By Rev. Matt Koerber
When Fais and his family moved to the United States in 2009, they landed across the street from us. They had been granted asylum in the United States after the post-war chaos in Baghdad, Iraq forced them to flee. It didn’t take long for us to become friends and share life in many ways. Recently, I asked Fais if I could interview him for this blog to share his experience as a refugee. He was eager to oblige. We were already scheduled to visit a mortgage broker today and planned to do the interview afterwards. I had been walking with them through the mortgage process – it is complicated enough when English is your first language – but things ran long, and as we drove home we started to look for a time to reschedule. Fais was riding in the passenger seat while his son drove. Now a college student in Pittsburgh, Ibrahim had offered to sit in for the interview. Fais speaks English well, but with an accent. Ibrahim arrived in the US just after becoming a teenager, and now speaks English without an accent. As we started to talk, the story unfolded. Sitting in the back seat, I couldn’t see their faces, but I could tell from Fais’ voice that it was an intimate story. “You know I was kidnapped,” said Ibrahim. I did know, but we had never talked about it together. The story hung over everything I knew about their past. Fais had told me about it, in a fairly general way, but I had never talked about it with Ibrahim. It is not the sort of thing that comes up naturally in conversation. “Are you willing to talk about it?” I asked. “Sure.” Ibrahim replied nonchalantly, but I don’t think it is a story that he tells often. “Things were different after the war. People didn’t go outside much anymore. I always would play in the streets and play soccer with my friends. But after the American soldiers arrived we stayed inside. We played a lot more video games.” Fais had worked with the government before the war and like many Iraqis, the fall of Saddam introduced a difficult period in their lives. As he told me later, “In those days, no one had money.” One morning Ibrahim left the house in the morning to pick up some groceries. On the way, he stopped at a friend’s house to grab a video game that he had left there the day before. He noticed a suspicious car parked outside, but didn’t think much of it. As he reflected back on it, Ibrahim remarked that the family he visited was known for being pretty well off, and may have been the targets of a kidnapping plot. Ibrahim may have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. After leaving, he was followed to the store. A strange man in a brown jacket followed him into the market. “In our neighborhood, everyone knew each other,” said Ibrahim. “When this guy, that I didn’t know, started to ask me questions it made the store owner nervous. He told me to wait around till he left. I waited awhile and when it had seemed that he was gone, I left to walk home.” But he was not alone. Ibrahim was followed across the street and as the man drew closer he was joined by two other men. “The strange thing was, I was right in front of the school when they grabbed me,” said Ibrahim. A black car rolled up immediately and he was thrown into the back seat. The kidnappers punched him and yelled in his face. Apparently, setting him on edge would enhance the negotiation to follow. “All I could think about was my mom,” Ibrahim told me. “I was wondering, ‘How is she feeling right now?’” Back at the house, Fais was getting nervous. He didn’t know where his son was, and his fears rose quickly. A quick turn through the neighborhood revealed that no one knew where he was. In those days, kidnappings were not uncommon. Often, they did not end well. “I knew right away, that someone had taken my son,” said Fais. Over a decade later his voice still cuts out some as he tells this emotional story. Five minutes after returning home, the phone rang. Young Ibrahim had been able to give his home phone number to the kidnappers and they called with their demands. “You son is with us. Don’t call the police. Don’t call anyone. Give us the money and you can get him back.” “Ibrahim, I am here.” Fais told him, when they handed the phone to his son to prove that he was alive. “I am going to get you.” His only option was to comply as much as possible and hope that these kidnappers were “honest”. “I don’t think that anyone would have helped anyway,” said Ibrahim, matter-of-factly. “In those days, the government had bigger things to worry about.” Fais became a little more animated as he rehashed the events of the story, “I told them that they could come to my house and take anything that we had. Come, I have two cars, you can have them. Take any of my possessions, but give me my son…but they wanted cash.” They asked for the equivalent of $150,000. At the time, it was an incredible sum of money and practically impossible to get. It would require selling nearly everything they had and borrowing money from relatives, but in the end, they scraped together enough money to make a reasonable counter offer. It was possible that they would take the money and still kill Fais. But he saw no other reasonable course of action. They arranged a meeting point on the highway and Fais presented himself in plain sight to show that he was not followed. Fais walked forward to the cars that pulled off the road towards him. Ibrahim was in the back seat, flanked by men on each side. “You have my son. I have your money. Just give him to me and we will leave.” Both parties acted relaxed and friendly so as to avoid suspicion. The exchange progressed smoothly. Fais took his son’s hand, determined to never let it go. They briskly left the scene, caught a taxi and returned home. “It must have been a relief,” I said. Fais didn’t understand me at first. Maybe the word needed translation. Maybe it was an understatement. Maybe, in hindsight it was seen to be just the beginning of the struggle. The kidnappers were Shia Muslims, a minority Muslim sect, which happens to be predominant in Iraq. Violence between them and the majority Sunni Muslims colored the post-Saddam landscape with the red of shed blood. As Sunni Muslims, Fais and his family would have been naturally suspicious, but now they knew that they were targets. The kidnappers actually called to confirm the request, and offer their future protection. But now that they had paid a ransom, word might spread. Future kidnappings would become even more likely. They knew that they had to leave. Three months later they sold their remaining possessions and hired a private driver to take them across the closest border to Syria. They left with nothing but their clothes, some blankets and their remaining money. After a year in Syria, where there were no options for work, they moved again to Jordan. Here Fais got a job as an accountant for a baker and they applied for asylum with the United Nations. After an intensive and extensive interrogation and vetting process, the family was cleared for resettlement, and three years after fleeing Iraq they found refuge in the United States. A relative lived in Pittsburgh, so it was a natural destination. Pittsburgh is a world away from Baghdad. Their family is safe and the challenges that they faced have knit them together in a tight bond. Each of the four children are either in college or working in the area. “It was not easy to get settled here,” said Fais. “Not easy at all. It is still not easy.” Perhaps he was thinking of the nearly two-hour meeting that we had with a mortgage broker. “We just want to live and to be friendly with everybody. Just like how we lived in our country.” As our interview wound down, I added the words that I have heard Fais say many times over the years. “We have much to be thankful for.” By Rev. Matt Koerber
This article was originally written last summer (2016) while our family was serving the refugee community in Greece. It is a good example of the first-person experience of someone in the midst of the refugee resettlement experience. Currently, there are millions of refugees that are waiting to be granted asylum. This is one of their stories. I met with Khaled* for English lessons today. He is a Syrian refugee stranded in Greece. His English is decent, but rusty. He says that he was more fluent five years ago when he was using it more often. Until the Syrian Civil War, he had worked for a Petrochemical company in Syria. It was a good job. He was married, he had a son, a car and two houses. After the war started, his job ended. As he watched, bombs swallowed homes leaving nothing but smoke and ash. As food shortages swept the land, he looked for an opportunity to flee. His wife and son had a passport, but Khaled did not. Administrative affairs in Syria were often quite unpredictable to begin with and there was additional red tape in his case. Apparently, several other men shared the exact same name, and the passport was not issued. Eight months ago a window for refuge opened and his pregnant wife and son took it. They haven't seen each other since. His wife delivered a healthy baby girl, but Khaled has not yet seen her in person. His wife flew with friends from a nearby country into Turkey. They were smuggled into Greece when its borders with Western Europe were still open, so they made their way into Germany where his wife had their baby. Khaled could not leave so easily. Without a passport, his path there was more circuitous. He headed North from Damascus into the north-western part of Turkey which is controlled by the Syrian Free Army (non-ISIS rebels.) He paid smugglers to take him, and then paid the city officials to let him pass. After slipping hundreds of dollars worth of bribes and fees into the hands of drivers and faction leaders, he was dropped off at the mountainous border with Turkey. From there, he had to cross on foot, scurrying past armed guards and dodging bullets. Turkey doesn't want border traffic with Syria because of the threat from ISIS; the “no-man’s land” between Syria and Turkey is particularly ruthless. Once he crossed into Turkey, he had relatively free travel. He went first to Istanbul to try to enter Greece by land, but by then the borders were closing. The terrorist attacks in Paris had tightened the borders and narrowed the immigration policies of European countries just as they induced American fears. The only option was to go by sea. He was a father desperate to be reunited with his family and was willing to take any route. He paid a smuggler 700 Euros to take him by boat to the Greek Island of Mytilini. Interestingly, the price was 300 Euros cheaper for him than when his wife went because the borders between Greece and Western Europe were now closed. Supply and demand dictates smuggler’s fees and the demand for Greece has fallen now that it no longer offers access into Western Europe. Once at sea, their small overloaded ship bobbed along the waves as they crossed into Greek controlled waters. The Greek navy picked them up and shipped them to Athens on a Ferry. Several attempts to cross into Western Europe illegally were met with stiff resistance. Without proper identification, he cannot go forward and he cannot go back. He pays 300 Euros a month for rent, which his wife wires to him from Germany. I don't know how she gets the money. The land route that he took getting here would be just as treacherous to use for a return to Syria, and with added risk. If he tried to cross from rebel controlled territory back into the lands occupied by the Syrian army, he would risk being shot as a traitor or a spy. He is effectively locked out of his homeland with fewer prospects than he had envisioned when he first fled. He can't go forward and he can't go back. He is a man without a country. *I share this story with his explicit permission, so I have done less to mask the details of his life. By Luda Bates
[KS: We asked Luda Bates to share the story of her journey here to the US. As a refugee from the former Soviet Union, her perspective is unique. Her family has gone through hard circumstances, but it is apparent how faithful God has been through them.] My family and I came to America when I was ten years old, but the journey started two years prior. My father had heard from fellow Christians that many were leaving to the US and he decided to try as well. In order to leave, one had to file an application to petition the US government, then fill out an application for each member of the family (including medical and work forms, each with the proper stamps and signatures from local and regional authorities). After sending the application, we waited for an invitation to attend an interview at the US consulate. Because it was still the Soviet Union, getting out was extremely difficult. My father’s friend, a fellow believer, drove 1,500 miles from Estonia to our little city in Russia to pick up the application and later to bring us our visas. The documents were sent to him in Estonia so that the KGB wouldn’t intercept anything. After getting the visas, my parents, not trusting the local postal service, went directly to the US consulate in Moscow to request an interview. Every applicant had to be interviewed by the US consulate in order to gain one of two possible statuses: a refugee or an immigrant. Many Christians became “immigrants” and others, like my family, became “refugees”. If you got the “immigrant” status, you would have to find an American sponsor who would finance your passage to the US, which was impossible. For those of us who got the “refugee” status, the US government paid for our tickets (we would need to pay them back when we were financially able) and provided all financial support when we came; a housing allowance, food stamps, and Medicaid. In order to get the “refugee” status, my parents had to prove that they were persecuted for their religion. As members of the Baptist church, that wasn’t very difficult to do. When he was young, my father was a pilot in the Soviet army, but he became a believer in God and was kicked out. From then, our family lived in Eastern Ukraine and my father worked as a coal miner. When we received our tickets the only thing that my mom could read was “metropolitan area” and she was terrified that we were going to live in a metro. We arrived in New York City and got our next tickets to St. Louis. There are cities in the US that are refugee relocation centers and the US government works with local agencies to resettle refugees. We were placed in the care of the International Institute of St. Louis and they worked with local businesses, schools, churches, landlords, and other organizations to resettle the thousands of refugees that arrived each year. Each state has different programs for resettling refugees, but in Missouri we got a housing stipend for 9 months, giving my parents time to learn English. In order to receive that money, refugees had to take English classes, so the institute was full of foreigners: Russians, Ukrainians, Bosnians, Serbians, Africans, and many others others learning English, and about American customs, holidays and culture. They found my dad a job and helped us to get on our feet. When the US government resettles people, they try to settle people with others that come from similar regions, so there were already a few Russian Baptists in St. Louis, and therefore a church. A local American Baptist church let us use their building to hold services and within a few years the church was full of Slavic people who continued to arrive from the former Soviet Union. Sometime during that first year, someone local found out about my dad’s story and decided to write an article about our family in the St. Louis Journal. A few months later, an American woman saw us taking a picture in the neighborhood, recognized us from the journal and befriended our family. Lenita, a Catholic who worked for the city of St. Louis, petitioned the local parish school to accept us children on scholarships, which was instrumental in giving us a good education, from elementary school to college. She found out about scholarships, helped my siblings and I to find odd jobs kids our age could do. She also helped us talk to potential landlords to make sure no one was taking advantage of us. Along with Lenita, there were other American Christians who helped our family. There was a local man from a Baptist church in the suburbs who took it upon himself to help the Slavic people. From bringing gifts on Christmas, helping us navigate medical jargon, to organizing a VBS in his church for Slavic kids, Don Wilson has been a servant to our people. Growing up in Ukraine, Russia, and the US, I always remember my parents talking about God’s grace and kindness to our family. They never sat us down and explained this to us, but through their conversations with each other and others, the reality of God’s kindness and mercy was like the oxygen that my family breathed. God was merciful: the journey out of the Soviet Union took many years for most, but the process took us two years. God was comforting: though we did not fit in at our private Catholic school, we always had a close group of Russian Christian friends. God was caring: when my father got fired from his job, it led him to a better job and to pursue his dream of being a pilot. When we had murders and death take members of our extended family, even in the midst of that darkness and deep pain, God met us in our need and provided His comfort and presence. Truly, God has been extremely generous and kind to our family. When I think of all of the things that could have gone wrong but didn’t, I can’t help but see God’s generosity. When I reflect on my own life, I see God’s grace and mercy clearly. Even in the midst of the harshness of life from unimaginable sorrow, loss, loneliness, fear, anxiety, uncertainty, and from carrying the burden/gift of being a third-culture kid, I revel in knowing that God has been so loving and kind. I can see God’s mercy to us in our circumstances, but the most kind thing that God has done is lead us to know Him deeper. In the Soviet Union, Bibles had to be smuggled, churches had to register with the government and the ones that didn’t had to meet in secret, and premarital counseling consisted of “don’t be affectionate in public”. In the US, we were overwhelmed with all of the resources available to learn about Jesus, which was like rain on parched lands. Being connected to Russian Christians in a foreign land, getting married to an American man and growing in and being part of his (now our) church has led me to weep at the goodness of our God. He didn’t have to be this kind and generous, but I add my voice to the Psalmist in wonder: “What is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?” God used different people, and global and local events to care for me and our family. I can’t help but be grateful. MK: This is a reposting from a good friend who is working at a refugee camp on a Greek island in the Mediterranean. I got to know Lizzie last summer when we worked together with refugees in Athens. She is a recent college graduate who has devoted her life to serving on the frontlines of the refugee crisis. As I got to know her I was deeply impressed by her courage and sacrifice. This past winter she returned to Greece, but instead of working with refugees that were in the process of moving towards asylum, she is now working with the refugees who are not yet in the system. On the whole, this group of refugees is in a far more difficult place. I asked Lizzie if I could publish two of her most recent updates because they offer a rare window into the frontlines of refugee ministry.
