Rabbi Biatch, Temple Beth El Sermon
Sermon for Kol Nidrei – 5768
G’mar Chatimah Tovah – May we all be secure for a year of prosperity and peace!
Tonight I have two stories that I want to share with you. They are stories of immigrants. One immigrant’s story begins like this:
“Jacob set out from Beersheva, where the sons of Israel put their father Jacob and their children and their wives in the wagons that Pharaoh had sent to transport him. They also took along their livestock and the wealth that they had amassed in the land of Canaan. Thus Jacob and all his offspring with him came to Egypt. [Yes,] my father was a fugitive Aramean. He went down to Egypt with meager numbers and sojourned there; but there he became a great and very populous nation.”[1]
Another immigrant’s story begins like this:
“I'm Honduran. I love my country, but it was time for me to leave. Why? There is no work now . . .
“Even though we worked from 7am to 5pm, they gave us only 40 minutes to eat lunch. We had to ask permission to get a drink of water. We were not allowed to stand up if our work was done sitting. If your work was done standing, you couldn't sit down.
“They'd warn us, they'd put out a goal of 1,000 pieces of clothing; it would depend on your particular job. If you did it quickly, the next day they would raise or multiply the amount of work you had to do and lower the wage for that job or the price, so that someone would kill herself working, but earn less than what she had before.
“I thought, and I continue to think, that this is unjust, that it is robbery, because the worker deserves a good salary, a decent wage. It doesn't matter if you work all day, as long as they pay what they should pay.
“When our government put some pressure on the companies so that they would pay overtime, some of them removed their factories from Honduras in order to go to even cheaper countries. They left thousands and thousands without work.
“When I found myself without a job, I decided to become an emigrant, because I have two children to provide for. Without work, I couldn't give them what they needed.
“In addition, I was five months pregnant, and the father of my baby insisted that I get an abortion. He almost convinced me – in my head, yes, but in my heart, he couldn't. He gave me a little bit of money for it, but with the money, I embarked upon my journey.
“On April 11th at 10 o'clock in the morning, I said goodbye to my children and told them that if we never see each other again, that they must not forget the good ways I have taught them, that they must behave themselves.”[2]
My friends,
We Jews have been telling the story of the first immigrant for years. Most of us have committed it to memory through Torah study and Passover Seder table talk.
Now it is time for us to take the words of Torah to heart, and forge a true and empathetic connection with the story and experiences of that second immigrant. Thirty-seven times in the Torah we are reminded that the stranger who resides with us shall be treated no differently than ourselves. How much longer until we fulfill this biblical mandate for equality?!
For just as ancient Egypt suffered because of its maltreatment of its immigrant population, so, too, will our nation continue to suffer if we cannot handle in better fashion those immigrants who, just like our ancestors, came to American shores looking to better themselves and their economic lives.
In that first immigrant’s story, we are told that the Israelites came to Egypt with great affluence. And Egypt – the new host nation – found ways to take advantage of that wealth, as well as intellectual and political wisdom, for its national advantage.
In that second immigrant’s story, the new host nation – namely the United States – also has found a way to exploit this low-wage labor force. Earning minimum wage (at best), these immigrants perform tasks that few others would do, and many employers gladly take advantage of this inexpensive worker pool in order to enlarge their profits.
Of course, this enables all of us to pay lower prices for our goods and services, and so, in a way, we are complicit in this difficult situation.
* * *
The fact that would-be immigrants violate our immigration laws is lamentable, and maybe deplorable. But they don’t cross the border simply for the thrill of it. These are desperate actions of those who wish to protect their families’ lives.
Some Americans would call what we have an “immigration problem.” But I think that “immigration” is only one aspect of a complex set of issues. Crossing the border in an illegal fashion is but one issue. We confront an intricate set of personal and political dilemmas, involving legal, social, economic, civil rights, cultural, and security concerns. And if we merely turn America into just another gated community, we will not have addressed the core of the problems.
* * *
We know the heart of the stranger, having been strangers in the land of Egypt. So it is no wonder that the demands of our tradition, and our movement in particular, have asked us to bear our Israelite ancestors’ experience in mind when we deal with these matters. This is what our movement reminds us:
“Our people were and continue to be immigrants to this nation. We have benefited from its open doors, and suffered when they were closed. We struggled to adjust to a society that did not always welcome our arrival. We understand the problems faced by today's immigrants, as well as the difficulties attributable to the problem of illegal immigration.”[3]
Therefore does our tradition say to us, ‘get involved.’
For whatever reason, this is really our problem. And these are the specifics:
We have not enforced well an already existing set of migration laws.
