We've been fighting for land and our rights since the early years of mankind. Way back when we were settlers, we figured out that war got faster results than bartering. Then when a small band of English people were suffering religious and political oppression, they fled to another land to live out their new dreams of liberation. Yet their liberation came at the cost of those who were already there. Their blood, sweat, and tears became the blood, sweat, and tears of the newly displaced. I think we might have forgotten our genesis into a new life. How we react to immigration tells us a lot about how our worldview has developed in terms of entitlement. The ancient nomadic followers of God have something to impart to us on the subject of being displaced and how we might better learn to treat our foreign neighbors.
One of the big, week-long parties the ancient Jews used to hold was called Sukkot, which means "dwelling." It was a house party, but one without walls. They had a set of building instructions to make a house with a hole in the roof and no walls. Changing clothes might have been an issue!! The reason for this was to remind the desert travelers that they were not only connected to the foreign neighbors and enemies, but that they had a responsibility to care for them when in need. As one website explains:
What is the lesson, when we learn that we -- all of us -- live in a Sukkah? How do we make such a vulnerable house into a place of shalom, of peace and security and harmony and wholeness? If I treat my neighbor's pain and grief as foreign, I will end up suffering when my neighbor's pain and grief curdle into rage. But if I realize that in simple fact the walls between us are full of holes, I can reach through them in compassion and connection.
The ancient Jews weren't strangers to the feelings of being an outsider. According to the Tanakh, they had their share of what it means to be a foreigner. One of the more famous stories is that of the Hebrew people in slavery at the hand of a tyrannical Egyptian pharaoh. At this point in their story, they were the inconvenient truth, the unfortunate stranger who just happened to be around when the Egyptians colonized other lands. This is the danger of aggressively shutting our doors to the outsider: we unintentionally colonize the lands and lives of others, and in that moment they stop being human and are more of a devalued commodity that we get to sale and trade. At one point, the Jews forgot this, and their God reminds them, "You shall not wrong or oppress a resident alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt" (Exodus 22:21). Here, God invites them to not become what they experienced.
This is key when responding to things like immigration. Anthony Robinson, a pastor and author, says this about immigration:
A second reason that the scriptures of Judaism and Christianity press their adherents to respect and not exploit the alien in their midst is especially pertinent to the contemporary American scene. Injustice anywhere leads inexorably to injustice everywhere. If there is a class of people without rights, without voice, without legal recourse and protection, it puts not just that group at risk. It puts an entire society at risk. It becomes a cancer that eats away at the whole social body. If a certain group can be exploited, then exploitation begins to infect the whole society. Its overall standards of justice and fair play are lowered and distorted.
It is hard for us to deal with an issue like immigration because it forces us to confront the reality that at some point in history, every person used to be the immigrant. If you search the ancient scriptures you might see a common thread: "Care for the foreigner." What do you when that foreigner is the enemy? Well, Jesus helps us with that by offering the option of loving our enemies. If we love our enemies, then they no longer are our enemies. Immigration reform is necessary not because the Bible says it is, or because of my worldview. I think we need to be more open to immigration because we are all human. If you were lying in the street dying, you wouldn't say to the person helping you, "Excuse me, do you have your green card?" Why? Because it doesn't matter; the person is someone who is there to help. Compassion is the thread that sustains our humanity. The more we meet the needs of those in need, the more human we become. The less we respond to societal expectations (and even some laws), the more we agree to the idea that only certain people have value. In that regard, than all we do is perpetuate a spirit of self-indulgence.
I think one of the biggest things we struggle with as people, as a humanity, is our lack of remembrance. We forget that we once were without a home. We forget that we were once without warmth, without care. We were isolated. For you it may have been a moment, but for others it is a part of their lives. To be an immigrant is to recognize that we are in need. I think we have forgotten what it feels like to be in need, because in the West we have our fill of things to drown out the shadows in our past that remind us of our ongoing immigrant status. Sometimes we even become foreigners to who we once were.
We are a changing people. We are a changing culture. As we change, we move forward and leave things behind, and we shed old skin. If we're honest with ourselves, we realize that we are foreigners who have forgotten that we are constantly living in a new land. This new land for you might look different from that of the person sitting next to you on the train home from work. This new land might be a new job. It might be a new relationship. It might be the new territory of a broken relationship. Maybe it's the discovery of the new life that is to come. We are foreigners. I know I am using this word generously, but I do think there is truth here. The reason why it's so hard to open borders, gates, and country policies is because we are terribly afraid that we might be forced to remember our own alienation.
I am not advocating an overpopulated state of anarchy. I am not saying that we don't need laws in place. I am simply stating that we need to be more aware of how we treat the outsider, the other, and that we might need a more inclusive attitude mentally, physically, politically, and even spiritually. I am also attempting to inspire a spirit of compassion and understanding for those who might be looking for a better life that for some reason or another can't be found in their native land.
The Neolithic Revolution was the moment when we went from being nomadic travelers who hunted and took only what we needed to farming settlers who began learning what it looked like to transform the act of consuming into consumerism. Consumerism tends to lead to entitlement. The spirit of entitlement then leads to preservation. Then preservation has the potential to lead to things like war, to preserve what is ours at all costs.
What if that has sneaked in and somehow whispered words of treason? That this land is my land rather than our land. That what is mine should stay mine at the cost of alienating others, even to the point of intentional abuse, even if it really isn't mine. Our control of things tends to only be an illusion.
The moment we realize that the world was not made just for us is the moment we begin to redeem the pieces of our own humanity. The moment we invite the foreigner is the moment we come to accept the foreigner in us. The moment we accept that to be human means to treat other humans with respect, compassion, hope and integrity is the moment that we all come together and defiantly proclaim that they world can be a better place.