(April 12) Dear Family and Friends, Some days I have grace-filled stories, and many other days I sit empty handed and heavy hearted. This past week has been especially difficult. From hearing more details of friends’ stories to a deeper realization of the hardships of living in this camp: I am burdened. When I was in Athens, I saw many difficult situations, but this camp has a hopelessness unlike anything I’ve experienced before. Many of these men have been here for over a year. They have no information on the status of their asylum claims, they sleep most of the day because there is nothing to do with their time, and the food is limited in portion and nutrition. They are crammed in their living spaces, have limited electricity, and often are treated as criminals by the Greek military and police. Minors are forced to sign papers saying that they are 18 so that the government does not have to protect them or provide additional resources. A man I knew drowned the other week and the police didn’t show up until an hour after the emergency call. Everything in me wants to find them a bright, clean space to live in. With windows and fresh air and real beds. I want to give them access to education and training programs so that they don’t waste months of their life sitting in this camp. I want them to feel respected and to be treated as equal and worthy. I want to feel confident that their current suffering will be worthwhile in the end. But for now, I can keep showing up for my shifts. Cleaning rooms, opening gates, welcoming new arrivals, and sitting and listening. While I cannot make any substantial changes, I can be faithful in my small part. Even when the news stops reporting, these men remain. Even when you have to go out of your way to hear about these camps, thousands sit with their lives on hold. My desire is that a part of my purpose here is to tell their stories, to relay the situation to others back home. The situation is difficult in every way you could imagine. There are no quick fixes or easy answers - but it demands a response, a deep compassion. Whether you feel convicted to show up in person, to donate money or resources, or to advocate back home – I encourage you to not forget these people. Could you keep me in your thoughts and prayers? For strength to keep showing up when my heart feels like it breaks a little more each day? And much more so for my friends who live with intense anxiety and fear of the future - that they could keep going, that they could hold onto hope even when everything seems to suffocate it? Also, I am struggling to figure out my future steps after my time here is finished. Could you pray that doors would be opened for me to stay if that is what is needed, or for new opportunities to present themselves? Lizzie (May 11) Dear Family and Friends, When you’re constantly surrounded by pain, flashes of joy burn bright. I’ve been honest in my updates, resisting the pressure to include a ‘silver lining’ or to sugarcoat the reality in this camp. But I also want to be honest in the tastes of hope I’ve experienced. In the past few weeks more families have moved into M – and my organization regained access to their section of the camp. After weeks of only being able to shake hands and being constantly guarded, getting to scoop up babies and sit with my arm around my new friends is heaven. There are two Syrian families with several teenage daughters that are my new shadows in camp. We giggle and talk about boys and make up and what they want to be when they get older. There are a few toddlers that run straight into my arms and I’ve gained several new ‘mamas.’ The other night I got invited to an engagement party in the compound. I sat with the girls, Arabic music blaring as we fixed each other’s hair and they caked about 10 pounds of eyeliner on me. Paper flowers and streamers decorated the small room filled with gray UNHCR blankets and metal bunkbeds. I was the lone Westerner laughing my way through dabka lessons and pretending like I knew the words to the songs. And as I sat on a cot on the edge of the room, a friend’s little baby asleep in my arms, I watched my beautiful new friends spin and stamp their feet, faces lit up with joy. Here it was – the glimpse of hope, stubborn and resilient in the face of injustice. I felt it in my bones, in my heart – these beautiful people will thrive. And I felt that swell of intense conviction, an understanding that my place is beside them, for them. While there have been situations that have broken my heart all over again the past few days, and that flash of hope seems a little dimmer – it was there. And it is precious and worth sharing. Lizzie By Kevin
For most of us, conversations about refugees are theoretical and abstract – we speak more of them as a group than as individuals – simply because most of us have had little direct contact with refugees. This can make it harder to view refugees as individuals who are image-bearers. We believe that people are made in God’s image. Part of this involves recognizing that others are individuals who think and feel as we do (psychologists refer to this as our theory of mind for other people). A 2017 psychology study showed how our empathy and moral judgments about others can change depending on whether we see them as groups or individuals. Participants were told about a number of individuals going through some experience, and had to rate those individuals on their capacity for experience (“How able are they to feel pain or pleasure?”) and agency (“How able are they to control their actions and act morally?”). Some participants were told about “a group comprised of 15 people” (highlighting the group), while others were told about “15 people in a group” (highlighting the individuals). Participants who rated individuals when their group was highlighted gave significantly lower ratings of the individuals’ capacities for feeling pain/pleasure and acting morally. This result comes from an experimental setting, while our conversations about refugees are often complex and dynamic interactions. However, it does suggest what we know to be true – it is harder to be empathetic for people who are faceless and distant. The converse is also true – it is easier to be moved to compassion for those we know and share space with. There is a clear biblical echo of this in Jesus’ command to “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:31). Neighbors are not faceless groups; neighbors are individuals. “Who is my neighbor?” asked the lawyer, and in response Jesus told the parable of the good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). My neighbor is someone in need that I have access to, and who has a claim on me. In this day and age, technology renders some distance irrelevant – the plight of many refugees in distant lands are accessible to us, and we can provide help that can reach them. But look closer, and we will find refugees (and opportunities to know them) closer to home. The refugee is our neighbor, too. Refugees share similarities (they are all fleeing hardships and are often in great need) but they are also a diverse group of people (with distinct stories and perspectives). In this week’s posts, we will hear from those who have more direct experience with refugees than we do. Let us take the opportunity to listen to them and become more intimately familiar with the stories of refugees, so that we might become empathetic neighbors moved to compassion and action. By Carla Farias
Kevin: I originally invited Mauro and Carla to both to write about their experience leaving Brazil for Mauro’s education here. Mauro was traveling for a conference, as is common for graduate students, so Carla stepped in. While she is now in graduate school as well, she came here initially as Mauro’s dependent. As challenging as it can be for immigrants, the dependents (spouses and children) of immigrants have an even more challenging time. I’m grateful that Carla could share her experience – sojourners sometimes come with loved ones, who we cannot afford to overlook. Three years ago my husband and I moved to Pittsburgh for graduate school. It was an unusual decision, since the two of us had well established careers in our home country, Brazil. Mauro got accepted into the Materials Science and Engineering Doctoral Program at Carnegie Mellon University. Even though I had not been accepted to the programs I had applied to, we knew that the best decision for our family was to go, despite all we had to give up back home. I knew God had a plan for us as a family, especially for me as a wife. So, I moved to a different country for a sabbatical year, where I would re-invent my goals and face new challenges. Being part of the labor force for nearly ten years, a sabbatical year was a big break to my busy schedule and endless working trips. Adjusting to our new lifestyle was not easy for us. As newcomers to the community, Mauro was consumed day and night by his academic activities, while it was left to me to find a place in the community I could fit into. Spouses of international graduate students are much more limited by visa restrictions. As F- 2 visa holders (dependents to F-1 visa holders), we are not allowed to study or work full-time. With this status, I felt invisible and completely unproductive to society. I was allowed only to exist. Nothing else. I was not allowed to have a Social Security number. I was not allowed to rent and sign any utility contracts under my name. Even to get a driver’s license, PennDot had to have verification from USCIS (Citizenship and Immigration Services), since I was also “invisible” to their system. I recall when we entered the country, the Immigration Agent at the airport going over my visa restrictions and asking me, “What are you going to do, sit at home and watch TV all day?” In the early days of us getting to the US, my sabbatical experience turned out to be different from what I imagined. I could not come up with a reasonable answer that would bring peace to my heart. It hit me that I had given up a home I owned, my senior position at a firm, my friends, my family, and even my dog to “sit at home and watch TV all day”. I left my country and my professional life to pursue my husband’s dream at CMU, but I found that I could not eliminate the dreams of my own. And so, I started interacting with professors at CMU and got involved in volunteer research work. Then, I applied again for graduate school and was accepted to be a full-time student in the Masters program at CMU, giving me my own student (F-1) visa. Along with that, we experienced our greatest fulfillment as we now have a new addition to our family, our 3-month-old son, Daniel. And so, God transformed my life. He picked me up from the ground and filled every gap in my professional and personal life, in spite of the challenges and limitations I faced. Because I was once “legally invisible”, I couldn’t just close my eyes to a reality that affected not only me and my household, but also many other spouses of international graduate students. These are women (and men) who are typically well-educated themselves and want to be intellectually challenged. But instead, they end up feeling lonely and lost, just as I did. These spouses look beyond coffee meetings and social gatherings. Like me, they don’t have personalities suited to being locked up at home. I reached out to other wives here as dependents on F-2 visas and helped them design plans for their stay in the US, helping them to find research opportunities and academic programs at CMU that matched their interest, and to initiate conversations with professors and advisors. We brought up to the University the importance of belonging, and the need to embrace this group of spouses to enable personal and academic growth in the school and wider community. As I look back on the past three years, having to reshape my life and face the limitations of my immigrant status was not easy. The feeling of being unproductive and intellectually stagnant was cruel to my mind and soul. But on the other hand, it urged me to find new dreams. I found strength and care in our community group, as we got to know the people from City Reformed. Having new friends in our faith, who prayed for and with me calmed the anxieties and uncertainties of my heart, and refreshed my hope in the Lord’s greater plans for my family and me. Maybe the paths taken were not the easiest, but I can see God’s perfect plan being fulfilled in my life. God honors his children and He honored me, and I could not be more thankful for the changes I had in my life and in my family. My experience has made me a more humble, sensitive, thoughtful, and stronger person. Interview by Kevin
For this post, I interviewed Lucas Saenz. His education and medical career has taken him from Colombia to Pittsburgh, where he also met his wife, Christa. Kevin: How and why did you come to the US? What is your immigrant status? Lucas Saenz: Everything started my first year in medical school back in Colombia in 2001, when I realized that all my medical textbooks were written in the US. That sparked a desire in me to travel to the place where the books were written, to learn about how medicine was practiced there. Around the 5th year of medical school, in 2007, the opportunity came and I travelled to the US for the first time, to Miami. I was 24 years old. A Latin American shadowing program at the University of Miami provided my first one-year visa. In the following years, I travelled back and forth to different cities in the US under different immigrant statuses, such as business travelling visas, student visas, and research scholar visas, which is what I currently have. What are the biggest differences between your life here and your life back home? What challenges do you face from being in a culture you didn’t grow up in? The biggest challenge for me at the beginning was language. I couldn’t express myself or understand others well. Back in Colombia, I thought I knew English, since I had learned it in school since a young age. However, coming to the US made me realize how little I really knew. It wasn’t until I had spent two years here that I felt comfortable with the language and could communicate as I wanted to. The other challenge was knowing no one and losing my social circle. It took a lot of time to get to know people, not only because of the cultural barriers but also because I am an introvert. I moved around the US a lot, which also made it more difficult to build relationships. I was used to moving, since my growing up years were characterized by moving throughout Colombia. However, when doing it in another country, even simple things became difficult. Shopping for food, buying a phone, finding a church – all these were hurdles that had to be faced. One of the nice surprises, though, was that there were always people who were willing to help. Back in Colombia, there were always people around me, whether it was family or friends. We helped each other out all the time. Here, however, I have had to learn to be more independent and individualistic, which has also forced me to become more practical. Not being close to my family and knowing all the time how they are has also been a big difference, not only for me but also especially for my mom, as she worries about me being far from home. This has forced us to strengthen our dependency on God and learn to love in other ways, from a distance. With time, I adapted to the culture and enjoyed my time here. I found a good church, friendships grew, and I was able to assimilate to the workflow. Since coming to Pittsburgh in 2014, I attended Bellefield Presbyterian Church and through that was introduced to PRISM (Pittsburgh Region International Student Ministries). Getting involved with PRISM gave me the opportunity to reach out to other international students who were in similar situations as me, and to share my faith with them. PRISM is a ministry that helps international students feel at home in Pittsburgh. It’s also where you met your wife, Christa. Tell us about that life-change! God changed my life in ways I didn’t expect here in Pittsburgh. Christa and I met in a Bible study hosted by PRISM, and now, two years later, here we are married. My visa status is still related to my work, which adds a little bit of uncertainty. We haven’t been able to visit my family in Colombia yet, since there is a possibility that I wouldn’t be able to reenter the US on the way back. Figuring out my immigration status can be complicated and must be done in the correct timing, but we are thankful to be married and know God will help us in the future as we go through the process. It has been enriching for Christa and I to get to know each other and learn about our backgrounds and what has shaped us as people. Coming from different cultures, there is even more to learn. We learn a lot from each other’s families, customs, different ways of thinking, and even different ways of daily living. It opens our perspectives and broadens our worldview. Of course, this can also bring challenges, as we have to learn how to communicate well and not make assumptions based on our own experiences. You have medical training both in Colombia and the US. Do you have any challenges practicing medicine with that background? There is a long road still to go in my education. Although I already completed 6 years of medical school (3 years of critical care training in Colombia and 3 years working in Pittsburgh), I will need to repeat some of my previous education to become a pediatric cardiologist here in the US. This means that I will need to take several exams and be certified in many fields. Even though it is a lot, it is worthwhile. How has God and the church played a part in your journey? Knowing that there is always a degree of uncertainty in my immigration status has driven me to depend on God. To know my citizenship is in heaven is an idea that has become more real to me. As an immigrant, I’ve faced some difficulty at church connecting with people. The differences between me and many other people that attend church here makes it easy for all of us to form stereotypes and not easily connect. However, I have met many people who are willing to cross those barriers and reach out, and those people have greatly influenced me. What uncertainties do you face as an immigrant in the US, and how do you face that? Since the last presidential elections, fear in internationals has grown, to the point that we restrict our travels outside the US and are even more uncertain about the future. Personally, it causes me to try to do everything according to the right timing and procedures as I move towards applying for a green card and citizenship. As an immigrant, I feel a lot of pressure to work hard, be competitive, and exceed expectations at work to keep my immigrant status. It also gives me a sense of expectancy for what God will bring in the future, since we never know what the future will hold and how things will change. A verse that has been an encouragement to me is Ephesians 2:19: “So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God.” By Evelyn and Kevin
