By Rev. Matt Koerber
This is the final post of this blog. Throughout this week we have tried to both summarize the prior five weeks of the blog and also think about how we can apply the lessons moving forward. Thus far, we have not focused a great deal on the policy issues that surround our immigration debates. We have not spent a lot of time considering the details of questions about immigration policy, but have instead focused on the people involved. This seems like the necessary foundation for moving to policy. But perhaps it has seemed like there is an elephant in the room. The things that people are arguing about often relate to policy proposals. For example: Should we have amnesty for undocumented immigrants already in the country, should we seek to deport them, or something in between? We might also ask: How do we enforce border security? Or: How many refugees should we invite into our country?
Freedom and Principle
I want to begin by repeating what we have often said throughout the blog: these issues are very complex and there is freedom for Christians to disagree on many things. At the same time, there are biblical principles in play that we have to consider. On one hand, we should remember that many specific policies do not have a biblical proof text. For example, there is no bible passage that we can point to that will tell us exactly how to enforce border security. On the other hand, there are a large number of passages that speak to the way in which we treat refugees and immigrants in our midst. In fact, the category for “sojourner” becomes a biblical test case in the Old Testament for how we give justice to the marginalized. These are not a few isolated passages, but they are a substantial thread through the concept of societal justice in the Bible. A partial list of references includes: Ex. 22:21, 23:9; Lev. 19:10, 23:22, 24:22, 25:6; Num 9:14, 15:15; Dt. 10:19, 14:29, 24:19-22, 27:19; Jer. 7:5-7; Ez. 22:7,29; Zec. 7:10, Mal 3:5. Drawing out one of these texts, we can observe the seriousness with which God takes this issue:
"You shall not pervert the justice due to the sojourner or to the fatherless, or take a widow's garment in pledge, but you shall remember that you were a slave in Egypt and the LORD your God redeemed you from there; therefore I command you to do this.” (Deuteronomy 24:17-18)
Remembering the Big Story
The passage above grounds the social ethic in the corporate experience of God’s people as former “sojourners”. Their people had been dependent and mistreated. Therefore, it was inexcusable for them to do the same. The same could be said of America. We are a nation of immigrants and we should be expected to keep that perspective when we think about this issue. But it is even more the case for Christians. We are called to think of ourselves as an exiled people (I Pet. 1:1, Heb. 13:12-14.) Therefore, we should be particularly aware of the challenges faced by immigrants and refugees.
But most importantly, we need to ground all of our considerations in a reminder of the big story. Throughout the Bible, God is calling people to himself from every tongue, tribe, and nation. It is easy to see the way in which God is using the unprecedented people movements of the early 21st century as a means of achieving this goal. This does not resolve the challenging policy issues, but it should guide our hopes and dreams. I am not arguing for a policy of open borders, but I do believe that we can only think properly about this issue if we keep our eyes fixed on the big story. As people relocate around the world, God has a purpose. This purpose is found in many parts of the bible, but the grand vision of Isaiah expresses it very well:
“It shall come to pass in the latter days that the mountain of the house of the LORD shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be lifted up above the hills; and all the nations shall flow to it, and many peoples shall come, and say: "Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob, that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths." For out of Zion shall go the law, and the word of the LORD from Jerusalem.” (Isaiah 2:2-3)
This is not a verse about people coming to America. It is a verse about people coming to faith in Christ and finding a common unity in their savior. It also shapes the way we think about people movements. God is shaking the nations and people are moving. We never fully know his purposes, but we do know that he is drawing people from every nation to himself through faith in Jesus Christ. You may have noticed that the themes of spiritual journeys were often interwoven into the physical journeys of immigrants and refugees in our blog posts. This is not an accident. This is what God is doing. We are mere witnesses.
A Broken System
One of the things that really stood out to me over the course of these last six weeks are the problems present in our current immigration situation. This should not be a surprise. There have been many legislative attempts at fixing this issue in the last two decades. All have ended in gridlock and as a result the broken system continues. Let me give a brief summary of what I see.