Our nation is too large to seek out and prosecute those here without proper documentation.
We actually appreciate and benefit from foreign workers who performing menial tasks, though we don’t always like to acknowledge it. Therefore we shrink from the task of changing the status quo, even though that pathway is the moral one to take.
We have not persuaded our Latin American neighbors – and other governments in the world – to share our vision, hard-fought as it might be, of providing a living wage and humane working conditions.
* * *
The next part of the first immigrant’s story continues like this:
“The Egyptians dealt harshly with us and oppressed us; they imposed heavy labor upon us. We cried to the Eternal, the God of our ancestors, and the Eternal heard our plea and saw our plight, our misery, and our oppression.”[4]
The second immigrant’s story also concerns her relationship with figures of authority:
“Isn't it strange? [The police] took [away] my husband, struggling to make a few dollars for food and rent, but still on the street corner in front of Eckerd's on Washington is the man who put a pistol to my chest to steal the little chain around my neck.
“This is the problem: the drug people, the prostitutes, (male and female) and those who cruise the area looking for an AIDS-free population are still on the street, but those who want to work have been deported by Immigration. The troublemakers are even on Spanish TV giving their commentary, still there after the raid, because they are legal.
“We went to our Councilwoman, to seek help in cleaning up the streets, because there is so much crime in the area, and she responded positively – we thought. We collaborated with the police who called us and met with us. We didn't protest the zero tolerance of the police in the area that was first-class harassment of the day laborers.
“What did we get from the city for trying to clean up the neighborhood? Immigration busting into Casa Juan Diego at 6:00 a.m. on the Feast of the Day of the Dead, posing as labor contractors (offering $5.00 an hour), entering our property and even trying to drag men off who refused to leave their home at Casa Juan Diego.”[5]
* * *
Tomorrow afternoon, we will read from Leviticus chapter 19, a passage of the Torah known as “the Holiness Code”. Part of the genius of Leviticus was this unambiguous call for justice for the underdog in society. It is not called the “Holiness Code” because it, itself, is sacred. Rather it calls upon us to act in sacred ways toward other human beings:
“When a stranger resides with you in your land, you shall not wrong him. The stranger who resides with you shall be to you just as one of your citizens; you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I the Eternal am your God.”[6]
How can we possibly reconcile these words, whose purpose is to imbue our lives with sanctity by helping those in need, with the way in which we have treated newcomers to this nation, who have to face incoherent, and inconsistently applied immigration laws, and constant harassment?!
Our nation has not yet been able to arrive to a consensus about what must be done. I realize that this is not an easy set of problems to address, but early in his first term, President Bush offered a helpful set of objectives when he said, “Immigration is not a problem to be solved. It is the sign of a confident and successful nation. And people who seek to make America their home should be met in that spirit by representatives of our government. New arrivals should be greeted not with suspicion and resentment, but with openness and courtesy.”[7]
Of course, the President said these words on July 10, 2001 – two months before Nine-Eleven. And since that fateful day, our nation has been consumed by a war on terror that has been so mistakenly focused on Iraq that we have neglected the need to think concretely about and act to improve our economic security, our civil rights security, and our societal security. I read that the only so-called ‘immigration’ bill that both the House and Senate could agree on last year was the one that authorized the construction of a 700-mile fence along the U.S.-Mexico border.[8]
* * *
A comprehensive solution to the problems of our economic and border security is out there, waiting to be discovered. I do not have the expertise to suggest concrete legislative solutions, but I would offer a thought about one aspect of the situation.
Again, this is not solely a problem of immigrants illegally crossing a border. A true solution will also involve our government creating regulations in many areas: business, homeland security, civil rights, health and welfare, and education.
But more importantly, we cannot overlook the subject of amnesty.
But when we speak of amnesty, we have to consider, first and foremost, our own sins. So far:
· We have failed to resolve the lax security standards along our border.
· We have not fully and completely prosecuted employers who hire immigrants without proper documentation.
· We have not compelled United States manufacturers to maintain humane working conditions in factories in foreign countries, nor have we been successful in convincing foreign governments to regulate more strictly our manufacturers within their borders.
· We have allowed sweatshops to remain within our own borders, which rely on illegal immigrant workers who have no recourse when working conditions are dangerous and wages stay inadequate.
In effect, we have offered amnesty to ourselves in the face of these illegal, immoral, and irresponsible acts. Since we have allowed ourselves forgiveness for our lapses of behavior, our nation ought to concede and grant a large degree of amnesty to those who have done nothing more than try to provide a better life for their families.