For this post, we interviewed our good friend, Anna Yong, about her experience being an immigrant in the US. Her quotes are in italics. She came here from Malaysia at 17 to pursue an undergraduate education, and met and eventually married her husband Joel Chan here. She started out on a student visa, not expecting that she would still be in the US 11 years later. Although Anna was here first on a student visa (F-1), she transitioned to a dependent visa (F-2) once she graduated and married Joel, who was a graduate student. Later, she decided to begin a Master’s degree in Pittsburgh, requiring that she transition back to student status (F-1). While Anna was legally allowed to be in the country, the government did not issue her a new visa because she had already been in the US and had changed her status from a dependent (based on Joel’s job) to a student who could be here in her own right. In 2013, she wanted to travel home and visit family – having a visa would allow her to re-enter the country if she left. Anna describes a critical irony in the system: “US visas are only issued at embassies outside the US, so we actually had to leave the country to apply for the visa. In other words, to find out if I would be able to re-enter the US (on my own with an F-1 visa), I had to first leave the US – exposing myself to the risk of not getting the visa and being stuck outside the US. Since the visa requirements were the same as the status I already had, we thought this possibility was more theoretical than actual. As we later found out, we were quite wrong!” In early 2013, Anna and Joel travelled to Malaysia to spend time with family and apply for her visa at the embassy in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia’s capital. She describes what happened to her on the day of her visa interview: “I waited about an hour to meet the assigned consulate officer. It quickly became obvious to me that he didn’t really understand my case. He expressed concerns about my ability to fund my education, the most important part of my case. But he overlooked that 1) I had already completed 1 out of the 2 years of my program, 2) I had a scholarship from the school to cover part of my fees, and 3) I was married to Joel who had income that was more than sufficient to cover the remainder of my fees and was obviously covering my living expenses. This last point was the most incredulous to me: when I noted that I was married to Joel, the officer replied that his income “didn’t count” – I needed to show that *I* had enough funds. At this point I started to panic. I was completely at the mercy of the consulate officer. Legally, there was no recourse whatsoever for me if the officer made a mistake – there is no appeal. Further, if the officer denied my application, I couldn’t simply get a “second opinion”: his decision would remain on the record and greatly decrease the probability of a successful re-application. This power imbalance weighed heavily on me: how do I dispute his misunderstandings (of which he was convinced) without angering him? I had heard stories of people having their applications denied because they had rubbed their officer the wrong way, or because the officer had had a bad day. Some of these stories came from family friends who were personal friends with visa officers. So I ended up not disputing the officer’s claims too much, hoping he would be reasonable. This turned out to be the wrong choice. The officer decided to cancel my existing F-2 visa – effectively erasing any ability I had to re-enter the US – and formally requested that I come back to the embassy with more documentation showing that I had at least $25,000 (not including Joel’s income and the scholarship from the university) to cover the remainder of my Master’s degree. I left the embassy in fearful tears.” After returning home, Anna tried to figure out what to do. Her parents offered to help with the financial requirements. Unfortunately, that was not a straightforward solution, either. Anna describes her situation: “Because my parents run their own business, they often don’t have a ton of liquid assets available. But they did have a credit line from their bank that was large enough to cover this expense. So we decided to bring that as additional documentation. I was told that there was no need for an interview; I just needed to “drop off” this additional documentation. When I showed up at the embassy the next day, however, I was brought in for… you guessed it – another interview with the same officer! Being unprepared for that, I was not able to clearly explain how my parent’s credit line worked. The officer pressed me hard, and seemed unconvinced. Again, he didn’t issue me the visa I needed. Thankfully, I wasn't rejected, but the officer told me he needed more time to review my case.” This was a stressful time for Anna and Joel. The severity of the officer’s questions indicated there was a very real chance that Anna’s visa application could be rejected and she could not return to the US with Joel. “Rejection would mean Joel and I would have to live in two different countries for an indefinite period of time while we figured out a solution. Even if that didn’t happen, we were worried I wouldn’t be approved in time for my flight back home, which would mean purchasing another costly (>$1500) flight back to the US. For two long days after that, I waited, shed tears, prayed, and asked for prayers. There was nothing I could do but wait and pray. By the grace of God, our story had a “happy ending”: my visa was approved before our flight back to the US. Even now, as I reflect back on how I was feeling back then, I am filled with joy for the faithfulness of our good God!” Anna now has more stability in her status here, and has even travelled to Malaysia since then without any immigration issues. The story she shared is one instance of the type of stressor that immigrants encounter over and over again. She looks back on her time in the US: “In the 10+ years that I’ve been here, I’ve had to apply for a change/extension of my visa and immigrant status 7 times. About half the time, the process was easy and painless — the other half, not so much! It wasn’t just the application process that was challenging; it was the waiting, the unknown of the person dealing with the application, and my powerlessness over the situation that was so frustrating.” The events since the 2016 presidential election have brought her anxieties into sharper focus. She reflects on her life in the last year: “In this past election season, people have tried to reassure me about our new president’s stance on immigration by saying I have absolutely nothing to worry about because I’m not an illegal immigrant. To be honest, those statements aren’t very reassuring to me. Because of what I’ve been through, I know how incredibly challenging it can be to become and remain a legal immigrant. I have experienced first-hand how it’s possible to become an illegal immigrant even if you’ve done everything right. I know that the mistake of even one government official can negatively impact my chances of gaining/keeping legal status in the country. I’m so incredibly grateful for the opportunity to live in this country, but my journey here has been trying, and I wish people wouldn’t brush me aside when I speak of my concerns. We became adults in this country, and we fell in love with it. We felt called to stay. But wanting to stay and immigrate here legally is complicated (and challenging at times). This is something I wished more people would understand. All that said, as a Christian, I know that our God is bigger than this country’s immigration system or any immigration officer (cue famous Sunday School song). It is by the grace of God alone that my family is able to be alive and well, living in this country. And that grace is worked out in the kindness of His people.” She closes with something she shared with her friends in the US after receiving news of her visa approval: “All of you have been such an amazing source of support for me, and I cannot be more grateful! I'm sincerely thankful for the words of encouragement that I've received from you.. It's been a huge reminder of God's faithfulness, love and grace when I find myself in a dark place. I think, through all of this, I'm more thankful for you guys – my friends and church family – than I am for receiving this visa.” Interview by Kevin
For this post, I interviewed Kate Kim. She’s worshipped at City Reformed since 2015 when she started as a PhD candidate at Pitt. As an immigrant, the stakes are much higher for her in her career path, and requires a great degree of trust in God’s faithfulness for circumstances that many of us easily take for granted. I asked her to reflect on her identity and place in the US. Kevin: What is your immigrant status? Kate Kim: I am currently on an F-1 student visa. I was initially a dependent on my parents’ visas until I turned 21, when I had to switch to my current visa. Tell us you how and why you came to the United States. My family (my parents and younger sister) and I came to the US in 2001. In Korea, it’s everyone’s dream to study abroad, especially in English-speaking countries. Around then, English was mandated as a required subject starting in the 3rd grade in Korean schools, and learning English is very important for one’s success. The Korean education system is highly repressive and highly competitive. So, when there’s an opportunity, people move abroad to English-speaking countries. My parents came to the US for our sake (their children), for us to have a better education and a better life. To do that, my Mom enrolled as a graduate student at a university and got her masters in linguistics; we came to live in the US as dependents on my mom’s visa. How old were you when you moved? What made it easy/difficult to move here? I was 12 when I moved to the US in 2001. This was months before 9/11, so it wasn’t difficult for our family to move to the States, especially because my mom was coming to the US to study. There were, of course, many difficulties in getting accustomed to a new culture. My sister and I were 6 and 12-year olds, so learning English was not a difficulty. We caught up really fast. But for my parents, the language/cultural barrier was hard, and is still hard for them. One thing that was difficult for me in particular, was that I was just becoming a teenager, and because I was culturally split (Korean at home, but trying to assimilate with other kids at school), I had a lot of anxiety and shame from being different from other kids. I couldn’t relate to my peers at the same level of experience, although I spoke English fluently soon after I moved here. While I went to school in the US from 6th grade all the way to graduate school, all under legal status, I am still considered a non-resident alien in the US. While in college, I realized that unlike my other friends, I couldn’t apply for federal loans, couldn’t work part-time jobs anywhere I liked, couldn’t vote, couldn't take a gap year after college (in order to maintain my F-1 status), and couldn’t apply for certain professional schools. This is when I felt most lost and isolated, because in all other aspects I relate to the American culture, but legally, I am not an American. Tell us about your ties to your country of birth, and to the US. What is “home” to you? I’ve lived 12 years in South Korea, and 16 years in the US. The last time I visited South Korea was in 2006, when I was in high school. So, I don’t remember Korea very much…the memories I have are from my childhood, and I’m sure so much has changed in the last decade. So, when I think of “home”, I’m conflicted. Where is home for me? A few years ago, my parents got their greencards, sponsored by their work. At that time, my sister was 18, and I was 24. The law states that for immigration purposes, once you turn 21, you are no longer a dependent, so my sister got her green card through my parents, while I didn’t. My parents and my sister are now on their path to US citizenship, and plan to make their “home” here. However, I am still on a student visa, and need to find my own way to permanent residency. In a few months, I will graduate and be a scientist with a PhD in the biomedical sciences. However, it is now difficult to get a work-related visa (H-1B) even in a science field. This makes my path to getting a green card much harder. I was hoping to do my post-doctoral research in the US while on an H-1B visa, meanwhile applying for permanent residency. However, this road has gotten tougher now. What challenges do you face living in a country that is not your own? How do you deal with them? Because I am bicultural, there have been many conflicts. Because I’ve spent more time in America than I have in Korea, I am more familiar with the American way of life. However, I can’t be a full part of it, because there are always restrictions on nonresident aliens for school and job applications. And of course, I cannot vote here. So, I am always culturally split. I haven’t been able to visit Korea for more than a decade because I was on my student visa (some students like myself take a risk in visiting their home countries because there’s no guarantee we will be granted visas to return to the US to complete our studies). I have no connections in Korea besides my relatives. So, with this confused cultural identity, I’ve learned to rely more on my identity in God’s Kingdom. I’ve been instilling in myself that whichever country God intends for me to live, my identity in God’s Kingdom is constant, and that gives me comfort. How has the 2016 presidential election and the current administration affected your life as an immigrant? The calls to decrease immigration and the number of H-1B visas being granted* make me nervous, because my plan was to get an H-1B visa for post-doctoral studies, and eventually apply for permanent residency. What do you wish people understood about your journey as an immigrant? Even though I’ve lived legally and paid taxes in the US for 16 years, I was disqualified from getting permanent residency together with my family a few years ago, just because I was over over 21 years of age. My younger sibling who had the same experience as I did in the US was granted permanent residency, because she was younger than 21. I am back to the start in my immigration journey – only this time, I am alone. The road to permanent residency has gotten more difficult, even for US-educated scientists like myself. I hope to be able to stay in the US with my family, but I also understand that God may have something else planned. And I trust that whatever may come of my immigration journey here in the US, God’s plans prevail, and for his good purposes. * Even if current numbers are maintained, H-1B visas are already extremely hard to get. – Kevin By Melanie Hommes
