What If We Applied the Golden Rule?

As if I wasn’t already sad and angry about children being separated from their parents at the border, this viral photo of a Honduran toddler crying while her mother was being searched touched a very personal nerve. The child reminds me of a younger version of my six-year-old granddaughter Selena. Every time I see the photo, I see Selena, and I imagine the anguish I would feel if she or any of my grandchildren were forcibly separated from their parents with no clear indication of when or how (or even if) they will be reunited. (For the story of the photo and John Moore, the photographer, see this article.) (Update, June 22, 2018: The child in this photo was not in fact separated from her mother, but they are both still being detained.*)

Here are just a few of the other things I’ve been pondering as I read about and watch the awfulness that’s happening on our southern border:

The Golden Rule in one form or another is common to all major world religions:

• Do to others as you would have them do to you (Christianity)
• Hurt not others in ways that you yourself would find hurtful (Buddhism)
• This is the sum of duty; do naught unto others what you would not have them do to you (Hinduism)
• No one of you is a believer until he desires for his brother that which he desires for himself (Islam)
• What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellowman. This is the entire law; all the rest is commentary (Judaism) (See “The Universality of the Golden Rule in the World Religions.”)

One of the reasons the Old Testament gives for caring for the strangers or aliens living in the land is that the children of Israel were once strangers themselves. The Old Testament and Jesus and Paul in the New Testament all say, “Love your neighbor as yourself” (in fact, Paul says this immediately following the passage in Romans 13 so inappropriately used by Attorney General Sessions). The writer to the Hebrews teaches that we should care for those in prison as if we were in prison with them, and those who are mistreated as if we ourselves were suffering. These are all variations of the Golden Rule: treat others as you want to be treated. What might it look like if we made a good faith effort to apply the Golden Rule to public policy, especially immigration policy?

I am frustrated beyond my ability to articulate by all the lies, obfuscation, disingenuousness, misinformation, and dissembling being propagated and repeated by various officials in the administration, especially the president himself. One of the most egregious is blaming the Democrats when his party is in control of Congress and he could personally reverse the “zero-tolerance” decision that has led to family separation.

Previous administrations struggled with the illegal immigration issue, and in their efforts to stem the flow didn’t always act humanely either.However, it feels to me like the current level of rhetoric against immigrants (even ones who want to come legally) is much greater than before, often preying on people’s fears of “the other.” This recent New York Times article helped me understand what happened before and what is happening now: How Trump Diverged from Other Presidents and Embraced a Policy of Separating Migrant Families.” 

A recent Politifact article also helps to explain the difference between what President Obama did and what is happening now. And here’s another one from NPR: “What We Know: Family Separation and ‘Zero-Tolerance’ at the Border.”

Administration officials have openly described the practice as a deterrent, but what if instead, we addressed the core reasons so many people try to come to the United States? How might the U.S. nonviolently and compassionately help to address some of the root causes of people becoming desperate enough to risk everything, including family separation, to make the journey? We know that many if not most of the countries that undocumented immigrants are fleeing are poor and violent (by the way, I hate the term “illegal alien” because it feels so dehumanizing). As one of the richest and most powerful nations in the world, with a history of welcoming immigrants (“Give me your tired, your poor,/Your huddled masses, yearning to breathe free”), what if the U.S. worked with other nations to create a better and more equitable world instead of alienating other democracies and selfishly proclaiming “America first”? We all live on this planet together and are interconnected more than ever before. What hurts one hurts us all, and what helps one helps us all. A Golden Rule philosophy makes so much more practical and moral sense to me that a zero-sum philosophy where there always have to be winners and losers.

Quite honestly, I don’t have the answer to the immigration issue, but I know that the current family separation practice is not the answer and it is not right. It often feels like this is one of those intractable and hopelessly complex issues to which there is no resolution. I think I understand why so many risk everything to try to come to the U.S., but then I also wonder why so many Americans don’t want them to come, sometimes even if they come in legally acceptable ways? The reasons often given include not wanting to give away (or share) limited resources to people who haven’t worked for them, protecting our jobs, or preventing crime – even though the truth is that most immigrants are hard-working, often do jobs that many Americans don’t want, and commit crimes at a lower rate than the rest of the population. I also suspect that a sizable number of Americans are motivated, perhaps despite themselves, by xenophobia (fear and distrust of that which is foreign or strange). Why, really, is it such a bad thing if more people come seeking the same better life our own ancestors did 50, 100, 200, 300, 400 years ago?

If we assume that the idea of countries with borders is a good thing, and believe that countries have the right and responsibility to control who and how many come in, then what is the best way to control those borders and protect national interests? What can we do that is more in keeping with the Golden Rule than separating families, criminalizing people seeking a better life or fleeing war and violence, and building more literal and figurative walls between us and and the rest of the world? I don’t have good answers, but I know we have to try harder to find ones that reflect our national values and the values of our faith. I am horrified and heartsick by the current situation and believe we must do better.