Over the last couple of decades a large number of immigrants have entered the United States across the Mexican-American border. Again, this is not really a surprise. History is full of these sorts of movements, and they are often quite messy. It is estimated that there are as many as 11 million undocumented immigrants living in our country, many from Hispanic backgrounds. There are millions more that are living and working here as citizens or without proper documentation. Some people have entered the country legally but have overstayed their visa. Most immigrants are motivated by better economic opportunities. Many are willing to work for a lower wage. The influx of works has a downward effect of workers’ wages in many fields. Remember the interview with construction workers in North Carolina: immigrants are willing to work for less and they have displaced American workers in some fields.
However, because immigrants are not able to compete in all occupations, the effect of this is not felt in all career fields. Manual labor and parts of the service industry are the hardest hit. “Loving our neighbor” requires that we show concern for the sojourner in our midst. But it also requires that we show concern for American workers who experience the suppression of wages associated with mass immigration. It can be easy for Americans who work in fields not affected by mass immigration to dismiss this to quickly.
However, we can’t end our analysis there. Extricating ourselves from a difficult situation is not easy. We should remember that many other parties have been involved in this process and the benefits have also been felt unevenly. American employers save costs and underbid their competitors by hiring lower cost immigrant workers. American consumers also benefit because they pay less for services done by immigrants. Undocumented Immigrants gain economic opportunities, but also suffer. They are not afforded the full protection of the law and are often vulnerable to being taken advantage of. Although the system is broken, there are winners and losers. The following chart lays this out:
The reason that the system remains broken is because the solutions are hard and our country is deeply polarized. But American employers and consumers are willing to tolerate the system mainly because we are not the ones who pay the costs. American workers and undocumented immigrants continue to bear the cost.
I am more convinced than ever that immigration reform is necessary. Allowing the current system to continue only perpetuates a bad situation. Undocumented immigrants are vulnerable. But while they are undocumented they are less able to bargain for competitive wages. This is turn contributes to suppression of wages and harms many types of American workers.
Most attempts at immigration reform have three components. First, they attempt to deal with the millions of undocumented workers that are already here. Second, they deal with immigration controls going forward – such as border security. Third, they deal with enforcement in the work sector – pressuring employers to hire only documented workers. I will make a few brief comments on each section.
i. Eleven million undocumented immigrants
This is a very challenging issue and many of the previous attempts to “fix” the immigration issue floundered here. What do you do with the millions of people who already live in our country, but not currently documented? There is no answer that is simple and good. One simplistic, but extreme solution is to deport everyone who does not have documentation of legal entry into the country. However, like most simple solutions, it runs into many roadblocks. Deporting 11 million people is a massive operation and would seem unjust to many Americans. It is not a realistic solution.
Beyond being unreasonable, I believe that it would be unjust. Consider the following. Even if we were to think of illegal immigration as a crime, nearly all crimes have a statute of limitations. Crimes also need to have intentional activity. Think through the challenges of these questions:
It seems to me that a just process of immigration reform would need to provide pathways to citizenship for immigrants who have lived in this country for a significant amount of time. That is not to suggest that this is a normal course, but a necessary corrective as we re-calibrate a system that has been out of whack for a long time.
ii. Border Security
Just as there are simplistic answers for dealing with undocumented workers currently here, there are also simplistic answers for border security. The president’s proposal to build a wall is often viewed as being unrealistic and overly harsh. It seems to me that the opposition is primarily to the symbolism of the action. (This is not to minimize the impact of symbolic actions, which can greatly impact the way policy is enforced and shape public opinion.) All walls have doors in them and even a wall on the entire border between the United States and Mexico would have places of entry and egress. In my view, border security is necessary as long as we have reasonable access to and from the country, whether there is an actual physical wall or not.
On the other extreme, some people would profess that an “open border policy” would solve our immigration dilemma. But, insistence on open borders fails to offer any protection for American workers and fails to recognize real threats to national security. In his letter to the Romans, the apostle Paul reminds us that God’s purpose for the government of any nation is to protect its citizens (Rom. 13:4). There are real threats in the world and pretending that they don’t exist does not make our neighbors across this nation any safer. Given the turmoil in the world, it would seem to me that concern for border security is not only realistic but necessary.