[Evelyn: In the discussion about immigrants, some types of immigration can sometimes get overlooked. We asked the Hommes family to share their story of how their unique experience with immigration changed their lives. Jim and Melanie Hommes have gone through the difficult process of international adoption twice, and have gained two wonderful children – Mei and Jacob – into their family. We sent some questions and prompts to Melanie, and she wrote the following response.] We are a diverse multi-ethnic family both in our immediate and extended families, having family members from Japan, China, and Mexico. In fact, our children like to joke that dad was born in Japan (as a missionary kid), they were born in China, but mom was only born in Ohio! International adoption was the way that God provided for us to have a family. We went through the immigration process to bring Mei and Jacob to the United States. The international adoption process changed the year that we adopted Mei (2004) and was still in effect when we adopted Jacob (2012). There were a lot of forms, official documents, special notarized seals, fingerprinting, and interviews – all before we left United States soil. Once in China there were more forms to fill out, more interviews to undergo, and sworn statements that we would always love and care for our children. Then, the legal adoption took place, and finally we received the official brown envelope which was to be guarded at all costs and delivered intact and unopened to airport immigration officials when our airplane touched down on US soil. If the official brown envelope instructions were followed correctly, it meant that our children became automatic citizens the moment our airplane landed in the United States. After months (for Mei) and years (for Jacob) of paperwork and interviews, citizenship papers arrived in the mail within 45 days of our return home from China. Mei and Jake were babies when we adopted them, aged 13 and 18 months respectively. As we raise our children, we desire that they will have an appreciation and respect for the three countries – Japan, China, and the US – that make up our lives. We fill our home with books, movies, pictures, and stories of all three places, eat a variety of foods, and celebrate some Asian festivals like Chinese New Year. We talk often of the time we have spent in each country, and have picture albums to look at from our trips. As a family, being multi-ethnic is a natural way of life as my sister and her husband adopted a girl from China, Jim’s younger siblings are adopted from Japan, and his older sister is married to a man who immigrated from Mexico. It is important for us that the time Mei and Jacob spend at school and at church show the richness of diversity and the richness of adoption. We have been blessed by Pittsburgh Urban Christian School (PUCS) and its commitment to diversity and reconciliation as well as the presence of many adopted children who have shared life with us there. At church, it is a blessing that our children can see so many men and women from Asia worshiping and serving God. When Mei and Jacob were young they would sometimes comment excitedly that there were people at church that looked just like them. While some people have experienced negative repercussions from the 2016 presidential election and its aftermath, our immediate family has not felt them. However, we have felt the difficulty as we join in supporting family members and friends who are more directly impacted by immigration practices and policies, and who may face opposition, delay, and fears of deportation. Even with our immediate family, for the last few years we have begun carrying everyone’s passports when flying within the United States. We started doing this because we don’t all look alike – what if an official didn’t believe that we are a family? In addition, my sister and her family live in Canada, and when they crossed the border to visit us at Easter, in addition to my niece’s passport, they brought her birth certificate and adoption certificate, due to hearing stories of families being separated at borders. This is also something for us to consider when we travel across borders or when we fly domestically. So far, in Pittsburgh, we have not felt any specific negativity toward us as a multi-ethnic family, although we have occasionally experienced some negative reactions as we travel to other places. Both God and the church have played a big part in our family’s adoption story. God brought us together as a family through adoption just as He adopts each one of us into His family. Though there are relatively few adopted children at City Reformed, the church has embraced our children and welcomed them as the covenant children that they are. As Christians, we should embrace adoption – international or domestic – as a valuable part of building the household of God. In many ways, adoption demonstrates not only God’s generous provision for his children, but it also gives the church a visible reminder that ultimately the strongest and most lasting bonds between us are not of blood, ethnicity, or nation, but of faith in our loving Father who has chosen to adopt us as eternal heirs with Christ. By Kevin
Telling one’s story is an art form; we pick and choose what to include to communicate particular aspects of ourselves. We do this based on who is asking, and what we perceive they’re interested in knowing about us. For immigrants, we are frequently asked how and why we got to the US – it is a door for others to know us. In my first year in Pittsburgh, I got plenty of practice telling that story. At City Reformed, we’re blessed with a significant number of immigrants, each with their own stories. My own story has been shared in a previous post by my wife. In the coming posts, we invite you to read to the stories of those who have experienced what it is like to be or walk alongside immigrants. We invite you to listen, and to better know the sojourners (in many cases, these are people you share communion with). You may know them, or of them, but we invite you to listen not just for the details of their experience (which you may have heard before), but for the unique loves, burdens, challenges, and perspectives that are revealed in the telling of their stories. Since the 2016 presidential election, telling an immigrant’s story can take on added dimensions. I have found that my upon hearing my story and any anxieties I have about immigration, some quickly dismiss my concerns because “I’m one of the good ones” (someone coming here for graduate study). In such an exchange, my story has been used to make a point, which makes it hard to feel like the hearer cares about knowing me and seeing things from my perspective. In this polarized culture (that we’ve written about previously), it is worth reflecting on whether we have acquired some bad habits for listening. To hear someone’s story and see only how it supports or disproves a belief is to miss the chance that someone has offered to know them better. We invite you to view these stories as doors through which you can better know others. In this day and age, it is exceedingly rare to share fellowship with those who differ from us, but the church offers us that invaluable opportunity by joining those of every nation and tribe into one body. We cannot know the fullness of human experience without the help of others who are willing to share their stories. By Rev. Matt Koerber
Week 1: Foundational Thoughts Week 2: Immigration Policy Week 3: Voices of Immigrants (City Reformed) Week 4: Refugees Week 5: Engaging Islam Week 6: Reaching Across Barriers Last week, we discussed immigration policy. This week, we will turn our attention to the voices of the immigrant community in our midst. Because City Reformed is located in the university community of Pittsburgh, we have a large number of international students in our midst. We will be interviewing members of City Reformed to discuss their own experience with immigration. “You shall not oppress a sojourner. You know the heart of a sojourner, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt.” (Exodus 23:9) There are a couple of things that we learn from this commandment. First, the command to “not oppress a sojourner” assumes that it would be tempting to do this very thing. A sojourner or an immigrant is a person who works and lives in a foreign country. They do not have extended social networks to help them in times of trouble. They also may have difficulties speaking the language or navigating the culture. They may not have access to all of the legal protections that native born citizens would have. For that reason, it is easy for them to be oppressed. Secondly, this commandment was given by God, through Moses, to an exile community. The tribes of Israel had been recently delivered from bondage in Egypt. They came as guests to live with their brother Joseph, four centuries earlier. But the favorable policy changed. A new pharaoh was on the throne and things were hard. They had been severely oppressed in Egypt. Moses speaks to this experience and reminds them that they know what it is like. As an exile community they knew what it was like to be a sojourner. They could easily relate to the situation because of their own experience. The problem that we have is that our experience is often quite different. Our own individual experience does not allow us to know the “heart of a sojourner” from personal experience. In this matter we are different from the original audience (those who experienced the exodus first-hand), but we are similar to many of the people who have read this text down through the ages. Together with the four other books of Moses, this forms the Pentateuch, which is the foundational law for the nation of Israel. The laws which God gave were given in the context of the Exodus, but they continued to carry weight for all of the following generations. It is clearly not the intention of Moses to suggest that the command would no longer apply once people forgot their own personal exile experience. We are left to conclude that the way in which this command was meant to be applied is through appeal to the “collective experience” of the community and not individual experience. That is, if we want to know about the heart of the sojourner we can either experience exile or immigration… or, we can listen to the experience of others in our community. With that in mind we will spend this week listening to the voices of immigrants in our church. Through that we may be better equipped to understand “the heart of the sojourner.” By David Snoke
MK: We hadn’t scheduled blog posts for Sundays, but in the flurry of activity this week we ended up with an extra post – so we are slotting it in as a “special Sunday edition.” This post addresses the challenges of migratory movements by looking at a classic American novel (and movie), “The Grapes of Wrath.” While the people movements in the story are not strictly “immigration” – the characters are all Americans – it provides a window into the dynamics we have been exploring. The story is a work of fiction, but it reflects real historical events in our country. Sometimes, fiction can offer a window into real world problems. John Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath is one of the great novels of all time, and also one of the great novels of migration and social justice. It tells the story of poor Scotch-Irish farmers from Oklahoma (“Okies”) who migrated westward to California in the 1930s. The mass influx of these people created a social disaster for several years, as wages were extremely depressed, jobs were hard to find, and a wave of starvation and homelessness followed. A main theme is how the family structure that could support people through hard times can be scattered to the wind by the overwhelming pressures of migration. Steinbeck, a socialist, partly used the story to argue for government social services. The people of California are not especially welcoming of the Okies, and don’t take responsibility to help them. A high point of the story occurs when the main characters, the Joads, find an efficiently run government project to help them. This may seems somewhat quaint to modern eyes, but it addresses a real issue, namely what to do when private charity isn’t sufficient. Another theme is the existence of social evils, forces that make it hard for any one person to do what is right. The main social evil in the story starts when farmers in California advertised widely in Oklahoma to attract workers for their fields. Pressed by natural disaster in their home land (the “dustbowl”), the Okies migrated in great numbers. By the economic law of supply and demand, this suppressed the wages in California drastically. Steinbeck makes it clear that part of the social injustice comes from the farmers in California being happy about the vast number of immigrants suppressing the wages. They had incentives to encourage the migration of the Okies, as it gives them cheap labor. What can we apply from this book for today? On one hand, it seems clear that the role of the church and the individual in California at that time was to help the immigrant Okies as much as possible. To allow them to die in the streets and fields, as Steinbeck portrays, is heartless. On the other hand, we could also take a step back to question the structural aspects of the situation. How do we address the incentives that businesses have to attract cheap labor and suppress wages? Were there alternatives to the situation that played out in the Grapes of Wrath? Would a more just society have worked to improve conditions in Oklahoma, rather than encourage the breakup of families and cultural structures that so often occurs in precipitate migrations? Steinbeck’s novel, remote from our present lines of argument, may help us with a different perspective. By Rev. Matt Koerber
