By Kathy Burken
On Deck
I live in Saint Paul, a few miles from where Renee Nicole Good was killed by ICE agents on Jan. 7. As a result, tens of thousands of people have been taking to the streets in protest. Many of my friends, family members, and neighbors have been on the front lines, not just protesting, but offering rides, food, and other forms of help to people who are too afraid to leave home alone, if at all. Ethnic restaurants and stores are closed, and many people in the service industry are not coming to work out of fear.
The man who processed my application for a passport, speaking to people ahead of me in Spanish, taught me a lesson. After he took my photo, I asked if he liked his job. He said, “I won’t be here much longer. I’m retiring in six months.” I asked if he planned to travel, and he said, “I’m leaving the country.” He looked straight into my eyes, and said, “Look at me. Look at the color of my skin. I’m a US citizen and a decorated war veteran. I am afraid for my life. I’m moving to Spain.” I said I was so sorry, and he said, “It’s not your fault.” I said, “I know, but I’m so sorry you have to go through this.” When I left, he said, “Be safe.” I said, “More about you right now.”
Most of the people I interact with are scared, too. Every day offers yet one more story, one more snapshot, one more video of the chaos and the violence.
We all have opinions about all of this. Jesus tells us to welcome the stranger. Pope Leo recently said that inhumane treatment of immigrants in the U.S. isn’t pro-life. Leviticus says, “When a foreigner resides among you in your land, do not mistreat them.”
I could go on, but you have heard religious leaders calling for peace, for mercy, for justice. So, what are we to do when we are so divided? Families are split because of their strong opinions, regardless of their faith or what their church teaches.
My hunch is that we are all scared, and perhaps for different reasons.
Never mind what color hat you wear, or what news station you listen to, or what letter is next to the name of the leader you most admire, one thing we as Catholics have in common is our Christian faith.
With that, we turn to prayer, we find common ground, we focus on our trust in God. We employ the virtues of faith, hope, and love. Does that sound simplistic? On the contrary, it is one of the most challenging spiritual practices you can undertake right now.
This isn’t about politics or solutions to the overwhelming problems we face. This is rather about joining our hearts and souls together as one community, in our shared humanity as the Body of Christ. What does Eucharist mean if not this?
We trust God, believing that God knows better than we do. We find ways to hope, not in a sense of hoping for something to happen, but hope in the good things we experience. We look for ways to love, to go beyond ourselves to make another’s life better.
How to trust God in this chaos? We listen to God in our prayer. When you feel courageous or peaceful, when a spark of joy appears, that is God’s voice in your heart.
How can we be hopeful when all seems lost? We simply state our intention each day to experience hope in small and big events occurring in the moment. And rejoice when they do!
How to find love when there is so much hate? We choose to act out of unity rather than division. We find common ground and follow our compassionate hearts to do what is right in God’s eyes.
(Kathy Berken is a spiritual director and retreat leader in St. Paul, Minnesota. She lived and worked at L’Arche in Clinton — The Arch from 1999-2009.)