iii. Enforcement of employment laws
Enforcing employment laws would create a more just work force for both American workers and immigrants. Currently, American consumers and employers have benefited from the services of undocumented workers. Justice requires that we hold employers accountable for who they hire. In the current system, there are large disincentives for doing this. Employers in certain fields (like construction and agriculture) cannot compete without hiring immigrants. Lack of enforcement in this area creates an uneven playing field. It penalizes American workers and documented immigrants. It also creates an environment in which undocumented workers exist outside of legal structures. They are not afforded the protections of the law and have reduced bargaining power. This situation is clearly viewed in the Bible as being unjust. Consider this biblical command:
“For the assembly, there shall be one statute for you and for the stranger who sojourns with you, a statute forever throughout your generations. You and the sojourner shall be alike before the LORD.” (Numbers 15:15)
Perpetuating our current system would have some benefits for employers and consumers, but it is not good for American workers and immigrants. It is clearly the type of system that the Bible would call “unjust.” It would seem to me that justice requires enforcing immigration laws in the market place.
Refugees are Different
As we have frequently said, the issues are complex. One area of complexity is the distinction between immigrants and refugees. Immigrants enter the country by choice, while refugees are driven from their homeland because of famine or violence. (When we were in Greece, this distinction was readily acknowledged by everyone in the society.) As a result, it is not reasonable to run the same cost-benefit analysis for refugees. Refugees may assume a measure of risk for a host country. Yet, we do this because we are called to be merciful to those in need. Many of the biblical commands about caring for sojourners assume this sort of situation. When we think of the story that Jesus told about the good Samaritan (Luke 10:29-37), we are reminded that stopping to care for a wounded stranger on the Jericho road would place the Samaritan at risk. It was also a financially costly endeavor for the Samaritan. But according to Jesus, it is the definitive expression of neighborly love. We ignore this to our own peril.
Furthermore, it is helpful to distinguish the immigration system from the refugee system. Unlike the former, the refugee system is not broken. Refugees are thoroughly vetted before entering this country.
This process is not nearly as thorough in other countries. In most cases it is a two year process to enter the United States. As was stated in an earlier article, there has never been a violent terrorist attack by someone who entered the United States through the refugee system in the four decades of its existence. That is not to say that there is no risk in welcoming refugees, but it does tell us that the risk is pretty negligible. We already have “extreme vetting” in our current refugee system.
There are violent people in the world and we need systems that screen them out. But an indiscriminate halt to the refugee program punishes those that are fleeing violence. We cannot love our neighbor without assuming risk, but we want to be certain that our fears do not prevent us from extending refuge to those who are in need.
More Discussions to Come
If you are still reading this post… there are ways in which you can participate in the discussion. We are planning to have a Monday evening Agora Forum discussion which will focus on the topic of immigration policy. We are currently planning to do this on Monday, June 26, 7:00-9:00 pm at City Reformed’s office. If you want to contribute or push back to any of these ideas, please feel free to come and talk with me in person. I will present some of the things listed here and others will present proposals that may differ. We want to foster a place for reasonable discussion.
I will conclude with special thanks to Kevin and Evelyn for their partnership in the blog. Even if I could have pulled this off alone (not likely) it would have been an impoverished product without your many insights. I am deeply thankful for your participation.
I would like to thank the many contributors who really made this blog special. By my rough estimate we have had over two dozen contributors during the course of this blog. What an amazing wealth of perspectives and insights! Many were from our congregation, but others from throughout the country and across the world.
I am also thankful for my wife, who sacrificed time from our already busy schedule to let me write.
Finally, I want to thank our many readers. Your comments and questions helped to stimulate the endeavor. Your “likes” and “reposts” spread the news. Your encouragements kept us going.
Above all, we thank the living God. He is calling people from every place to himself. The nations are streaming to the temple of the Lord through faith in Christ Jesus, and we are all invited to “learn his ways” and to “walk in his paths!”
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." (Isaiah 2:2–3)
I love solitude and the outdoors. There’s no place I’d rather be than hiking a lesser-known trail up a mountain in a National Park, with no more than two companions with me. I try to avoid easier and more accessible trails that tend to be swarming with people who don’t respect silence and solitude – people unlike me and those I accept as my companions. I mentally give them two choices: learn to respect my way of hiking, or get off the trail.
Don’t we all have preferences for the people we would like to share fellowship with? Don’t we find people with certain backgrounds/origins/beliefs easier to be in communion with? Don’t we wish they were less ___ and more ___?
