Pray that those who are called, be it to leadership, protest, or prayer, will have the courage to get up and go.

Profiles in Light: In the Storm

First of all, let me take a minute to apologize for my absence in posting the last two weeks.  A string of unfortunate events kept me away from the blog, Facebook page, Twitter account, etc.   I’m still trying to get back up to speed, but here’s a good start:  a profile in light!

For this particular post,  I feel compelled not to highlight the good works of one organization or person, but a multitude of people in the midst of a crisis-because it seems in the midst of a crisis, the spirit of putting others first and doing good really seems to shine doesn’t it?

Last week, the south was pummeled by a winter storm called Leon.  Now, I don’t know where you’re from, but down here in the southern portion of the U.S., we just don’t have enough ice and snow to be accustomed to dealing with it or to have what is needed to deal with it on hand-and Leon made us well aware of this.   Schools and business closed, roads became impassable and well, things just generally came to a standstill, leaving many stranded—and in need.

And thanks be to God, good showed up!   Amidst the distressing news reports of people stranded on highways, children stuck at school, etc. came rays of light.  And that, my friends, we should celebrate!

A doctor in Birmingham walked several miles through the storm to save the life of a patient who was in critical need of a surgery.   Other hospital personnel throughout the affected areas stayed with patients for days until they could be relieved by others who were unable to make their shifts due to the hazardous conditions (I am pleased to say my nephew was one of these fine people!).   Teachers, principals, and other school personnel spent the night at schools caring for children who were stranded there.  Emergency workers and national guardsmen went to work and to the rescue.   There were reports of Chick-Fil-A giving out food to stranded motorists, and other businesses opened their doors to give those stuck out in the elements a warm place to get relief from the elements.   Those with vehicles capable of traversing the roads gave rides to strangers trying to get to their homes.

Even in the midst of the storm, people went out of their way to do good things.  Love prevailed.  God is good.  All the time.    Even in the storm.  

Rest in that, my friends, and get up and go!

Banana Surgery

As I’ve mentioned before, I am employed as a minister.  While I have many duties associated with my employment, my primary function is to lead and teach the youth of our church.   Last night, I divided my wild bunch into surgical teams of 2 or 3, and provided them with an operating table (paper plate), scalpels (plastic knives) and a patient (a banana).  I gave them the instructions to peel the banana and cut the banana any which way they desired.  The only requirement was that they keep all the pieces (i.e. don’t eat the banana).  So, my little group of future M.D.’s went to work.   Some made even, precise cuts.  Some were sliced length wise, other in half.   Some were, well, let’s just say not as precise.

And then I dropped the bomb on them.   When they were finished, and had presented their pieces of bananas, I then instructed them to reconstruct their “patient.”   Of course, I provided a few surgical supplies to assist with the endeavor-tape, paper clips, etc. 

Hilarity ensued.

We ended up naming the “patients” post-op in our laughter, and here I present to you Frankenana, Ninjana, Zombanana, and Body Bag Steve (poor Steve).

The object of the lesson was to point that once we “do harm” to of just outright hurt others that those that we inflict damage upon maybe functional, but are never really the same.  Just like our bananas bared the marks of the scalpels, even after attempts to repair them, so to do the souls and spirits of those who are hurt bear the scars of their sufferings.  

After I got home and began looking closer at bananas as I posted pictures to the youth group’s Facebook page, I began to notice that all four of patients, albeit completely unintentionally, highlighted a different, but important result of what happens when we are harmed.

I first looked at Frankenana.   Now, Frank’s team did a pretty good job in his reconstructive surgery.   He was certainly the most intact afterwards.   He was even wearing a smile-unusual, if not slightly creepy-for banana who has just endured major reconstructive surgery.    Nevertheless, behind that smile, Frankenana was just that-Frankenana-a sort of banana who once was an actual banana, and who really had no hope of becoming a full banana again through the help of even our most skilled surgeons.  People are like that.   Maybe they keep on smiling, and keep on going.   Maybe even on the surface they appear to be pretty much together.   But once someone has cut them to their core, by word or deed, though the damage has been repaired, some scarring remains.

Next there was Ninjana.   As the Ningana’s medical condition was appearing increasingly grave, Ninjana’s team of gifted surgeons improvised an incredible life-saving technique with a roll of black electrical tape that just happened to be in one of the surgeons pockets.   Ninjana was wheeled out of surgery completely reconstructed on the outside with a new and improved façade to boot.   In fact, he’s new facade was so tough that Ninjana was practically impenetrable.   He was not firmly surrounded by a wall of electrical tape which not only allowed our resident Banana Ninja to hold to his original form (not to mention look like the most awesome Banana Ninja we know), but also to conceal in that form on the inside he was completely a mess.  You see, most of the inside of Ninjana was impossible to piece back together, and so Ninjana’s surgeons managed to create an outer appearance  that served to protect Ninjana from ever feeling like less of a banana again and conceal the fact that inside, Ninjana was basically baby food.  Again, we find this in some people too.   Once people are hurt and hurt again, they eventually learn to put up a wall.   The wall has two primary functions.  One, the wall protects that person from getting hurt again by preventing anyone or anything from getting close enough to hurt them like they have been hurt before.   Two, the wall ensures that no one sees how badly they have been hurt, and how they still hurt from past grievances.   It’s a difficult repair that had to be made, to say the least.