*Addendum: A clarification in the interest of truth. I learned that the toddler was NOT in fact separated from her mother, even though they are both being detained for crossing the border illegally. Some people seem to be suggesting that the fact that the child was not separated from her mother negates the value and credibility of the photo and condemns anyone who uses it to put a face on the human tragedy happening at the border. I am very happy that this child and her mother are together, but the truth is that 2,000+ children are still separated from their families and who knows how long it will take until they are reunited or IF they ever will be. 

On Not Giving In to Fear

Fear is an ugly thing. A couple days ago I wrote about how my own fears about potential responses to opinions I might express on social media sometimes keep me from standing up for what I believe is right – in this case, how we think about Syrian refugees. I could go on about other fears I’ve had or still have that sometimes cause me significant anxiety: cancer or other serious illness, something bad happening to a member of my family, financial concerns, interpersonal and organizational conflict, violence directed at me or someone I love, and so on. While these are fears I’ve faced personally, there are other more “global” fears that afflict many people to a greater or lesser extent: economic collapse and financial disaster, crime, loss of freedom and our way of life, persecution, death, catastrophic illness, and of course the big one right now, terrorism.

Fear of terrorism, specifically as perpetrated by extremist groups like ISIS or Al-Quaeda, is making many Americans irrational and/or mean-spirited, if you ask me. Witness the following:

• one presidential candidate didn’t completely disavow the idea of registering Muslims in the U.S. in some kind of database, and said that it might also be a good idea to close mosques;
• another made the unfortunate (and perhaps unintentional – I’m trying to give him the benefit of the doubt) comparison of Syrian refugees with rabid dogs;
• others suggest allowing only refugees who can verify they are Christian to enter the country;
• national polls show that a majority of Americans want to stop the flow (however small it has been so far) of Syrian refugees into the U.S.;
• the U.S. House of Representatives has passed a bill prohibiting Syrian and Iraqi refugees from entry into the United States until security and background protocols are strengthened (never mind that security for incoming refugees is already pretty strict) and the Senate is working on similar legislation;
• more than half of the nation’s governors have stated they will not accept refugees into their states;
• the comments sections after many online news stories about refugees are filled with hate, with truly vile sentiments being expressed by people, including some purporting to be Christians.

And we could go on. Presidential candidates and others are playing to our worst fears, and many people are allowing themselves to succumb to those fears against all reason.

This all makes me very sad and disheartened. While parallels to U.S. hysteria about Germans during World Wars I and II and about Japanese during World War II are not exact, they are close enough that they should give us pause. The same attitudes and fears that drove our response then seem prevalent today. Do we really want to repeat what we did when we rounded up Japanese people and sent them to internment camps, following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor? Have we learned nothing from history? And then there is the hypocrisy and blindness of being so concerned about the relatively small threat of being killed by terrorism here in the U.S. that we close our borders to refugees who are fleeing actual terrorism, while at the same time not having the national will to do much of anything about preventing the daily toll of death by gun violence in our streets, schools, and homes.

Fear is a powerful motivator, and I confess that it has motivated me far more often than I care to admit to think and act in ways that I wish I hadn’t. I really do understand the fear. But I don’t want to be ruled by it. Fear is not emotionally healthy and I don’t think it’s particularly helpful either, especially when it turns me into something other than my best self. Plus, for Christians, the Bible repeatedly tells us not to be afraid. During a particularly stressful time of my life a number of years ago, when I couldn’t sleep at night, I would quote Psalm 23 to myself, including these words: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” More often than not, I would soon fall asleep – not because the psalm was some magic potion, or because the fear was gone, but perhaps because I had focused on something other than the fear and been reminded of something/someone greater than myself and my fears.

Fortunately, there are rays of hope, decency, and compassion; not everyone is giving in to fear. Many religious organizations (such as Mennonite Central Committee, National Association of Evangelicals, and Sojourners) have categorically stated the need to reach out to Syrian refugees and remain faithful to the clear call of Scripture. My own Governor Tom Wolf of Pennsylvania has indicated that we will accept refugees into our state, despite the political backlash he is receiving. Many individual Christians are speaking out about the need to follow the biblical mandate to “welcome the stranger,” reminding us that Jesus himself was a refugee; many are making valiant efforts to counteract misinformation with facts, about what it actually takes to be able to enter the country as a refugee, for example. And many are trying to inject the toxic conversation with kindness, compassion, and common sense, often at the risk of being ridiculed and called horrible names. All of these things give me hope that we will all  come to our senses and live up to the values not only of our faith but also of our country.

I want to have the courage to stand up for what I believe is right and not give in to fear, to be compassionate and welcoming to people in great need, including refugees from Syria.

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind” (2 Timothy 1:7). 

 

 

 

 

Overcoming My “Opinephobia”

I started writing this post weeks ago, long before the latest terrorist attack in Paris. As I’ve watched, read, and listened to the news the last few days, particularly related to how we should respond to refugees from Syria, I decided I have to say something, to express an opinion about what I believe is right – which simply stated is that we must not give in to our fears and close our borders to those seeking refuge from violence and injustice. To explain why saying that in a social media platform like this is difficult for me, let me describe what I consider one of my afflictions.