I have found that my own perspective is woefully inadequate for detecting my own prejudices, even as it is incredibly sensitive to the prejudices of others. I am pleased with my ability to accept and love others; I silently proclaim, “See how welcoming and inclusive I am, unlike [insert enemy here] who judge and exclude others”. I see how my beliefs and practices display justice, while the ignorance of my enemies displays injustice. Especially in today’s polarized political climate, we are all prone to excluding our enemies.
God promises to teach his people how to transcend this bent to exclusion: by calling us to go up to God’s mountain together. Pentecost gives us a picture of what this looks like: a multitude of people of different tribes and tongues being brought into the same family.
In the buzz of Pentecost, God does several things by forcing us to walk alongside the other. First, he reveals to us our tendency to either exclude the other or try to shape them into our image (the two choices I give people on hiking with me). Second, he gives us the means of overcoming that tendency by forcing us into communion with the other.
Whether in our local church or the universal church, we worship alongside Christians with diverse experiences and backgrounds, resulting in diverse expressions of the same faith. Because my sister has gone through trials I know nothing of and was brought up in a culture that is foreign to me, her cares and fears will be different from mine.
This is a gift, and is the reason we have filled this blog with stories by Christians with diverse ethnic, cultural and historical experiences. These stories enable us to transcend our own perspective. I have my own way of viewing myself, others, and the world. On my own, my perspective is not large enough to encompass all that God has revealed to me.
We are called to practice what theologian Miroslav Volf calls double vision: seeing from the perspective of others, so that we might understand how they see us, themselves, and the world. He writes, “We use our imagination to see why their perspective about themselves, about us, and about our common history, can be so plausible to them whereas it is implausible, profoundly strange, or even offensive to us”.
Here are questions I ask myself. How are my words being understood by the other? Am I assuming things about them and their beliefs? How does someone manage to say such a thing if they care about justice? (This last question invites us to imagine other conceptions of justice and good that we may not immediately see). I don’t always have the answers, and when I don’t, I have to seek out the ‘other’ to understand her.
This is challenging and risky. If our perspectives are in conflict, must one be rejected? Can a compromise be found? Compromise may not be possible. But unless we are willing to see from the perspectives of others and let their perspectives stand next to ours – letting their voices, fears, and concerns resonate within us – we will not be able to properly reflect on whether one or the other is right, or more likely, where each is partly wrong and partly right.
But we may be surprised. In some cases, seeing from others’ perspectives might reveal the blindness in our own perspective and open us up to new worlds of wisdom, truth, and hope. In other cases, it may allow us to see a shared concern for justice where before we only saw enemies perpetrating injustice. In yet other cases, a willingness to listen and understand (rather than argue against) an enemy’s perspective may help disarm conflict and bring peace.
I have too often allowed myself to judge and form beliefs about others in isolation. Judgments need to be made (though probably way less often than we think), but they must be made against the backdrop of Pentecost: in communion with fellow believers who have different perspectives. It requires us to hear them speaking in “different tongues”, and still understand them. If they are fellow believers, I love them, and if I love them, I will want to hear their voice.
Perhaps this sounds too dramatic. Maybe you don’t consider anyone an enemy the way I do. But might there be others to whom you have become an enemy? Seeing from the perspectives of others will open our eyes to this.
Perhaps this sounds too unrealistic; maybe you feel that seeing from the perspectives of others merely opens us up to being controlled or manipulated by them, and tacitly gives legitimacy to wrong and unjust perspectives. Consider the example of Jesus, who suffered though he was innocent (1 Peter 2:21-25). Even though we were his enemies, he took on our perspective and sin in his body, that we might be reconciled to God and each other (2 Cor 5:18-21).
At Pentecost, this same Jesus gave his spirit, that the diverse believers would each speak and be understood in their own tongues – across cultural and linguistic barriers. Jesus gives us his same spirit today, enabling us to be heard and understood across barriers.
Against the backdrop of Pentecost, the cultural / national / ethnic / political ‘other’ is God’s means of saving us from our own prejudices. Without including their voices and perspectives in our own, the church will not reflect the fullness of God’s power at Pentecost. With them alongside us, we just might make it up to God’s mountain.
It’s hard to believe it is already the last week of the blog. To revisit some of the themes we covered, I talked to some people in the church who are doing bridge-building (and therefore Kingdom-building) work to hear what pricked their hearts to reach out to outsiders in our midst.