For this post, I interviewed two pastor friends in Pittsburgh. Jon Price and Alejandro (Alex) Martinez are pastors at Covenant Community Church (PCA) in Pittsburgh. In addition to being pastors, they are also family – Alex married Jon’s sister, which led to their friendship. Their church has a vibrant ministry to Hispanics in the Northwestern Pittsburgh suburb of Cranberry. This ministry provides a window into a the little known (but rapidly increasing) world of Hispanic immigration in Pittsburgh. Alex recently completed seminary and pastoral training. He will be ordained as a minister this coming Sunday evening. I recently conducted a phone interview with them and was thankful for their many insights. I opened the conversation by giving them both some background to the blog and then I asked Alex how long he has been in Pittsburgh and how he came to work at Covenant Community. AM: I have been here for almost 5 years. I grew up in Mexico City, but had a scholarship to study in Texas for high school. I returned to finish my college degree in Mexico and met some missionaries who were working for MTW (Mission to the World, the PCA sending agency). I worked with them helping with ministry, and when a good friend moved to Guadalajara they asked me to join them as a liaison to the Hispanic community. We helped to start a nonprofit organization addressing poverty in the community. This included medical care and literacy classes. Praise God, we helped to establish a church and a daycare and kindergarten were also formed. Alex’s trajectory began to change when his missions team hosted a group from Covenant Seminary. The future dean of Covenant, Mark Dalby, met Alex and recruited him to study at Covenant Seminary – they even had Alex live in their home. Alex was interested in ministry and after two years, he moved to Virginia for a ministry position. It was there that he married Jon’s sister and through that connection became aware of a job opening in Pittsburgh. I asked Jon how this came to happen. JP: I was driving around Cranberry one day and I took a different route, passing through a neighborhood that I didn’t normally see. I noticed 5-6 Hispanic families outside the house as their kids came home from school. This coincided with another visit to a local park where I stopped and watched a very serious soccer game of all Hispanic players. It dawned on me that there were these families and people in our community that I hadn’t noticed before. At the time, we had two part-time ministry positions in our church – Alex came to mind and the church was open to the idea. I can’t honestly say that my initial desire to bring Alex on was part of a goal of establishing a Hispanic ministry in our church. I was trying to meet the needs of our church, but the Lord showed me pretty quickly that was not his ultimate goal. I asked Jon about the Hispanic community in Pittsburgh. It is not as visible as other places where I have lived – Boston or North Carolina. Often, we assume that Pittsburgh has been missed by national trends in Hispanic immigration. JP: I think that we tend to be blind to this. Immigrants in general are on the fringes, and the majority culture doesn’t typically look on the fringes. For example, the neighborhood that I drove through that day is easily missed. But, within 10 minutes of our church, the expected growth of Hispanics is 5% per year. That is the highest increase of any people group in our area. It is a very fast growth rate. One reason that the community is not as noticeable is because it is diversified – with regard to the areas in which people work. By contrast, in other big cities, immigrants may be grouped in one industry. I asked Alex what factors were driving this recent growth rate of Hispanics in Pittsburgh and what we could know about the people. AM: It is very different in each case. Many Hispanics come in the summers to do landscaping. They come with a work permit and stay for the summer. You find different types of people. Some are fleeing poverty or unrest, others are chasing the American dream. It is hard to perceive them, and hard to know when to count them. Generally, we would find people from the higher class have permits and those from the lower class are less likely to have legal status. Generally speaking, but interestingly enough, the lower-income people are more open to the Gospel and coming to Bible studies. Alex told me about some Hispanic men that he knows who have recently come to Pittsburgh to start working in the roofing industry. This caught my ear because of a recent post in which we focused on immigrant workers in the construction industry. Essentially, these men had come here because the wages were better and they could compete more favorably in this market where there was a smaller supply of workers. (In contrast, the California roofing industry was flooded with Hispanics.) I asked the hard question about how we think about the negative impact that this can have on the American workers already here. JP: That is a hard question. There are issues there on both the employer and employee side… the immigrant community gets caught in the middle. They would say, “I need to support my family. I’m willing to do what it takes to do that. If this guy is willing to hire me, I am going to take it.” It strikes me that this history is not new to Pittsburgh. It was played out over the generations as immigrants from Europe flooded the three rivers area. The history of organized labor – we can think particularly of the Homestead strike – was inflamed by these difficult questions. This led us to another challenging and difficult question. What is the legal status of the immigrants who come to Pittsburgh, and how should we think about that? I raised the topic and probed into this challenging area. AM: Most often, workers in white-collar jobs have their paperwork in order. By contrast, those who work in labor intensive jobs are often not documented. JP: Their legal status contributes to them being willing to take less money. The company can save money on benefits and take advantage of the situation. Jon continued to reflect on the challenges of this situation. JP: A lot of undocumented immigrants came here as children, through no choice of their own. They have been in the U.S. for many years, and they need to provide for themselves and their families. That group of immigrants is probably the ones who truly get caught in the middle. They have no legal standing, but have to work, so they may undercut the job market, but what else are they supposed to do? From my understanding it is one of the largest groups of illegal immigrants that we have in our country – perhaps as many as 15-30 million. Our biggest issue is how we respond to that group. I asked Alex about how the political controversies about immigration have been impacting the Hispanic community. He told me that a lot of people are feeling more vulnerable. Public expressions of dislike have become more common and many workers are afraid of the authorities and more vulnerable to being taken advantage of. He relayed two stories to illustrate. AM: One of the guys who is a friend, is a Latino who has lived here for years. Recently, he felt the shifted tone of public opinion even in Pittsburgh. Someone spit on his face and said, “Go back to your country.” He told me, “That never happened here in Pittsburgh, before. We had heard of it in other places, but not here. What is happening?” I think that when people hear immigrants being called names in public and in politics they start to act different. I have another case, from another lady who is attending the church. She was working in a restaurant and her boss wanted to take advantage of her sexually, or he threatened to fire her. She had to quit and leave without pay. She was afraid to go to the authorities. She said, “This never happened before. I know that I’m not legal so I can’t ask for protection from the government because I fear being kicked out.” Knowing that we aren’t going to solve all of these problems in one interview or one blog post I asked about how their church was trying to serve in the midst of this situation. JP: Alex has become a social worker! They both laughed at this and Alex expanded: AM: Praise God, we have some connections to the city of Pittsburgh. Many of the social workers don’t speak Spanish and they found out that we have Spanish speakers at the church, so they ask us to help out. For example, there is a refugee couple from Cuba – they speak no English at all. They came to Pittsburgh while they were still waiting for their visa and they needed many things. For about a year, we have helped them – finding a place to stay, getting their driver’s license, just figuring out how to go to the store. JP: This particular experience with this Cuban couple really had an impact on our church. They saw the real visible needs and began to engage in ways that we had never even thought of before. The congregation is excited to serve. A couple of people have begun to explore ways to help them navigate immigration policies. One is considering a masters in ESL. The deacons are really active. 3-4 years ago we would not have been having these conversations. AM: Many people from the church are coming to take classes on learning Spanish. They want to learn so that they can communicate with our new visitors. I asked them how this changed the Sunday worship service. JP: Some Sundays we are getting close to 20% Hispanic attendance, which many see as a tipping point for how a minority culture feels as it is part of the congregation. Practically speaking, they have many in attendance each Sunday who do not know English. AM: We have headsets for people who don’t speak English. I translate everything, from announcements to the benediction. We introduce one Spanish song each month. Fully in Spanish, with words and Latin music and Latin feeling. Interesting, many of the guys who come here do not have Protestant backgrounds. But, they sense that we care about them and they feel welcome. People are open. Jon told me that several people have expressed faith in Christ at an outreach Bible study that Alex has been leading. He also told me that this ministry is impacting the church as a whole. He believes that because his church is immersed in Hispanic ministry, they are able to navigate the challenging topics with more compassion. In the midst of a hard time, God is working out his purposes. There have been bumps along the road and more challenges lie ahead. But as native English-speakers and native Spanish-speakers gather for worship we get a glimpse of God’s kingdom. The nations are streaming to the mountain of God. Jon concluded this way: JP: This is an actual visible representation of the gospel at work. By Rev. Matt Koerber
For this post, I interviewed Andy Alexander. Andy is an elder at City Reformed Church and the owner of an engineering consulting firm. Andy has been working in the computer/tech industry since the late 1980’s and is able to share about how this industry has been impacted by immigration over time. In this post, we are discussing “legal immigration”, almost exclusively. But as usual – it is complex. MK: What is the impact of immigration to the US in the technical world? AA: There’s been immigrants for decades in the technical world. A large part of the US space program in the 50’s and 60’s, after WW II, was populated by Germans. In the 1990’s, immigration law was changed to increase the number of temporary visas (H1B’s) for people with technical skills. To obtain one, an employer is supposed to justify that an open position could not be filled from people already in the US. Also, H1B’s are a special kind of temporary visa with an intentional path to obtaining a “green-card”, allowing work in the US without a need for repeated renewal of that permission. In my experience, it is typical that people admitted under H1Bs are from India and have less experience in their field. They are also mostly people with a background in software or IT. MK: Are most of these people here legally? AA: Yes. I haven’t heard of anyone in the US working illegally in this area. MK: How has this affected you? AA: The earliest I remember working with people here on an H1B was in the mid to late 1990’s at Union Switch and Signal. This was at a time when demand for software skills was very high – the Y2K crisis was in full swing as was the growth in internet and PC application software. The people I met and worked with at the Switch were good friends, with families. Towards the end of my time there, I did sense the competition from India. The company was always looking for ways that they thought it would be cheaper to get things done. Contractors, on a sponsored H1B, were one way. My career path took me in a direction away from that company where there was less of this kind of competition for a while. Even at this new company, after a while I did see the increased push for more hires along with an unwillingness to spend as much on people as they might have otherwise. Since leaving that position and starting a consulting company, I am acutely aware of the competition. A good part of the work my company does requires access to specialized hardware as part of a product development process. This is one of the ways that we compete against lower cost engineering services. Still, I have a need to explain why the rate a potential client might be paying for someone isn’t always going to lead to the lowest cost for a completed project. MK: How is this different than other professional fields? AA: Unlike lawyers and doctors, engineers have not maintained the same legal protections. At least in Pennsylvania, to advertise yourself as an Engineer, you must have a Professional Engineer’s license. Over time, the need for this license in many fields has diminished. Typically, a licensed engineer is only needed in things such as building design and construction, power distribution and chemical plants. MK: What about outsourcing/offshoring? AA: In the late 90’s and early 2000’s, cultural barriers made it difficult to successfully finish software development work outside of the US. One of the methods used by some companies providing offshored services is to place one of their workers at the client’s site. This person provides the direct interaction with the client and then relays the necessary information to the people working in the primary office of the supplier. MK: Since the availability of labor directly impacts wages (supply/demand) some people would be in favor of protecting the market. How do you think about the role that the government should have in limiting the labor force? AA: I’m not sure, exactly. Clearly, all governments are involved in limiting and regulating trade. Consider the concept of “Free Trade Agreements”. If trade was going to be completely free, a free trade agreement would be a simple one liner: “we won’t have any restrictions or tariffs on goods or services between our two countries.” Differences in taxation and other preferences for certain kinds of businesses within a country make this simplicity impossible. My main point in all of this is the complexity of the issue. Adding people to the available pool is good for employers because it reduces the salary they need to pay. On the other hand, it reduces the opportunities and incentives to enter the field. By Rev. Matt Koerber
I asked John Standridge to tell me about his life in Texas. John is a PCA pastor and a good friend from our time in Boston. He is a native of Texas and returned several years ago to work with a church plant. Although John doesn’t literally live on the U.S.-Mexico border, he lives a couple of hours’ drive away. More importantly, the community that he lives in is a “border crossing culture” with a significant Hispanic population. Many of the issues that seem distant to Pittsburghers are part of his everyday reality. MK: You told me that you live only a few hours from the U.S.-Mexico border. How does immigration affect the makeup of your community? Are most immigrants in your community from Mexico? JS: Yes. We live a little less than 250 miles from the border city of Ciudad Acuna, which is in the state of Coahuila. It's kind of challenging to talk about our community in terms of the usual associations we have with immigration, for the simple reason that we live in a part of the world which was for so long part of another country (most recently Mexico). As someone once told me, "My people never moved. It's the border that moved." This creates quite a different community dynamic from, say, Boston, Houston, or New York, which represent opportunity magnets for peoples all around the world. While the immigrant demographics of Cambridge, MA (where I used to live) was wildly diverse, it was that way because of the attraction of the universities, business opportunity, etc. In the town I live in, which is about one-third Hispanic (almost entirely of Mexican heritage), the connection is ancestral (i.e. they've always been here), familial (they come because they have family here), or economic (they’ve come to earn money to send back home). MK: Do people tend to move back and forth across the border quite a bit or is it hard to do that? Once people arrive in the U.S. do they typically stay for good? JS: People still go back and forth quite a bit. On the one hand, the back and forth is just the normal shopping/visiting family stuff that's always gone on. Any time we go to the mall in San Antonio (about an hour southeast of here), the parking lot has a good number of cars with Mexican license plates from some of the adjacent Mexican states (Coahuila and Tamaulipas mostly). At the same time, crossing is much harder than it used to be. Prior to 9/11 you didn't need a passport to cross the border. It was common to pop across for lunch, shopping, visiting friends and family with barely a nod to immigration authorities on either side. The realities that have come in the wake of 9/11 as well as the ascendence of the drug cartels has changed that immensely. I went across recently into a little town called Nuevo Progresso (south of Welsaco, TX, in Tamaulipas), and it was a breeze going into Mexico, but coming back was pretty onerous. There are not only tightened borders, but Border Patrol/immigration checkpoints at various spots along I-10 within the U.S, this has been pretty controversial but it makes the point that this country is very much vigilant about drug trafficking/illegal immigration. Because of this, illegal immigration is actually way down. My sense is that most people who come, come for stints of time, to earn a little money, with plans to return. There are, however many who have come and stayed, managing to function pretty well. This can get pretty complicated in the course of life. Some are illegal, but have children here. Many work in family businesses or even businesses that they have started. Many of them pay taxes, despite their illegal status. A lot of this stuff is changing in the current