I coined a new word – “opinephobia,” or fear of expressing an opinion – to describe the affliction. There is so much happening in the world these days that seems to need some kind of response, with sane and wise voices providing perspective. When events unfold in the world, fragments of blog posts often take form in my head as I try to make sense of what I think and believe. I usually don’t finish them, however, because: 1) I decide not to take the time to flesh them out; 2) so much has already been said and I feel like I can’t add anything new to the discussion; 3) my post could easily degenerate into some kind of rant, given my extreme frustration sometimes, and that wouldn’t be helpful; or 4) I’m reluctant to put myself out there – in short, I’m scared of the reaction I might get.

Number 4 is the one I’d like to unpack a bit. Why am I afraid to express an opinion or give my perspective when so many people seem to have no such fear, and when I believe it’s important to stand up for what one believes is right? Here are some possible reasons:

1. I fear judgment from those who will think I’m wrong, whether ideologically, theologically, biblically, morally, or whatever.
2. I recognize that issues are always complex, with many shades of gray, and I can’t account for all those shades of gray when expressing a simple opinion. (Someone recently said, “The gray middle is vanishing and all that’s left is the light and the dark.” While I understand what the person meant – he was expressing his opinion about the current state of affairs in the U.S. – I still see shades of gray in almost everything.)
3. I fear the mean-spiritedness that could be directed at me or those I care about. I don’t like it when people are angry with me!
4. I fear being unable to express clearly what I mean and as a consequence being misunderstood.
5. I recognize I probably don’t have all the facts, and don’t want to appear ignorant.
6. I am well aware that equally sincere and well-meaning people I like and respect often see things quite differently, and I fear that people with whom I disagree will feel like I am judging them.
7. Perhaps I also fear that even though my opinion is deeply held, I could be wrong and I don’t want to have to admit I’m wrong. (Hard to admit that fear!)

These fears are a little odd, I suppose, because for more than 35 years, I’ve been expressing my opinions in print publications on many difficult and controversial topics. Those opinions are not always in the mainstream of public opinion. This is particularly true when it comes to my commitment to nonviolence, which often leads to less than popular opinions on issues like guns, the death penalty, and war (I’m opposed to all three). I can be fairly fearless in print, speaking the truth as I see it while also recognizing that not everyone will agree with me. Why am I able to do it there but have more difficulty doing it here in this blog, on other social media, or in letters to the editor or online comments sections of various news outlets? Why is it so difficult to have the courage of my convictions in these contexts? I fear the response and I dislike the nasty turn so many online discussions can take.

This is not to say that nothing I’ve written or edited for print has ever received a negative response. But when the response comes by land mail or email to me personally, it’s easier to handle, perhaps because the disagreement is not immediately public and I have more time to think about how to respond. I can cool down from the initial emotional impact (if the letter seems unfair or is hurtful), consider the pros and cons of what the person said, and carefully craft a response that explains why I said what I did, perhaps apologizes for my lack of clarity or for over-stating something, but also acknowledges the value and the validity of the person’s critique. There’s time for nuance and a recognition of complexity that often seems impossible or impractical in the instantaneous world of social media. Online, some people seem able to fire back at will with rebuttals and counter-arguments, while it takes me awhile to formulate what I want to say and how I want to say it, and by then the moment has passed. Also, in online forums, often those who comment make personal attacks or come to wrong conclusions about the kind of person you are, based on what you thought was a simple and honest opinion. And then, of course, there is the issue of my introverted and basically shy self asserting itself, not to mention my long-standing dislike of conflict and desire to avoid it whenever possible.

When I first started writing this, I was thinking of opinions I would like to express on the Black Lives Matter movement, criminal justice, presidential candidates who seem to be the embodiment of the title character in the fairy tale “The Emperor With No Clothes,” gun violence and gun control, and the Iran nuclear agreement, to name a few. Right now, I’m thinking especially of the recent terrorist attack in Paris and the resulting efforts to close our borders to refugees from Syria because of fears that we will be vulnerable to a terrorist attack in the U.S. I understand those fears – as someone who fears many things I wish I didn’t – but I am convinced that we should not let those fears rule us. When people, and especially Christians, call for closed borders and/or only accepting Christian refugees, I am, quite frankly, appalled and embarrassed. In what Christian universe is this okay? Whatever happened to biblical principles like these: “show hospitality to strangers” (Heb. 13:1); “I was a stranger and you welcomed me” (Matt. 25:35); “You shall also love the stranger, for you were strangers” (Deut. 10:19); “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you…Do to others as you would have them do to you” (Luke 6:27-31).

Particularly, at this time of year, when (as various people have helpfully pointed out on my Facebook news feed) we celebrate the birth of Jesus who with Mary and Joseph had to flee death and become a refugee, it seems like the height of irony and hypocrisy for Christians to refuse to welcome refugees and strangers. (Or to quote a recent tweet: “If only we had a seasonally appropriate story about middle eastern people, seeking refuge, being turned away by the heartless.”) Let’s be Christian in the most grace-filled and compassionate sense of that word, refuse to give in to our fears, and open our hearts, minds, and hands to do what is right and what our faith tells us we should do. And that’s my opinion!