It can be hard to know how to get started when all you feel is a heart tug, and so I have also asked today’s contributors to suggest helpful resources for those who are interested in the same groups of outsiders.
You will notice that in all cases, there is some degree of intentionality required. It can be awkward interacting with a new person, regardless of their background. It can be difficult to know how to talk to someone from a different culture or religion. When Kevin first arrived in the US, long before we were interested in each other, he was suspicious of me greeting him at church. At the time, I was teaching ESL classes, and he assumed I was only befriending him so he would join my class. (English is his native language.) That was obviously not my intention, and we now laugh about how our signals were crossed.
The Hommes Family shared their story about international and interracial adoption. Melanie told me more about what drew them to international adoption:
When we decided to begin the adoption process we quickly decided on exploring adoption in China. We had a deep love for Japan and her people due, in large part, to Jim growing up there. It is now nearly impossible to adopt from Japan and so our thoughts turned to China. We knew that there were hundreds of children in China that needed homes and we had a home that was in need of children. After reading the book Lost Daughters of China by Karin Evans, we were more committed than ever to adopting our children from China.
I would strongly recommend finding someone who has already walked this path to walk it with you. Having someone who has experienced it all can be so helpful in your journey through all of the paperwork, the interviews, the waiting, the changing rules of the country you are adopting from, the travel, and the welcoming of the adopted child into your family. I am willing to talk with anyone who is interested in this. I would also explore adoption websites and I highly recommend the agency that we used when adopting Jake: Chinese Children Adoption International (CCAI). After reading all of the online information, call and talk with people that work there. CCAI is so committed to assisting you with any question at any time. The owner also has an amazing testimony.
Refugees in Pittsburgh
Others are connecting with with refugees who have resettled in Pittsburgh. Mark and Emily Weaver are currently working to foster relationships with local refugee families. It is a process that can take some time due to how overwhelmed and understaffed many resettlement agencies currently are. Mark shares how they first started thinking about forming these relationships:
We were both motivated to engage with local refugees after reading and listening to news stories that not only told the stories about the conflicts that are creating refugees but also how those refugees were integrating into the nation. I was particularly influenced by a story about how some Canadians were interacting and guiding refugees and some of the challenges that are included. We wanted to be a part of welcoming people to a new culture and nation; making that transition smoother. I think everyone should try to engage with the stories of refugees and feel that empathy for the stranger. There are many organizations, both Christian and otherwise, that people can seek out based upon their own passions.
Daniel Essig owns a contracting business, Essig Renovation & Design, and has hired some refugees over the last year for fair wages. He describes his own experiences as a temporary sojourner, and how that changed his posture towards those who are permanently displaced from their homeland:
My first interest in refugees/immigrants was sparked when I lived abroad for an extended period; I worked in Mexico for 3 months, and studied in Scotland for 4 months. Those experiences gave me at least a small glimpse of what it’s like to not know the language/customs of where you have set up home and what the implications are for earning a living and building community. Our community group attended a refugee informational panel discussion last year, which we found really helpful! After that meeting, Kate and I talked about what we could do to help these folks. It seemed clear to us we should consider what it could look like to hire refugees. Currently, I have 2 Somali refugees working for my company.
I was able to do this by approaching the manager of a local refugee organization who was at that panel. He set up a meeting with a caseworker, who passed our name onto multiple caseworkers, who connected us directly with refugees who had construction backgrounds, or at least had a desire to learn construction.
Joel Chan and Anna Yong have been connected to a refugee family as part of a mentorship program. Anna shares their motivations for getting involved:
We became invested in getting involved with refugees because we felt broken about the global refugee crisis and we decided that we HAD to do something. We had been praying and donating money to organizations that serve refugees on the ground, but we wanted to do something more. Refugees were the subject of a lot of the discourse surrounding the past presidential election, and the debate over refugee policy is complex – and out of our hands since we cannot vote in the US. We felt that, regardless of policy, we were called to love those who are already here in Pittsburgh.
Our family is volunteering with Hello Neighbor, a brand new mentorship program that matches people like you and me with refugees, in order to help them integrate and settle into their new lives here in Pittsburgh. People can also get involved (either by volunteering or donating goods) through one of the three resettlement agencies in Pittsburgh that are responsible for helping refugees in their first 90 days in the USA: Acculturation for Justice, Access and Peace Outreach (AJAPO), Jewish Family and Children's Services of Pittsburgh, and Northern Area Multi Service Center's Community Assistance and Refugee Resettlement (NAMS). There are countless ways to get involved. We are happy help you figure out where to start!