climate. There are a few local restaurants I frequent, and I have noticed since the election that they are down in staffing, with many of the regular employees no longer there. The rumor is that they were undocumented, and have now either returned to Mexico or decided to stay out of the public eye. MK: From your perspective how do the lines between documented and undocumented immigrants break down? JS: I have no idea what the percentages are, and I think it would be a hard thing to find out. There is nothing in place that would keep families from enrolling their kids in school, there are job opportunities, there are family connections, all of which make it less obvious who is documented and who is not. MK: In what ways does the presence of immigrants impact the community as a whole? JS: From a cultural standpoint, it certainly makes it richer. In other ways, it creates tension. The Anglo and Mexican-American communities coexist in our town, but there is little evidence of seeking connection. Apart from the school system, which necessitates integration, we are divided in the parts of town we live in, cultural values, where we worship, and in many cases, by language. I don't know if you're familiar with Colin Woodard's book "American Nations," but our little town of Kerrville, TX sits right on the fault line of "Greater Appalachia" and "El Norte." Greater Appalachia is largely born out of a Scots-Irish culture, suspicious of those perceived as outsiders, where identity is rooted in a kind of "warrior ethic" bolstered by a strong sense of personal sovereignty and independence. "El Norte" is the oldest of the American nations, running along the borderlands of the old Spanish colonial empire that took root in the late 16th century. This culture is more community-oriented, but in such a way that it values fierce independence, self-sufficiency, and hard work. While there is certainly tension between these communities, the deeper concern is how readily dismissive they can be of each other. Of course, there is also this deep irony in that those communities that are now cast as unwelcome/illegitimate (the Mexican-American culture) preceded the culture that is now in power. If you were to visit the Alamo in San Antonio, you would see that the defenders of it were an incredibly international group, but it seems to me that they cohered around a common enemy, more than a common interest. MK: How does the Hispanic community relate to the dominant culture? What term do people use to describe the "white American culture"? JS: Not being an insider of that culture, this is a hard one for me to answer. One thing that should be pointed out is that in many places in our region, the Anglo culture is not the dominant culture. In our community, which is about one-third Hispanic, on one level, you could be encouraged by the level of integration. The public life of our city churns with a mix of people going about their day, getting along, commonly contributing to its life in commerce, education, public service. On the other hand, my sense is that there is at best a reluctance to venture past the cultural bounds, and probably a pretty deep suspicion of the Anglo culture. This is lamentable, but to some degree understandable given not only the history, but the current climate especially in politics which are charged with fear-mongering related to immigration related issues. MK: As a pastor, how do you try to interact with these issues in your ministry? JS: In one sense, in my capacity as a minister of word and sacrament I continually unearth inescapable biblical themes that supremely bring to bear reconciliation, of being called together into Christ as "one new people," comprised of "every tribe, tongue, and nation." I see that at the heart of how we think about our relationship with God has immediate and palpable implications for how we relate to our neighbors. As Christians we are urged to remember our former alienation and hostility toward God and others, to the end that we would relish the grace that reconciled us not only to God, but has now related us to those we once despised and were suspicious of. I love Peter's phrase, that we are "elect exiles," called to love the home we've been called to for the time we're here, but to never lose sight of our fundamental loyalty to the Kingdom of God. This is not an easy issue to interact with in our context. I have people in my life who would celebrate a mass-deportation initiative, and I have others who have illegal immigrants in their family and are scared about what might happen to them. It seems to me that God has called me to sit in the tension of that, trusting the power of the gospel to change hearts, patiently pursuing folks even as I have been (and continue to be) patiently pursued by my faithful Savior. By Matt Koerber
For this post, I interviewed my uncle, Jim Koerber, who has been a contractor in Asheville North Carolina since the early 1980’s. I worked for Jim for parts of several summers when I was in high school and college. He became a good friend and mentor to me during that time. I wanted to interview Jim because the construction field in North Carolina is dominated by immigrant workers and because I knew that he is a thoughtful Christian who would want to reflect on these issues from a biblical perspective. I spoke to Jim about this project a few weeks ago and called him recently while he was driving around between jobs. (By Matt Koerber) Jim grew up in Pittsburgh and has a good perspective on how job markets can vary from region to region. In spite of our rich history of immigration, Pittsburgh hasn’t seen the waves of Hispanic immigrants that other parts of the country have received. I know from personal experience that when I worked with him 20 years ago, most of the roofers were Mexicans. By contrast, when I interviewed roofers in Pittsburgh 7 years ago, none of the crews had significant numbers of immigrants working for them. I asked Jim how things were different in North Carolina: JK: “Pittsburgh is a highly unionized market and people are also very protective of the construction jobs that are there. In the South, they have ‘right to work laws’ and there is not as much of a union presence. Pittsburgh is a city of immigrants (going back to the early 20th century), but it was very different historically in the South. For example, you rarely meet someone with a Polish name in this part of the country. Most families have Northern European heritage.” But all of that began to change at the end of the 20th century. Waves of migrants from Mexico began to enter the region’s job markets. The construction market was particularly affected. I asked Jim what this looks like: JK: “I would say that a lot of framing crews are now totally Hispanic. Only 10 or 15 years ago that would have not been as much the case. If you had a Hispanic crew framing your house, people would assume that it was not built well. But that has changed. Hispanic workers are now viewed as viable workers in that field. It is the same with the roofing crews, or even more so. Most drywall crews are mostly Mexican. They have to work their butts off – it is a grind. Americans who are willing to do it expect to make a lot of money. Mexicans are willing to grind it out for less. Some crews are owned by Mexicans; you can see the names on the truck. Often the foreman is an American, but he may hire all Mexicans to work for him.” By contrast, some parts of the construction field are still done by American workers. Electricians, plumbers and mechanical workers are mostly American. I asked him where most immigrants were from: JK: “The majority of immigrants are Hispanic, by far. There are increasingly a lot of Guatemalans, but I would say that 90% are Mexican, 5% other Hispanics and then 5% from other places like the Ukraine. We have seen a lot more Ukrainians here, they have a reputation for being good with woodwork.” We talked about the ways in which competition from immigrant workers can undercut wages. “In my experience, immigrants will often be willing to work for less money. They might charge $18/hr instead of the $20/hr that Americans would want. The Americans really want $22/hr and they were getting $25/hr 10 years ago (before the market crashed). They may undercut wages, but it is not typically as much as you think. Here is the thing, if they live here and their kids go to school here, with American kids – they end up being more American than Mexican. The kids are U.S. citizens and they speak English much better than Spanish. The kids end up with really no experience of Mexico. They want the same stuff that American kids want. They all have to pay rent and buy food at American prices. They might live less expensively, but it is not that much different.” I asked him whether workers were typically documented or not. As we discussed it, I began to appreciate the complexity of the situation. I learned that most workers have a number that they can give to their boss that allows a form of quasi-legality. Sometimes the number is a green card number, and sometimes it is a social security number. Sometimes the number is legitimate, and sometimes it is not. Some workers that he knows have been here for decades, but they are still undocumented. We discussed the impact that this had on the job market. JK: “I think that the ongoing undocumented status for a lot of workers has a real negative effect on the economy. It makes it hard for them to negotiate fair wages and the boss is tempted to pay them less than an American. Unless they have a legal right to be here, their employer has the ability to manipulate the situation for their own benefit. A lot of time I see people being treated like (mere) tools and not as someone who is made in the image of God.” But it is not just Americans who feel the competitive pressure. Jim told me a story about a Mexican friend, C, who has worked alongside him in the construction field for 20 years. Sometimes crew members will go back and forth to different crews, and recently Jim’s own kids were working for C on a job. He told them how mad he was about recent migrations of Mexicans from South Carolina. He said, “Those Mexicans from South Carolina keep coming up here. They don’t charge enough and they lower everyone’s wages!” I asked him how he thought American workers responded to this situation and then the interview started to get really interesting. Jim had just arrived at the job site and started to talk with the plumbers who were subcontracted for the job. JK: “This is my nephew from way up in ‘Yankee land.’ He is writing some things online to try to get people to talk about immigration in helpful ways. He is asking how people down here feel about immigrants.” Kevin and Mike, two plumbers on the job, seemed more than willing to weigh in. I could hear their distinctly Southern accents as they spoke into Jim’s cell phone. One of them said, “In general, it is basically this: if they are legal we don’t care. If not, then it does kind of ruffle feathers. I can get along with anybody I know. The bottom line is that I don’t like it if they don’t pay their taxes.” ** The other plumber chimed in as well, “I don’t think that there is a whole lot of resentment between Mexicans and Americans. We get a kick out of working with most of these guys. We have a lot of back and forth jokes going on. But I don’t like it when they don’t learn English. I mean, if I went to France I would learn to speak French. Most of these guys pick up enough English just by being here, but it is hard when they don’t speak English.” I asked Jim how his Christian faith impacted the way that he views the situation. JK: “The ultimate point is that even if we disagree with how things are going, we still have to love our neighbors. We even have to love our enemies. Jesus said that all of the law and the prophets hangs on these two things – love God and love your neighbors. That is pretty much what the fundamentals of Christianity is all about. That was laid out clearly by the Boss. For Christians, it can be tempting to skirt around it because it is so darn hard, and unless you are connected to the Spirit it really seems unnatural. In my experience, I really like working with the Mexicans that I have been around. I feel like they add a really rich fabric to our culture. In my experience most of them do a pretty good job staying out of trouble. Partly that is because that if they are not here legally, they could get deported if they get in any kind of trouble. The other reason is faith. My friend C became an Evangelical when he got here, like many of the Mexicans that I know. Around here LOTS of Mexicans have become Evangelicals since arriving in the U.S.” I had a lot more questions to ask, but the plumbers were not getting paid to talk about my blog post and the building field is highly competitive. I thanked Jim for his time, and as I hung up I reflected on the complex nature of the immigration question. As I listened to these stories, I could see threads of our previous posts showing up here as well. In the midst of migrating people, God is working for his own purposes. We can see the nations streaming to the temple of God. But at the same time, the economic impact of immigration presents real challenges for some American workers. On the other side, many Mexican-American families have members with different legal statuses. The parents don’t have a secure foothold here, but the children have no connection with Mexico and it would not be easy to return. The issues are complex, but like it or not, immigrants and native-born Americans are working side by side – building together in the mountains of North Carolina. ** A significant number of undocumented immigrants pay taxes (an estimated $11.74 billion annually). Many also contribute to Social Security (estimated $13 billion), while not receiving much access to the benefits. See reporting on that here, here, and a personal account here. – Kevin By Kevin
When discussing immigration, some tend to focus on the stories of individual immigrants or families, while others tend to focus on macro-level statistics that describe immigrants as a group. Both stories and statistics are valid and important parts of the conversation. Emphasizing one at the expense of the other can lead to grave errors. If we focus only on statistics, it can be easy to forget that we are talking about image-bearing humans. In this blog, we will hear from the voices of immigrants and those who walk alongside them. We hope this will show the uniqueness of each immigrant’s story; immigrants are not a homogenous group. We also hope that you will be able to relate to and share the cares that they have. If we focus only on stories, we can fail to understand the larger contexts of immigration debates. We can easily pick and choose stories that confirm our prior beliefs. Statistics are helpful for understanding the big picture. Of course, it is also possible to pick and choose statistics that fit into the narratives we hold, so we must 1) be critical of data sources, 2) reason properly and reasonably about data, and 3) be open to new data that others bring up. Since the bulk of this blog will focus on stories, I’ll present some statistics here that may help inform our subsequent conversations about immigration. This post should be taken as a snapshot; there are certainly many other statistics that are relevant. I have chosen a few issues that we feel benefit greatly from knowing relevant statistics. The number of immigrants is high, but it’s not exploding In 2015, there were an estimated 43.3 million foreign-born people living in the US, about 13.5% of the total population. For the last 10 years, there have been just under 1.1 million people being granted legal permanent residence on average each year. In sheer numbers, this is close to the historical highs at the beginning of the 20th century. However, as a proportion of the US population, it has hovered between 0.31% and 0.34% per year over the last five years; it does not seem to have increased significantly.* The figure above shows the estimated number of undocumented immigrants in the US over time. There were an estimated 11.1 million in 2014.