I say this especially mindful of the message of this day of Yom Kippur. To solve our problems, we follow the pathway of teshuvah, repentance:
We acknowledge our mistakes.
We take responsibility for our missteps
We accept the consequences for our errors.
And we commit ourselves to change for the better.
A comprehensive plan has the potential of helping all Americans, new and old, by bringing greater national strength. We can repair the fallen walls of our nation, and at the same time, restore the pathways of life for those who, like our own ancestors – whose stories are definitely real – came to these American shores looking for a place to live and thrive like mentches.
* * *
You may recall the immigrants’ stories with which I began my remarks. As we know, the first immigrants’ story ends like this, with much gratitude and sacrifice:
“The Eternal freed us from Egypt by a mighty hand, by an outstretched arm and awesome power, and by signs and portents. God brought us to this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. Wherefore I now bring the first fruits of the soil which You, O God, have given me.”[9]
The second immigrant’s story is not yet complete. I do believe, however, that they have the potential to find their milk and honey one day. I pray that, soon, they find safety and success in their new lives.
L’shanah Tovah!
[1] Genesis 46:4-7; Deuteronomy 26:5-7
[2] Casa Juan Diego, Houston, TX, http://www.cjd.org/stories/catalina.html
[4] Deuteronomy 26:5
[6] Leviticus 19:33-34
[9] Deuteronomy 26:8-9, 11, 15
University United Methodist Church on September 9,2007 by Craig Myrbo as part of the Immigrant Worker in the Pulpit Program
Ruth 2:7-13-What would Boaz do?
The presentations today are sponsored by the Interfaith Coalition for Worker Justice of South Central Wisconsin (ICWJ). ICWJ is a coalition of faith bodies, unions and individual people of faith and union members dedicated to justice for workers, especially low wage workers. It is affiliated with the nationwide organization Interfaith Worker Justice.
In the book of Ruth we read: “In the days the Bushes ruled there was a certain man ….”That’s not what your version says? The theologian Karl Barth said that he approached the world with a Bible in one hand a newspaper in the other.
Today I will talk about how the bible relates to the events of today and Ricardo will then tell his personal story.
The Book of Ruth is in the Old Testament after the Book of Judges. It is a short book that tells a single simple story. Naomi was an Israelite woman who went to Moab with her husband and two sons. Her sons married local women in Moab. Moab is a despised foreign nation and an enemy to Israel. Naomi’s husband and sons all died leaving the three widows. Naomi and one of her daughters in law, Ruth, returned to Israel. At that time landless widows were economically insecure and had to depend on others for their support. Ruth and Naomi had family and economic connections to both Moab and Israel. Ruth was an immigrant who came to Bethlehem in order to “milk” the welfare system and be a drain on Israelite society. She gleaned. Gleaners gathered the leftovers from the edges of the fields. Boaz saw Ruth gleaning in his field and went out of his way to help her secure an economic and social place in society. Boaz went out of his way to help Ruth and Naomi. Boaz’s actions are consistent with the teaching of the Torah. In Leviticus we read commands to not harvest to the edge of your field but to purposely leave some of your crop for widows, orphans and sojourners (immigrants). There are also commands to not discriminate in the law between native Israelites and sojourners. Deuteronomy goes even further to command love for the sojourner because God loves the sojourner and commands people to show that love by providing food and clothing.
Later after time of Boaz and Ruth the prophets speak God’s judgment on Israel for its mistreatment of immigrants.
In Luke 10: 25-37 The Good Samaritan was a despised foreigner who went out of his way to help. Jesus told the story in answer to the question of who is my neighbor (to love) and it should include helping a despised foreigner.
What would Boaz do today? What are the parallels between the story of Ruth and Naomi and Boaz and the plight of immigrant workers today?
One parallel to the story of Ruth is the story of Elvira Arellano.
Elvira Arellano is an undocumented worker who has family and economic ties on both sides of the Mexican/U.S. border. Adalberto United Methodist Church in Chicago went out of its way to help by providing sanctuary to her for a full year. Three weeks ago she voluntarily left sanctuary. She was arrested and deported, separating her from her eight year old son who is a citizen of the U.S.
On the New Testament lesson: How can we be “Good Americans” when coyotes (smugglers) or unscrupulous employers and Immigration Customs Enforcement (I.C.E.) agents beat down immigrant workers and leave them in the desert or in destitution or in detention? How do we go out of our way to help? United Methodist Bishop Minerva Carcano of the Desert Southwest Conference fills water tanks in the desert to slake the thirst of the least of Christ’s brothers and sisters.
Who is my neighbor?
What would Boaz do? What would Jesus do? What would you do?
Listen to Ricardo and decide.