These responses highlight some of the informal ways that members in our congregation have reached out to particular people groups. Some of the other blog contributors may not be able to publically share the group, organization, or NGO they are connected with for security reasons. I invite you to reach out to me, Kevin, or Matt, or even to the authors themselves to get more information on how to be involved in the work those contributors are doing.
There are many more people in our church doing things like this than are listed here, and there are many more organizations in Pittsburgh connected to adoption, immigration, or refugee care than are listed here. For example, I spent a year volunteering with Greater Pittsburgh Literacy Council as an ESL tutor for a postdoc from Japan.
One of City Reformed’s formal partnerships is with PRISM, a group that serves international students, visiting scholars, postdocs, and their families in a number of ways. Christa Saenz is the contact person for getting involved in that ministry. Some of our community groups serve at PRISM events once or twice a year.
If you are feeling called to serve a people group, don’t let that interest fade in the face of uncertainty. If God is putting a call on your heart, have faith that He will also provide support for you to step out and serve.
By Joel Chan
I’ve always thought that I made a natural peacemaker. I enjoy thinking about things from different perspectives; it comes naturally to me. It also takes a lot to rattle me emotionally. I share these opinions about myself not to brag, but to give you a sense of (the naive) place from which I started in my thinking about peacemaking.
I thought these qualities were sufficient for the job of a peacemaker. Critically, I thought peacemaking looked like people agreeing and compromising over differences of thought, and coming to a shared consensus of the world. I assumed that everyone recognized their limited perspectives, and were open to changing. I now know, in practice, how seldom these conditions are true, particularly for the kinds of contexts in which Christ calls us to be peacemakers. I’ve also (somewhat painfully) come to a deeper understanding of what true peacemaking looks like, what it demands of us, and how it actually happens.
I’d like to share a bit more about these views, first by sharing the experiences that shaped them, then describing those views in a bit more detail, and finally reflecting a little on their implications for working together for God’s kingdom in the context of immigration policy.
Over the last 6-8 months, I have in varying capacities attempted to bridge divisions between people with differing theological and political beliefs, specifically, gender roles and the issue of race-police relations. The divisions turned out to be painful: in some cases, it caused the people involved to lose respect for each other, and in other cases, it led to painful conversations about leaving the church over their differences. Both issues were enflamed by the events and conversations surrounding the recent Presidential election.
I watched these divisions play out with a heavy heart, especially since I was very close to those most involved. So I set out to try and make peace. My goals were to 1) get each side to see their opponents as image-bearers, with views that were not as bad as they thought, and consequently 2) foster unity. My peacemaking attempts involved a range of activities, from extensive one-on-one conversations (online, in-person, and by email), group conversations, book discussions, and collaboratively planning and running an Agora Forum series on race and police relations.
In the end, I wasn’t quite sure I had made a difference. I seemed to have achieved very little of my goals. For example, during the Agora series, I was heartened by the effort from both sides to attend and listen to each other. There were no blow-ups in person. However, I saw very little evidence that anyone had changed their positions, either intellectually or emotionally. Some of the people who were considering leaving the church ended up deciding to leave.
Reflecting and praying over these experiences, and putting them in conversation with Scripture, I have come to see that peacemaking is harder and slower than I thought.
True peacemaking is HARDER than I thought
The phrase “the peace of God that passes all understanding” (Philippians 4:7) has taken on new meaning for me. I’ve come to believe that the church is a radical experiment in diversity that — by all accounts of what should be humanly possible — should fail.
The only requirement for being in the church is a commitment to Christ: not cultural affiliation, socioeconomic status, or even denomination/theological tradition or political ideology. This means that Christians within the same church may (whether they know it or not) have very substantial differences on some of these dimensions.