** Between 1990 and 2007, there was large growth. The growth tapered off and stopped in 2008, at the beginning of the last administration. This suggests that the number of new undocumented immigrants is offset by the number who are deported or gain legal status. While there are indeed many immigrants coming into the US, the number is not increasing at a high rate. Immigrants take some jobs, but affect different industries differently Similar to the number of undocumented immigrants in the US, the number in the labor force competing for jobs increased until about 2008. In 1995, undocumented immigrants made up 2.7% of the labor force. In 2008, they made up 5.4%. Since then, it has hovered between 5.0% and 5.4% nationally. However, there are significant differences across geographic regions. While some states have seen labor force participation rates by immigrants plateau or even decrease (e.g. CA, NV, GA, SC), some states have seen increases (e.g. PA and VA). Aside from geographic location, these rates alse depend on the particular industry, and also whether we are looking at documented or undocumented immigrants (see the figure below). Generally, jobs requiring less skilled labor and those that are less regulated by professional bodies will have more immigrants. These diverse findings may partially explain why you are either more concerned or less concerned about the economic effects of undocumented immigration than other people (in different jobs and different parts of the country). Any discussion about the economic impact of immigration should bear in mind that different people may feel the impact to different extents. Immigrants are less likely than citizens to commit crimes Increased immigration has sometimes led to fears of increased crime. Several studies (here and here) demonstrate that immigrants (both documented and undocumented) are less likely to commit crimes than native-born citizens in the US. While about 15 in 1000 natives are incarcerated, only 9 in 1000 undocumented immigrants and 5 in 1000 documented immigrants are incarcerated. This difference may be partially explained by the legal vulnerability faced by immigrants; the stakes (e.g. deportation) are higher, which restrains criminal activity. This does not mean that crime committed by immigrants are more or less important or serious. Wise and righteous policing is needed to safeguard all communities from criminal acts. What the statistics suggest, however, is that political rhetoric blaming immigrants for rising crime is not rooted in fact. Since immigrants (both documented and undocumented) have such low incarceration rates, why does this issue generate so much political attention? Avoiding extremes Statistics are helpful for qualifying our claims: there are a large number of immigrants within the US, but the number is not exploding; immigrants take some jobs, but affect different industries differently. Statistics are also helpful for dispelling some falsehoods: immigrants are less likely to commit crimes. As Matt has said, there are a range of legitimate positions different Christians could take on immigration. But whatever the position, let it be rooted in compassion and truth. Statistics do not equal or guarantee truth, but the right statistics enable us to get closer to it. We will get to practice compassion as we listen to diverse voices speak about immigration in the coming weeks. * Computed from Department of Homeland Security statistics and Census Bureau population projections. ** Another study estimated the figure was less than 11 million. By Rev. Matt Koerber
Here is a reminder of where we are: Week #1: Foundational Thoughts Week #2: Immigration Policy Week #3: Voices of Immigrants Week #4: Refugees Week #5: Engaging with Islam Week #6: Bridging Barriers and Putting Ideas Into Practice The title for the post comes from a line in the Tony Award winning Broadway musical Hamilton as Alexander Hamilton (Scotland) and the Marquis de Lafayette (France) celebrate the continental army’s victory at Yorktown. It is a reminder that immigration issues have been central to the American story from the very beginning. It is also a reminder that “getting the job done” is literally part of the challenge. From New England farms to frontier homesteads to the steel mills of Pittsburgh, immigrants have found new work opportunities in America. In the process they have often clashed with the people already there by threatening to take their jobs or their land. This week we will discuss immigration policy and look at the economic impact of immigration. In my opinion, this is probably the most complicated aspect of the immigration discussion. In the upcoming weeks we will deal with some of those challenges, but this week we will try to address the economic challenges of immigration and think in terms of immigration policies. In order to do that we will begin to include a greater range of voices in this discussion. We have planned to have a wide range of contributors this week who can help us think about the way in which immigration issues are felt by people who live close to the U.S.-Mexico border, by those in construction-related fields, and by those in tech-related fields. We will also try to listen to the ways in which recent immigration debates have impacted the Hispanic community. I want to preempt this by framing the discussion in a couple of ways. First of all, this topic is so complex that it would require a year’s worth of writing to adequately address. Our goal is not to achieve comprehensive coverage in a week of short posts, rather, it is to expand our understanding and model a measured and reasonable dialogue. Not all of our contributors will agree on all points and it is not our intention to seek a single harmonized message. Secondly, we should recognize that there are a range of legitimate positions that Christians can take on this issue. It is reasonable for a country to limit immigration – every country on earth does this – and it is necessary for a nation to enforce border security. Third, the Bible does introduce some principles about immigration that can apply generally to this conversation, so we are not without guidance. Here is what I am thinking about concerning biblical principles. There are repeated references to conduct towards immigrants in the Bible, with many using the language of “alien”, “exile” or “sojourner.” There are repeated warnings that we not take advantage of someone in this condition. (See Ex. 22:21, 23:9, Lev. 19:33, 25:35, Jer. 7:6, 22:3, Zec. 7:10, and Mal 3:5.) That does not mean that a country needs to have completely open borders. But it does remind us that immigrants are often particularly vulnerable and open to exploitation. There is another passage that grounds this concern in a way that is particularly relevant. Deuteronomy 10:19 commands the people of Israel to “Love the sojourner, therefore, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt.” God tells Israel that their conduct towards outsiders in their midst should be rooted in their experience of having been an outsider. That doesn’t meant that this command only applied to the first generation to leave Egypt, but it was the collective experience of their people and part of their identity. Although immigration policy is a complex subject, we should always remember to ground our current policies in the right historical context. We can’t isolate the immigration discussion from our national history of immigration. Here are some ways that can be applied:
By Evelyn
[MK: I asked Evelyn to contribute to this foundational section as our first guest blogger. I knew that she had an important view because she essentially stands with a foot in two worlds. She was born and raised in the U.S., but married to someone who is not a citizen. Her in-laws are an ocean away, and visiting them means a trip into a foreign country. I wanted her to share a bit of that perspective to help us enter into an experience that is different from our own.] I never imagined I would be affected so closely by immigration issues. My husband Kevin came here as an immigrant on a student visa to pursue his graduate education in 2013. We started dating in 2014, married in 2016, and as of two months ago he has a green card that gives him legal permanent residency. Although I work in a university setting where there are many international students, I only started to realize just how complicated immigration is once I joined my life to an immigrant. Many of Kevin’s overseas family and friends thought that he became a US citizen the moment he married me. If only it was that easy! In his case, the laws of his home country do not allow him to hold citizenship in a second country, so if he does decide to become a US citizen when he is eligible, he must renounce his Malaysian citizenship. This means when he returns home to be with family, his own country would consider him an outsider. Or, if he decides to keep his Malaysian citizenship, he won’t have the same legal status as our potential future children. Immigration law affects immigrants around us in many ways that are often invisible to us. Those who are immigrants know just how all-consuming a pending case can be. Terrible phrases like “what if” and “maybe” cause distress, uncertainty, and anxiety. We felt this deeply when the first travel ban was issued in January, because it appeared to focus on Muslim-majority countries. We found ourselves starting to say those terrible phrases, because Malaysia is also a Muslim-majority country. It didn’t take much imagination to see Malaysia being included in any future travel bans. Many well-meaning friends and family tried to tell us that we had nothing to worry about, but the immigration process offers no guarantees. So long as Kevin is not a US citizen, he is here only at the goodwill of the US government. As we have seen with rising tensions between many countries worldwide, that goodwill can change in just an instant. Our immigrant friends and neighbors bear heavy weights. One of the weights Kevin and I bore was the burden of proof to show that our relationship was legitimate. This started a very strange process for us where we scoured our houses for tangible things that proved our intangible love for each other. Neither Kevin or I are overly romantic, and so I never felt like we had enough “stuff” to absolutely prove we were married for legitimate reasons. I found myself obsessively hoarding anything I thought could be evidence, because any one thing by itself (photos, letters, cards, ticket or movie stubs, etc.) felt like it could easily be dismissed as fake. Those terrible phrases came up in conversation between us many times: “What if they don’t think 30 pictures is enough? Maybe we should send 50.” “What if something gets lost in processing? Maybe we should send two copies of everything just in case.” Kevin’s green card application that we mailed in weighed over two pounds. A week after we sent our application, Kevin’s father died unexpectedly from complications in his battle with cancer. When a green card application is in process, applicants are not allowed to leave the US without prior permission from the US government. Due to a technicality of the timing when we submitted Kevin’s application, it was impossible to get permission in time to leave the country and be with his family. He was not able to attend his own father’s funeral. We carry that burden with us, too. Our absence was noted by the many people who paid their respects. Kevin’s mom and younger brother had to explain again and again why he wasn’t there. We carry all these burdens with us. This is just one way my husband and I have been impacted by his status as an immigrant, and compared to what I’ve heard from others, we have had it pretty good overall. I’ve found that every immigrant’s story involves some degree of sadness and sacrifice, and it grieves me that so many immigrants suffer through this alone, out of sight of most Americans. Immigration is not without real cost. Marrying an immigrant made these issues much more personal to me, casting them in a much brighter light. Many of you will never be related to an immigrant, but there are still many ways to meaningfully connect. Immigrants are quietly carrying their burdens among us, even in our congregation. May we strive to bear the burdens of all of God’s image-bearers, especially the immigrants. By Kevin
For the body does not consist of one member but of many. (1 Cor 12:14) On that first Pentecost, God brought together Jew and Gentile into one body. Since then, the church has tried to simultaneously uphold two truths. First, believers in Jesus are members of the same body; there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, no male and female (Gal 3:28). If our diverse nationalities, ethnicities, and political leanings keep us from sharing communion together, we have failed. Second, each member in that body is an individual shaped by a particular culture and unique history. The church, in its very nature, is meant to display the diversity of God’s creation. If our communion excludes or burdens those of different stripes, or is composed of a homogenous collection of people, we have failed. These two truths will inform our discussion of immigration over the coming weeks; they pertain to how we embrace those who are ethnically and culturally different from us. This week, I want to reflect on how these two truths inform how we embrace those within the church who are politically and ideologically different from us. Our ability to do the former hinges on our ability to do the latter. We commonly think of God’s emphasis on unity and diversity as two sides of the same coin. We recognize that they must be simultaneously true in any flourishing church. However, I’ve begun to avoid thinking of these as sides of the same coin, because it implies the right balance can be found. It tempts me to think that if we only found the right balance, we could avoid many sins and hurts. Most dangerously, when there is disagreement, it tempts me to blame others for getting the balance wrong. If the view I disagree with is a minority view within the church, I can reject and silence it in the name of church unity. If the view I disagree with happens to be held by a majority, I can accuse a dominant group of marginalizing my own views. At any given time, I am prone to draw on either of the two truths for political expedience, causing harm to others. I have found it helpful to consider the following questions. What happens when I emphasize unity at the expense of diversity? I am prone to exclusion (see my last blog post). I silence and reject views different from mine. I may think I invite dialogue, but others do not feel they can dialogue with me. In some cases, I try to win them “back into the fold” without first trying to understand their position, and without considering the possibility that I might be wrong. This can feel like an act of violence for the person being “dragged back”. I need to ask myself: Am I prone to excluding views different from mine in the name of unity? What happens when I emphasize diversity at the expense of unity? I am prone to forget my obligation to the others in the body, as I think my views (which may be correct) privilege me over those who are wrong. I start seeing people as friends or foes, seeking out “my tribe” within the larger body. I start excluding foes as oppressors, because there is no reason to care for someone with power over me. I need to ask myself: Am I all too happy to sacrifice unity to advance my perspective? Is our unity and diversity rooted in truth and justice? Sometimes, we may avoid the two aforementioned extremes, but settle on a compromise that is not rooted in truth and justice. For example, men with differing views about slavery compromised to form our republic, which on some level maintained ideological unity and diversity, but sacrificed truth and justice. I am prone to thinking my own views are rooted in truth and justice, but not those of my opponent. I need to ask myself: Am I willing to lovingly correct others when their views compromise truth and justice? Perhaps more importantly: Am I willing to consider that my own views are not perfectly rooted in truth and justice? Balancing unity and diversity, while not compromising truth and justice, is a gargantuan task. On my own, the best I can do is pose such challenging questions. Even then, I will certainly get the balance wrong. However, a body with many members can do better. I need other members of the body who are different from me. I need others with voices, tendencies, virtues, and sins that are different from mine. The strengths of other members may be one way God saves us from my weaknesses. Out of this diverse mess of a body, with us posing hard questions to ourselves and each other, “He will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his paths” (Isa 2:3). By Kevin
