It was just a short talk — 10 minutes during a break in the closing session of the Synod Assembly. When he heard where we were from, he asked me if I knew what Ahwatukee means. I said that I had heard it was made up by the developer who built the original neighborhoods out here. He was polite, and said maybe so, then he told me that the native people have word for the ramadas that they build as shelter when working fields far from their homes: Waito ki. “Wa toe kee.” It turns out some of the land where we built our homes and pools and hardware stores was farmed in the past, and the people who worked the fields built waito ki shelters here.
His name is Bear, and he is a member of the Tohono O’odham nation. His family’s ranch is on the border near Sells, AZ. In 1853 when the U.S. acquired the land south of the Gila River from Mexico in the Gadsden Purchase, the border between the two countries bisected the Tohono O’odham land. As a result, Bear’s grandmother’s house and some of his relatives are the Mexico side.
Bear was there to see what we would do about Resolution 10.03 — “Welcome to the Stranger in our Midst.” We were lucky to have him at our table. He was sitting with friends — folks we had just met from a church in Carefree.
10.03 was one of three resolutions brought before the assembly.
We had passed Resolution 10:01 without much discussion. “Affirmation and Support for Latino Ministry in the Grand Canyon Synod” calls on congregations “to support their sister Latino congregations through prayer, talents, and financial mission support.” A second resolution, defeated by a wide margin, sought to begin the process of revisiting the social statement on abortion passed at the Churchwide Assembly in 1991.
Resolution 10.03 was offered from the floor. It is a response to SB 1070, Arizona’s new immigration law. The resolution cites Galatians 3:28 (“…for all are one in Christ”), Deuteronomy 10:18-19 (the command to love and provide for the stranger), and Matthew 28:19-20 (Jesus’ call to make disciples of all nations). It concludes:
“WHEREAS we are called to provide ministry of word and sacrament for all who desire Christ’s presence, therefore be it
RESOLVED that the members of the 2010 Grand Canyon Synod Assembly commend the congregations … to continue to welcome, love, and provide ministry to all people without regard to immigration status.”
Unlike the other two, this one caused murmuring throughout the room — and some parliamentary maneuvering.
Almost immediately someone moved to amend the resolution, adding the words “provide sanctuary to” in that final paragraph. After some discussion, the amendment was defeated, leaving the wording as I’ve recorded it above. Shortly after that we voted to postpone discussion to the following day, so that members would have the evening to review a written version and think about it. When we returned on Saturday, a move was made to postpone the vote indefinitely. This would have left the door open to taking it up at the next assembly, but it could also mean — probably would mean — killing the idea altogether. Once the matter was placed before the assembly, declining to make a statement would have been a statement in itself.
I voted in favor of the resolution. There were only a handful who voted against. An arguement that this action might result in unintended consequences didn’t convice me. All we were doing, really, was affirming what we are called to do, and we know the consequences of that! It seemed to me that now is a good time to say loudly that worship and the feast of the Lord are truly open to all. We do not exclude other kinds of lawbreakers from worship. Not to be facetious, but I worshipped with you while waiting for my court date on my red light ticket. Most important of all, we welcome each other — sinners every single one of us — to church every week.
But it’s true that this is not a simple issue. Just consider Bear. The border lies between himself and the family home in Mexico just miles away from his ranch. Closing the border with a fence or army patrols would surely make it harder for him to see his family. Yet status quo is no solution either. These days he doesn’t stay at the ranch because the flow of desperate immigrants and, most likely, the drug cartels, across the land has made the area dangerous.
When I’m up against something I can’t figure out, let alone control, I take it to God in prayer and in worship. Before God I’m simply one of his children, and we come to the table as just that — God’s children. In God’s eyes we are all beloved, citizen or immigrant, in good stead with the law or not. The proper response, it seems to me, is to care for each other the same way.