And then there was Zombanana.  Now, the question remains as to whether Zombanana survived the surgery or not.   He appeared to be relatively intact, but there were definitely some open areas, particularly relating to the brain area, and as I am not an expert in zombiesque bananas, well, I’ll let you decide whether Zombanana is actually a banana or not.  What I can tell you, he came out a bit warped, and forever changed by his experience.  The wounds he suffered were a bit less reparable, and it as a result he had a bit of form change (we also decided against letting Zom near the other patients for safety reasonsJ).   This too happens with people.   Sometimes the wounds are so great, that short of finding God’s love and grace afterward, people don’t heal in a meaningful way.  Sometimes hurt that is inflicted is so painful that healing never really occurs short of divine intervention, and that person ends up living life with an open wound that effects everything they do in life-every action, reaction, emotion, feeling, etc.-so much in some cases that it could raise questions as to whether they are still, in fact, alive.

And finally, there was Body Bag Steve.  Poor Steve.  We can safely say that Steve didn’t survive.  He gave his life to science…er, theology...ah, forget it.   Steve wound up still in pieces underneath the a mound of scotch tape that secured him to his funeral pyre, I mean, operating table in a manner that he at least somewhat resembled his former self-at least for the purposes of final viewing.  You see, Steve’s initial surgery was just too invasive for him to recover.  He had been cut, and cut, and cut again, and eventually there was no hope for our patient to survive, even with a team of surgeons.   And sadly, there are people like that.   Eventually they just get hurt so much that they are only a shell of their former selves-of what God created them to be-and they cannot heal at all without the help of a God who loves and heals.

 There’s a point to all this.  There are three primary focuses to Get Up and Go 2014:  Love first.  Do good.  Pray for each other.   All three come into play here.

 First-just love.  Don’t worry about anything else.  Just love.  If you go in love for your neighbor as God has loved you, you’ll be okay.   And remember what love is-see 1^st Corinthians 13 if you need a refresher. Don’t go out of your own righteousness, don’t because you’re right.  You’ll do harm.   Christ did not come forcing anyone at the tip of a sword-because that is not love.   Go in love.  God’s love.

And in God’s love, DO GOOD.  You (Yes, YOU!) were created to do good for the kingdom!!!   So do it.  Be a light.  Be the good.   That good will gain more for the kingdom than anything that is forced will!!  And furthermore, that good might be an instrument that God uses to heal the Frankenanas, Ninjanas, Zombananas, and yes, even the Body Bag Steve’s (Poor Steve!) in this world.  

Finally, pray.  Pray that love will prevail.  Pray that it will be your first instinct.  Pray that good will be done in love and that God will shine in that good.  Pray for the healing of those who have been hurt and that the good they experience will help that process.   And pray for each other as we all get up and go so that we might change the world.

(And, if you want to see all the surgery pictures, go to:   https://www.facebook.com/DecaturUnitedMethodistChurchYouth)

Profiles in Light: The A21 Campaign

Did you know that there are currently 27,000,000 men, women and children held in slavery in the world?  That’s an astonishing number, and not a pleasant thought.  Here are a few more facts:

The average age of victims is 12 year old.

Only 1-2% are ever rescued.

Only 1 in 100,000 European traffickers are ever convicted

Human trafficking is the fastest growing international organized crime, and some place it as the second or third largest in the world.   Many believe it will be the top international crime in just a few short years.

Think you’re exempt because you live in the United States, a country that fought a bloody civil war 150 years ago to end legalized slavery?  Think again   Incidents of human trafficking have been reported in every state in the union.

This seems like a hopeless situation.  But it doesn’t have to be.

Enter the A21 campaign-Abolishing Injustice in the 21^st century-An international organization offering a light in the darkest night-and our second Profile in Light.  Their mission is to abolish slavery.  Everywhere.   Here’s how they’re going about it.

-Raising awareness and education to both potential victims and suppliers.

-Shelters for those who have been victims and help in transition after such a traumatic experience

-Prosecuting those responsible for human trafficking.

-Partnering with local agencies to provide support and education to communities.

It may seem like an impossible task.  After all, there are 27 million people currently living under the yoke of slavery.  But, there are 7 billion who can end that.  And A21 is helping to empower, educate and lead the fight against this injustice. 

Saturday marked National Human Trafficking Awareness Day.  So, how can you help?  There are 21 ways to help listed here: http://www.thea21campaign.org/content/21-ways-to-get-involved/gjf4co .  Some are as simple as praying, writing a letter, or simply connecting with the A21 campaign.    Others include being aware of the signs of human trafficking.  There’s truly something that everyone can do to help here, and all of it will be doing good.

Maybe God is calling you to help here-through love, through doing good, through praying for each other.  Won’t you get up and go? 

(Source:  www.thea21campaign.org)

https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-A21-Campaign/194115677277113