“...the ‘others’ need not be perceived as innocent in order to be loved, but ought to be embraced even when they are perceived as wrongdoers.” – Miroslav Volf, “Exclusion & Embrace” As an immigrant in the U.S., I often think of that first Pentecost when God’s people first expanded across national and linguistic boundaries. I’m privileged to worship with Christians who are ethnically and culturally different from me. Differences can bring life-giving diversity, but can also present challenges. At high-pressure points in history, differences can feel especially hard to navigate. We are part of an increasingly polarized society; it seems to demand that we take one side or another on various issues. Our differences have never been more sharply felt than since last year’s presidential election. The church has not been immune to polarization. Most of us have at some point heard fellow believers share views we consider wrong, and have felt that we are on different sides of some great divide, even as we share fellowship and communion. How can this be? In this culture of polarization, every conversation potentially involves the wielding of power: words are not means of dialogue, but tools for exerting superiority. I feel it deeply when I am the victim of this. Rather than seeking to listen to and empathize with my fears, he dismissed them and argued his position. Rather than taking a charitable interpretation of my words, she misunderstood me and took offense. In the midst of polarizing post-election conversations, I became wary of the words of others (especially about issues relating to immigration policy). I started seeing enemies everywhere. So of course, I responded in kind. Everything others have done to me, I am ashamed to admit I’ve done in return. Borrowing from theologian Miroslav Volf, we are prone to exclusion: we either ignore, silence, or mischaracterize the voices of those who are “other”, or we try to reform them in our image (only then can we be sure they are “safe”). We allow communion only on our terms, but we’re fine without it. The polarization in our society is unsustainable – can we exclude from our lives roughly half of the population who don’t think as we do on topics like immigration policy? The polarization in church may feel more subdued, but is in fact worse when we consider the high calling for unity within the church. How do we move forward in mission to serve immigrants and refugees if we cannot agree on what is good and right? How do we share communion with those whose beliefs we may find objectionable, even harmful? How can I empathize with others who are prone to exclude my perspective? How can I express my voice when I fear it will be misunderstood? How can I trust that someone who disagrees with me still cares about justice? I am keen to raise these questions, but hesitant to provide answers. They are complex. This blog aims to reflect on how we can face these questions as they pertain to immigration-related issues. I want to end this post by suggesting that in some cases, try as we might to interpret others’ words and deeds charitably, there is no justifying the exclusion they carry out. Their beliefs may in fact be harmful and sinful. They may in fact be oppressors. We are rightfully offended. But we are called to something even more offensive: to forgive, and to embrace rather than exclude the oppressor. If we’re truly as polarized as I believe, I expect counterarguments at this point. I must of course clarify: forgiveness does not equal endorsement, and we must stand up to oppressors for the sake of victims. But after (maybe even before) these clarifications have been settled, we are called to start imagining what it looks like to embrace our enemies. In doing so, we can enable them to lay down their arms, but we will first need to lay down ours. If we cannot embrace the political “other” with whom we currently share communion, the communion we might offer to the ethnic and cultural “other” will not be as rich and full as it should be. Over the next few weeks, let us move forward together in our mission to serve and love the foreigner, as the church did that first Pentecost. “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies…” (Matt 5:43-44) By Matt Koerber
In the previous post we talked about the first Pentecost. It was a breakthrough day in the life of the church. God used supernatural power to demonstrate the barrier-breaking mission of the church. The gift of tongues allowed the gospel message to be heard in the native language of each listener. It was an early sign that God would empower the church to be witnesses for Jesus – not only in Jerusalem – but to the ends of the earth. We said that this was a good backdrop for our discussions about immigration and the multi-ethnic church. However, it is clear that the barriers that we face in America today are not primarily barriers of language. Instead, political conflict has created a polarized battlefield surrounding Immigration issues. In this atmosphere, talking points become part of a battle to advance each side’s agenda. Complex issues are oversimplified. Fear and slander are tools for power. Truth becomes a victim in the pursuit of political power. For example: Immigrants are scapegoated for large scale economic woes, refugees live under the cloud of our fear of terrorism, and people who favor immigration reform or border security are labelled racist. Our goal in this blog is to provide a way forward that avoids the extremes of either the political right or the left. That requires that we deal graciously with people and that we seek to focus on issues of Biblical concern. There are many issues that we can legitimately disagree on – but we need to disagree in grace and listen carefully. But, there are also important principles that the bible does address. We need to carve out a distinctly Christian ethic on these matters. A Christian approach to any controversial issue includes considering how we argue, not just what arguments we use. In his letter to the Philippians Paul wrote, “Let your reasonableness be known to everyone.” (Phil 4:5) Sometimes I wonder if that is a command that Christians take seriously enough. If we give in to the polarizing influence of our times we will struggle to be reasonable. Rather than trying to understand and listen to other points of view, we will view encounters with opposing ideas as an opportunity to “score points” or to “advance our cause.” Sometimes we fear that listening to our opponents will cause their position to be viewed as more legitimate. But Paul’s admonition to be reasonable reminds us that the Christian life is not just concerned with winning a particular battle. It is also concerned with how we conduct ourselves in the midst of a battle. Because Jesus is the king, ruling with power from heaven, we don’t need to adopt a “win at all costs” attitude. Instead, we can engage with opponents in a reasonable way. In fact, the reasonable manner of our dialogue is, itself, a testimony to God’s presence and power. Let’s look again at the connection in Philippians: Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; (Phil 4:5) See the connection between God’s presence and our reasonable conduct? It is the presence of God that allows us to back away from the skirmish line and seek to engage in a different way. It is the powerful presence of God that allows us to love our enemies and risk opening ourselves up to challenging dialogue. It is the loving presence of God that allows us to listen to our opponents – even when they are wrong – and love them anyway. We hope that this blog is a small contribution towards reasonable discussion around a difficult topic. By Matt Koerber
This spring, we are spending the season between Easter and Pentecost focusing on themes that relate to immigration and the multi-ethnic church. The theme verse for the blog is from Isaiah 2:2-3: In the last days the mountain of the LORD's temple will be established as chief among the mountains; it will be raised above the hills, and all nations will stream to it. 3 Many peoples will come and say, "Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob. He will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his paths." (NIV) The picture that graces this post and the homepage for the blog is a print that hangs on a wall in our home. It was a gift for our wedding and is one of the few wall hangings that has made it through all five homes that we have lived in as a married couple. If you look closely you can see the words of Isaiah 2:2 written into the pathway. People drawn in vibrant colors are walking together to the mountain of the Lord. It is one of my favorite paintings and captures the joyful excitement of God’s multi-ethnic kingdom. It was originally used for ministry purposes with the CCO and it appears in this blog with permission from the artist – Bonnie Liefer. It can be purchased from the CCO website here: https://cards.ccojubilee.org/collections/prints-1/products/mountain-print. But perhaps you are asking the question: What does all of this have to do with Pentecost? When we hear the word “Pentecost” we often think of the Pentecostal movement. We think about the arguments that many Christians have about the place of supernatural ministry gifts in the life of the church. You may be disappointed to find out that is not the purpose of this blog. Instead, we are reflecting on the central meaning of the story of Pentecost found in Acts chapter two. In this chapter, the Holy Spirit falls upon the remnant of Jesus’ followers who are hiding in a house in Jerusalem. Empowered by the Holy Spirit, they go out and preach with boldness to the people of Jerusalem. The events occur 50 days after the Passover. (The Greek word “pente” means “50”). On this occasion Jews from various parts of the Roman Empire had returned to Jerusalem for a pilgrimage. While they may have been fluent in Aramaic or Greek, they each spoke in a language that was particular to their homeland. The miracle of Pentecost is that the apostles were empowered to speak a foreign language that they did not otherwise know. There is, of course, a great deal of controversy about exactly what is happening here. “How did God make this happen” and “should we expect this sort of miracle to happen again”? But the focus of the text is that each person heard the sermon in their own language and then asked about what it meant. Utterly amazed, they asked: "Are not all these men who are speaking Galileans? 8 Then how is it that each of us hears them in his own native language? 9 Parthians, Medes and Elamites; residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, 10 Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya near Cyrene; visitors from Rome 11 (both Jews and converts to Judaism); Cretans and Arabs– we hear them declaring the wonders of God in our own tongues!" 12 Amazed and perplexed, they asked one another, "What does this mean?" (Acts 2:7-12) In the sermon that follows Peter tells them what it means. He says that it is a sign that Jesus has been raised to heaven and seated at God’s right hand and that now the gates of heaven are open to everyone who believes. The barriers of language, culture and ethnicity will no longer limit the spread of salvation. Furthermore, God’s presence is no longer contained in the temple, but the Holy Spirit dwells in the midst of all believers. Through the witness of the church, people from all nations will come to faith in God. This is how Isaiah 2:2 finds its fulfillment. Before, the temple of God was a physical building and one could only come into God’s presence by traveling to Jerusalem. Language, culture, ethnicities, and national borders were impediments. Now, people of all ethnicities can come into God’s eternal kingdom through faith in Christ. The barriers are being overcome. This vision – a kingdom of every tribe, tongue, and nation – is the controlling vision of the New Testament church. It is the vision that ought to shape us today. It does not eliminate the many complex problems we face related to immigration policy. It does not negate concern for border security or economic protections. But it is the backdrop against which these conversations happen. Modern forces of globalization create new economic opportunities and unprecedented challenges. But the great waves of migration that flow around the world are also part of God’s story. Today, the church is growing in South America, Africa and Asia. Refugees and migrants from the Middle East are encountering the gospel for the first time. The waves are sometimes rough and the future impact may be uncertain, but it is clear that the nations are streaming to the mountain of the Lord. Taking this vision seriously means that we have to talk about tough issues like immigration.. Christians will have legitimate disagreements about particular policies, but we can find common ground in this great story of being part of the multi-ethnic kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ. By Matt Koerber
This year, our spring devotional blog will lead up to Pentecost Sunday, celebrated June 4. In past years we had a blog that covered the season of Lent as we moved towards Easter. This year we will focus on the themes of Pentecost: God’s power to bring all people into his eternal kingdom. The theme verse for this blog is from Isaiah 2:2-3. In the last days the mountain of the LORD's temple will be established as chief among the mountains; it will be raised above the hills, and all nations will stream to it. Many peoples will come and say, "Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob. He will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his paths." (NIV) In summary, the blog will focus on the multi-ethnic nature of the kingdom of God and how this relates to the current debates about immigration in America. This is an important topic for a number of reasons. First, City Reformed is a church located in the university community of Pittsburgh and we serve a very diverse population. People come to Oakland from all over the world and as a church we are committed to caring for people from different backgrounds. We currently have members from a variety of ethnic backgrounds and many who have immigrated to the United States. Our own congregation is made up of people “from every nation”. Second, we have a long commitment to supporting ministries that cross ethnic barriers. We support missionaries throughout the world and local ministries like P.R.I.S.M. (international students), YWAM (refugee care), and Ambassadors in Sports (significant refugee ministry.) All these ministries require constant energy and effort. We need to keep reminding ourselves why these are important investments. The third reason is a bit trickier. Over the last couple of years, racial and ethnic issues have emerged as areas of significant concern and controversy. Immigration policy has been controversial throughout American history, but it has emerged with greater tension in the past election cycle. Border security, undocumented immigrants and deportation have become majorly divisive political issues. Furthermore, since 9/11, Americans have been uncertain about how to engage with immigrants from Muslim countries. Worldwide conflicts, especially in Syria, have also produced massive numbers of refugees from the Muslim world. These topics are often highly controversial. They are also highly complex and require deep analysis and nuanced reasoning. Unfortunately, they have become politically polarized. As a result, Americans find it difficult to talk about these things with those who have differing viewpoints. In my opinion, both the political right and the left are guilty of reducing these complex issues to simple statements which they lob at their opponents like hand grenades. This doesn’t help us to understand these issues any better, and it can be destructive to communities where people have different beliefs. As Christians, we are committed to seeking the peace of our city (Jer 29). In this case, it requires us to talk about difficult things. I know that this is a challenging issue that is important to many people in our congregation. Our end goal is not about trying to push the battle line closer to the right or the left on this issue, but to chart a course that is uniquely Christian. (More on that in the coming weeks.) I realize that some people may encounter this blog and be tempted to write it off before they even start to read. Perhaps some are tempted to think that they know in advance where we will be going and are skeptical about our intentions. In our current climate, that sort of cynicism is perfectly understandable. With those possible objections in mind I would like to lay out some guiding principles and our proposed format.
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AuthorMatt Koerber is the senior pastor at City Reformed Presbyterian church. This is his personal blog that he also asks guest writers to participate on. Archives
August 2018
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