"I was a stranger and you welcomed me..."

What does it mean to live as a welcomer these days?

I have to admit, it’s been hard to write this newsletter lately. I skipped last week entirely—sorry! I’m feeling weary and a bit worn down.

I am a welcomer, and I feel both uncomfortable and angry at how unwelcoming our country has become lately. I hardly recognize the country and faith tradition I grew up in.

I welcome friends and strangers to my home. It’s how I live my life. We’ve had folks (mostly pastors) from around the world stay in our home over the last thirty years. Most recently, we had two different people from South America, here legally on work visas, living with us. (They’ve since, like many temporary workers, returned home.)

My motive for hospitality is simple: it’s commanded in the Bible, it’s what Jesus would do, and it’s simply being a good human. It brings me joy and satisfaction. Further, Jesus said that when we welcome strangers, we are welcoming him. And if we choose not to welcome strangers, he’ll reject us forever. (See Matthew 25). Jesus was not playing when he said:

“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’

“They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’

“He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’”

It’s difficult for me to give you advice on welcoming when we, as a country, are being the exact opposite of welcoming. I’m weary, and uncertain about how to change things. I protest, but that doesn’t seem to do much good.

Why do people come here, seeking asylum and welcome? Because they are fleeing something worse or more dangerous behind. They considered the cost and took the risk. They hoped they’d find welcome and a chance to build a better life.

Most immigrants simply want the chance to work and are willing to do jobs that many Americans simply would not do—on farms, in factories and food processing plants. Others start businesses or provide services in any number of business sectors—they clean your offices and hotel rooms, mow your lawns, work construction. They contribute and pay taxes, even if they are undocumented.

Photo by Mark Stebnicki: https://www.pexels.com/

According to the Institute on Taxation and Economic Policy, undocumented workers paid $96.7 billion in taxes in 2022. Their website reports:

• Undocumented immigrants paid federal, state, and local taxes of $8,889 per person in 2022. In other words, for every 1 million undocumented immigrants who reside in the country, public services receive $8.9 billion in additional tax revenue.

(If you are tempted to unsubscribe right now, please read on, then leave a comment with your opinion. I’m curious and want to hear your thoughts. Let’s have a conversation.)

Some folks believe we are deporting only criminals. But it appears we are also deporting or detaining nursing moms, wives of veterans, even U.S. citizens—all with no criminal record. We are detaining those who legally sought asylum, or who were invited to work here, cruelly changing the rules in the middle of the game. We turn away tourists at the border, or worse, detain them without any reason.

Consequently, Canada and a number of European countries have issued travel advisories warning their citizens to be cautious about traveling to the United States. Tragically, we are not a safe place for even our allies.

Immigrants who came to our border and were given asylum (pending court hearings)—which is a long, complicated, but LEGAL path through our complicated immigration system—are being detained after showing up for those court hearings. People who were hired by U.S. companies and given work visas are suddenly having their legal status revoked. The Temporary Protected Status revocation of more than 300,000 Venezuelans impacts not just those people but the industries they work in.

Masked men without badges or warrants are grabbing people off the street and not giving them the chance to even dispute or disprove the accusations against them.

The US.A. is not a very welcoming place these days.

Why do some support these unwelcoming policies? At the heart of unwelcome, if you dig down, you find fear. Fear of others. Fear of speaking up. Fear of reprisal from others in your social circle, your political world, or, tragically, in your faith community.

When you are told over and over that all immigrants are criminals, even though that is demonstrably false, you begin to believe it. You begin to let the voice of fear drown out the voice of love, or even the voice of reason.

It’s easy to vilify the “other” when we don’t know them. I have a family member who believes (because of the content she consumes) that “millions of criminals” have “flooded across our border” and we need to deport them all.

I’m curious why “criminals” would work in farm fields and meat-packing plants—places being raided by ICE. I mean, if you’re a criminal, you’d have a motive for doing so. Drug dealers, for example, are at least in part financially motivated. Why would someone who can allegedly make money selling drugs choose to pick cabbages for 10 hours a day in the blazing sun for less than minimum wage?

Even the president himself was surprised to learn that his own policies led to detention and deportation of workers who’d been here for decades—many of them working on farms or in hotels (like the ones he owns). He tried to reverse course, make exceptions that would benefit his businesses, but that didn’t work. Immigrants, even fully documented ones, are terrified and uncertain.

Many, especially children, can’t “just leave” even if they want to. The Chicago Tribune recently told the story of 6-year-old Gaby, who’s mom was swept up when she went to a required immigration hearing. Both mother and child are understandably traumatized.

The Trib article noted:

“When parents are detained or deported by immigration authorities, their children — many of them U.S. citizens, others, like Gaby, in the U.S. without legal permission — are often left behind to navigate the fallout alone. Some are placed in the care of relatives, while others may end up in foster care. All face the emotional trauma of sudden separation, sometimes compounded by economic instability and legal uncertainty. Reunification is often blocked by bureaucratic hurdles, Chicago advocates say.”

Our immigration system needs massive reform. There is not a clear path to citizenship, and coming “legally” is complicated.

Deportation of actual criminals is one thing. Cruelty, detaining citizens, and lack of due process is another.

We cannot “practice hospitality” as the Bible instructs and ignore what is going on in our country. We cannot separate our private spiritual life from our actions in the public sphere.

So—I don’t know exactly what to do. But I know some things to do. Call my representatives, share stories of immigrants, keep on welcoming, and keep on inviting you and others into the conversation about this important topic.

I’d love to hear your thoughts. Please leave a comment or question—and as always, be respectful and kind, or you’ll be excused from the conversation.