MARCHA 40th Anniversary Assembly
Lydia Patterson Institute – El Paso, Texas
August 12, 2011
Casting the Vision
Keynote address of Bishop Minerva Carcaño of the Phoenix Episcopal Area
Brothers and Sisters, thanks be to God for MARCHA; an instrument of God’s own mercy and grace. I believe that you would agree with me when I say that we, individually and collectively, would not have come thus far if it were not for God’s faithfulness and the efforts of those Hispanic/Latino leaders who have gone before us. I certainly know that I would not be in the privileged place that I am in if it were not for you who have labored earnestly and courageously over these last 40 years. And I know that The United Methodist Church would not be where it is today if it were not for efforts like those of MARCHA.
Did you know that today there are in The United Methodist Church 436 Hispanic/Latino congregations 1330 Hispanic/Latino communities of faith, and 200 Hispanic/Latino outreach ministries. Gracias sean dadas a Dios! These congregations, communities of faith, and outreach ministries are a sign of God’s good work among us. The Holy Spirit is touching lives with grace, abundant grace, and we have been an instrument of God’s good and faithful work. There are today many more Hispanic/Latino leaders in the church and in the world because of those who have called themselves MARCHA. But there is yet much work to be done, sacred work that I know will bless us and bless others if we will but be faithful to the one we claim as Lord and Savior. There are tasks to be done and new challenges to face. Above all we must always remember that we are on a journey of a life time for we have committed to walk with God, led by Christ Jesus, and encouraged and supported by the Holy Spirit.
Among the tasks yet to be done is the ongoing task of fighting the evil of racism until it is done with, eradicated, eliminated, dead and buried. We are on the way but not quite there. I want to challenge us to address the two faces of racism: the racism inflicted on us and others, and the racism that we inflict upon ourselves. It is true that we have come a long way. Multicultural churches, integrated schools and neighborhoods, people of color, Hispanic/Latino among them, serving in the highest places of leadership in church and in society are some of the signs of how far we have come in overcoming racism in this country. You will remember that when President Barack Obama was elected President of the United States some declared that we had moved beyond the limitations of race or racism; that we had moved into a post-race era. While the election of a person of color to the highest position in this country is a great marker on the way to overcoming racism, it is only a marker.
No sooner had President Obama assumed the office of President when racism reared its ugly head. Was he truly an American? Was he Christian? As a centrist moderate he was suddenly identified as a radical and perhaps even a communist liberal. If that isn’t all blatant racism then I don’t know what is. But the situation is worse than what we all knew would come for President Obama because he is a person of color.
In May of this year the Wall Street Journal published a startling article under the headline, White Americans see Anti-White Bias on the Rise. “Where,” I thought, “does any one see Anti-White bias growing?” Well perhaps in Arizona where certain White leaders have fanned the hate mongering fires of racism against Hispanic/Latinos around the immigration issue, or in Kansas where a state representative dared to publically state that the way to deal with immigrants was to shoot them down like wild pigs, or in Alabama, where Hispanic/Latino children have been targeted for exclusion from school if they can’t show up with documents to prove they are in this country legally. How do people expect others to respond to their racist hatred? Logical thought would lead one to understand that one will bring upon one’s self the rejection of others if they act in vicious, hate-filled ways, but a true racial bias that takes away opportunities for a good and productive life for Whites is not the problem in this country. Racism and its biases and prejudices is still in the hands of those who have power over others and it isn’t Hispanics/Latinos or other people of color.
The Wall Street Journal article was on a survey done by Michael I. Norton, of Harvard Business School, and Samuel R. Sommers, a professor of psychology at Tufts University. While the survey included only Whites and Blacks, the conclusions of the survey affect all of us. The bottom line of the survey is that by this decade, the perception of White Americans had become one of believing that Anti-White bias had grown to be a greater social problem than anti-Black bias. Norton and Summer quickly point out that there is no objective measurement to prove this. In employment, police treatment, loan rates and in education, people of color still do poorer than Whites. So there is no clear indication that there is a growing Anti-White sentiment or bias in this country. What there is, however, is what Norton and Sommers have discovered is a rather interesting White perspective on racism. Their studies show that some Whites believe that if people of color get ahead in the world it must be because they, the White population is falling behind. It is a deficit perspective on life rather than an asset understanding.