Sometimes these differences flare up into conflicts, and peacemaking becomes necessary. In these instances, the differences tend not to be simple differences of thought that are more easily resolved, or considered less essential to what it means to be a Christian (e.g., how much should we rely on liturgy in a worship service?). More often, the differences that divide us are theological and political beliefs that have deeper implications of values, for what we consider good vs. evil. Is it right that women are excluded from being elders? Should governments be able to decide that criminals should die? Is it right that there are racial disparities in treatment by the police? Are there any circumstances under which abortion is a morally acceptable action? Those are not beliefs that we hold lightly; and people who hold different beliefs are not just different, or even mistaken: we’re driven to see them as bad, as obstacles, or even outright threats to the Good. It was these sorts of differences that were at the root of the divisions in which I tried to make peace.
In light of the nature of the differences at play, it’s not surprising that peace and unity in the church should be seen as a sign of God’s supernatural power at work. That’s why one of the key markers of true Christian community is that we actually love each other (John 13:34-35; 1 John 3:14). Yes, that includes the people we disagree with. The world will see our love and be amazed, asking “How can you be friends with him? How can you love her?” It’s not humanly possible: something Else must be going on. Blessed indeed, then, are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God (Matthew 5:9).
It’s okay, then, perhaps even proper, that unity and peacemaking are experienced as hard. The gospel of Mark records how Jesus responded to James and John’s request to sit at his right hand with a gentle, yet sobering correction: “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or to be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?” (Mark 10:38). Jesus was referring to the cup that he asked to pass from him in the Garden of Gethsemane, overcome with a sense of the suffering that it contained. This tells us that the Way of the Cross is hard. It’s okay to experience it as hard; that doesn’t diminish it’s goodness, but may actually enhance it. If even Jesus was weighed down by the pain of servanthood, who are we to claim it is easy? That is comforting to me. It’s okay if I struggle with unity and peacemaking. It’s a sign I might be walking in the Way of the Cross. As a dear friend said to me when I was in the thick of trying to make peace, “If peacemaking feels really hard, that’s probably a sign that you’re aiming for the right kind of peacemaking”.
True peacemaking is SLOWER than I thought
I’ve also changed the way I think about what true peacemaking looks like. It’s slower. It may not look like much progress has been made. But if at the end of the day we walk away at least recognizing that the other is not to be completely shunned, maybe some progress has been made.
The way God talks about his word bearing fruit is instructive:
“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven
and do not return there but water the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it. (Isaiah 55:10-11)
The imagery here is agricultural, and perhaps unfamiliar to many of us. There’s a reason people say that something is as boring as “watching grass grow”. Like other areas of spiritual growth, peacemaking is slow and often barely noticeable. We have to take the long view, and not prematurely declare victory or defeat. We must not despise small beginnings (Zechariah 4:10); His word will accomplish what He purposes.
So what does “successful” peacemaking look like? As I mentioned, some of the people involved in the divisions ended up leaving the church. Were my peacemaking efforts a complete failure? I’m still reflecting on that one.
How do we balance the reality of the depths of our differences and our brokenness, with the idealistic call to unity? Does unity mean we must remain in the same local church? Can we be in different local churches (like living in different neighborhoods), but still remain family, and work together for the Kingdom? Is that a cop-out? There is some Scriptural evidence that people separating into different local churches, but remaining in fellowship within the same Church universal is okay, or even part of God’s plan.
I’m not 100% sure what the answers are, but I know this: the people who left could have left in a far more contentious manner than they did (and indeed many remain connected the people in our church in some form or another), and the relationships I formed and deepened during the process have been real, dear, and life-giving. I hold out hope that my peacemaking efforts may yet bear fruit that I cannot anticipate. And maybe there is goodness inherent in the act of peacemaking, regardless of end result. For example, were there fruits of the Spirit (e.g., peace, gentleness) that grew in me through this process?
What does this mean for a Christian response to immigration (policy)?Let me close by trying to connect these thoughts to the main content of this blog series. I suppose this is what makes my experiences relevant to the current blog: as we reflect on the practical outworkings of Christian perspectives on immigration, we are faced with the hard task of not simply discussing and resolving differences in opinion, but differences in deeply held values of safety/prudence and sacrificial love. It seems impossible at times, but this task is an important prerequisite for shared action.
Peacemaking, then, is an essential component of a practical response to our conversation about immigration policy. I hope that my thoughts about what true peacemaking looks like will be helpful to some of you as you press into these conversations with your fellow brothers and sisters in Christ, with whom you disagree. Let us “not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up” (Galatians 6:9).