I am grateful for the work of Professor Gregory Rodriguez the executive director of the Center for Social Cohesion at Arizona State University for helping us to unpack this provocative survey. Rodriguez reminds us that there are only four states in the U.S. in which “non-Hispanic Whites” aren’t in the majority, and that regardless of demographic shifts in the country this reality isn’t going to change much in the near future. Rodriguez also reports that the Public Religion Research Institute has found that 56% of Republicans, 57% of White evangelicals and 61% of ‘tea party’ sympathizers think discrimination against Whites has become as big a problem as discrimination against minorities.” Rodriguez believes this is bad news, and I tend to agree with him. The bad news is that “now both majority and minority populations are fighting for status and respect with no one looking out for the common good.” This focus on parochial interests states Rodriguez, “leaves a vacuum at the center of U.S. life.” I see it happening even in our United Methodist Church.
I can’t begin to tell you the number of times I have been questioned as a bishop about whether my priorities will fall on the side of defending and supporting Hispanic/Latinos as opposed to defending and supporting all United Methodists. When I have spoken out in defense of immigrants, I have been accused by United Methodists from my area and from throughout the connection of only doing so because as you can see from my face, I am one of them. When disagreements in the church between certain White leaders and me become deep and intense and even tense, rather than it being seen as a moment of holy conferencing, or a means of grace in which we seek God’s will for the common good as John Wesley would say, I am accused of endangering the whole church and have been told that I bring shame to the episcopal office and should be removed. I know that our other Hispanic/Latino bishops have experienced the same. Perhaps our White brothers and sisters are right; these are not moments of holy conferencing, but rather moments when we see just how alive our institutional racism is.
I cannot leave this concern of racism without surfacing the fact that it is not just a struggle that affects us from the outside. It is a struggle deep within us as well. I am speaking of our internalized racism. We have unfortunately believed the lies about ourselves; that we are not as capable or as intelligent or as gifted or as worthy as our White brothers and sisters. I will confess to you that it is a tape that I can’t seem to completely turn off in my own head. Fifty seven years of having these lies drilled into my very being has had its profound impact on my life, and I know that I am not alone.
Brothers and sisters, I need to say that I believe that we do not have more Hispanic/Latino bishops in the church because of institutional racism but also because of our internalized racism. How many times have we found ourselves acquiescing and saying to this racist church of ours, this racist church of ours that we love so much, “You are right, our Latino leaders are not as capable or as intelligent or as gifted or as worthy as our White brothers and sisters and really shouldn’t be bishops unless you our White brothers and sisters say they can be.” That’s at one end of the spectrum of our life together, but then there is the other end of the spectrum which is this – our total disregard for and sometimes our hatred of our Latino/Hispanic immigrant brothers and sisters.
All across this country United Methodists are advocating for the human rights of the immigrant through compassionate care and through efforts to gain comprehensive immigration reform. The great majority of the more than 11 million undocumented immigrants in this country are Hispanic/Latino. In contrast, the number of United Methodist Hispanic/Latino persons working in behalf of these immigrant brothers and sisters is miniscule, and in some places totally absent, including in the annual conference where I serve. To make matters worse, too many of our Hispanic/Latino church members have joined the ranks of those who say, “boot these immigrants out of here and build a higher wall so they don’t come back.” I have no way of understanding this United Methodist Hispanic/Latino sentiment without seeing internalized racism. Our immigrant brothers and sisters are a reminder of who we are, where we have come from, and how we have been treated, and its makes us uncomfortable and reactionary.
But this venomous boil on our collective flesh that threatens our very existence as a Hispanic/Latino community with all that we can contribute to the world, will not heal through the rejection of those who have more recently come to this country. We must together lance that ugly, life-threatening boil if true healing in the spirit of our Christian faith is to come. The life of our churches, the life of The United Methodist, and the life of our communities depends on our overcoming our internalized racism alongside overcoming the ongoing institutional racism in the church and in the world.