By Dr. Ken Woo
MK: This post is from Dr. Ken Woo. Ken is a Calvin scholar who teaches history at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. Ken is an ordained minister, affiliated with the RCA. He and his family attend City Reformed. I had the privilege of talking with Ken about the influence of Calvin’s refugee experience on his own writing. Ken was gracious to write this post as a contribution to the blog. During this final week we are considering how we may be called to respond to things discussed in this blog. In this post, Ken draws from the experience of John Calvin to show that his refugee experience produced deep theological reflections. This is something that we should all seek to emulate.
“Earnest believers don’t always get what they want, but rather experience all kinds of pain because they left their country. Let such people be consoled with a single thought: 'Nevertheless, we are still in the house of God.'"
Readers of this blog might be surprised to learn that these words of comfort for immigrants and refugees, so timely in our present context, were spoken nearly five hundred years ago by none other than John Calvin (1509-1564). In this 1549 sermon on Psalm 27, the Genevan reformer held forth the importance of gathering to receive spiritual provision available only through the church’s ministry of preaching and sacraments, even if this means leaving places where such worship according to God’s design is not possible. Evangelicals across Europe made this choice, fleeing harassment and even the threat of death for their faith commitments. Many sought refuge in Calvin’s Geneva. Some came with their families. Others left family behind, along with property, livelihood, and social standing. A good number came from Calvin’s native France. These included the wealthy, who quickly transformed Geneva’s social elite. A significant group also came in poverty, representing a different kind of burden for their new city. Calvin’s congregation was mixed, comprised of native Genevans and an expanding throng of outsiders whose presence was not always welcome. He addressed Christians experiencing a sense of loss and displacement as the result of persecution, as well as those whose lives had been disrupted by the mass influx of foreigners. Nobody felt at home. As their pastor, Calvin offered this shared consolation: Our true belonging is with Christ, who nurtures us during our lifelong pilgrimage through a world in which we reside as perpetual strangers and aliens. Gathering as a community of sojourners, the church in worship enters the “house of God” in exile, a foretaste of home for weary pilgrims.
Calvin’s message was personal. He lived most of his adult life as a religious refugee, having left France for good in 1536 after embracing the Protestant faith considered heresy in his Catholic homeland. The Frenchman’s tenure in Geneva was an uneasy relationship for both. City officials banished him for three years over differences regarding church discipline and sacraments. Calvin clashed frequently with powerful members of the city’s native families who did not appreciate his reforms. That many of Geneva’s pastors were exiles from France did not assuage tensions. Calvin and his colleagues epitomized how foreigners were threatening old ways of life. Though he would gain increasing acceptance and influence over nearly three decades, one wonders if Calvin ever truly felt at home in a city that did not award him citizenship until 1559, just five years before his death. The reformer pastored immigrants and refugees as a fellow exile.
The Reformation scholar Heiko Oberman has suggested that Calvin’s theology was influenced by his situation as a religious refugee writing for refugee communities across Europe shaped by persecution and flight. Read in light of this context, Calvin’s familiar reflections on topics such as divine providence and election, the church, and the Lord’s Supper exhibit dimensions easily overlooked. To pilgrims who often feel only the sting of displacement, the reformer supplies a robust account of the Christian’s lasting home. Word and sacrament are manna in the wilderness, extended to the spiritually hungry through the church’s ministry. In such means of grace, God “has ordained a way for us, though still far off, to come near to him” (Calvin, Institutes, I.4.1). Regardless of their present circumstances, the gospel invites believers into a deeper sense of belonging and hope in union with Christ: “Nevertheless, we are still in the house of God.”
2017 marks the 500th anniversary of Martin Luther’s Ninety-Five Theses, widely associated with the beginning of the Reformation. As the church considers the complexities of welcoming immigrants, refugees, and political exiles today, Calvin could become a valuable conversation partner from another era rife with religious violence and mass migration. Oberman observes, “The fast-food of the neo-Calvinist Geneva-burger could not have met the needs of Calvin’s contemporaries and fellow-trekkers nor could it have provided the power for Calvin’s movement to survive to our own day” (John Calvin and the Reformation of the Refugees, 2009). Have we risked a distorted view of Calvin’s theology detached from the realities that informed it? Reading Calvin with his original context in mind may open connections between his situation and ours that are both surprising and fruitful. Good places to begin include the following resources.