We must continue to do holy battle against racism in the church and in the world building coalitions among ourselves, with other people of color, and other persons of good will. But we must remember that it is not just for our sake but for the sake of all God’s children, for we all suffer the effects of this great sin. Wherever and whenever racism is allowed to stand we are all relegated to being less than we could be and should be as persons of sacred worth equally created in the image and likeness of God.
Racism is the box we have been in as Hispanic/Latinos, both in the church and in the world, but it is time to break out of that box and fully be the people of God. We do not have to wait for the day when racism is banished, though that day will come by God’s grace. I believe that we can even today, stand as the people of God. It will, however, require that we refocus our attention. While much good work has been done over the last 40 years we have of late become, in my opinion, too inwardly focused. Our approach to ministry and mission has been affected by the time and energy we give to getting our piece of The United Methodist pie. While there is merit in challenging the institutional church to use its resources in ways that demonstrate the values of inclusivity, diversity, and justice, I fear that we have become dependent on others to fund and maintain our ministries. It is time for us as Latino/Hispanic United Methodists who have been a part of this church for a life-time to become self-supporting and self-directing for while we have eaten our portion of the connectional pie, our Hispanic/Latino communities languish, hungry for the manna of God’s gracious hand, manna that we should be sharing with the world. Can we be the people of God in the best of our Wesleyan tradition; a people of personal piety and social holiness? I pray so.
Did you see the New York Times front page story last Sunday about the prayer event sponsored by Texas Governor Rick Perry? Thirty thousand people showed up at a stadium in Houston. There is a large picture of the people with their hands outstretched to heaven in prayer and right smack in the middle of the picture you see a number of Hispanics. The article stated that Governor Perry is a life-long Methodist but he attends an evangelical megachurch in Austin, TX. I don’t know how one can claim to be a life-long Methodist and attend a church of another denomination. I don’t understand. The event was called The Response: A Call to Prayer for a Nation in Crisis. There has been much controversy over this prayer event around the issue of the separation of church and state, and even a judicial challenge and ruling. What I see in all of this, however, is our failure as the church to provide for the deep spiritual needs of persons all around us. People yearn for God’s intervention in the struggles of life and we have left it up to politicians, tea parties, and political pundits to fill the need. Where are there among us those vibrant places, sacred spaces for prayer and Christian community that invoke and expect the outpouring of God’s Holy Spirit with power and promise?
Growing up at the southern end of this state of Texas I remember that one of my mother’s favorite faith stories was about prayer. Rev. Simon Nieto was the pastor of our home church at the time. A terrible drought swept over this state, destroying crops and livestock and undermining the economic well-being of the entire state but especially of the already poor, Hispanic/Latinos being the largest group of poor people in this state then and now. Well one good Sunday Rev. Nieto announced that the church was going to get on its knees and pray for rain. He said to the congregation, “I believe that if we will pray with all the faith within us, God will be faithful and send us showers of blessing, and will do so before this week is over.” That Sunday they prayed all day, with Rev. Nieto giving direction for how they would pray all week if necessary.
Monday came along and it was hot and dry. Tuesday was the same. On Wednesday after no rain the congregation showed up for Wednesday bible study and prayer a bit sheepishly because apparently their prayers weren’t being heard by God. Rev. Nieto refused to be discouraged. In fact he told them that they were to continue praying and on Sunday they were to come to church with their umbrellas because it would surely rain. By Saturday the only thing that had come was a nasty wind that stirred the dust and made the drought that much more unbearable. Sunday morning heard the grumbling of a congregation that had prayed all week for rain and seen not a single cloud; a congregation that felt humiliated and embarrassed by a pastor who insisted that they show up to church with umbrellas. Well some did and some didn’t, but Rev. Nieto had the biggest umbrella of all!
As worship began, that good pastor led his congregation in prayer; a prayer of thanksgiving for God’s faithfulness and God’s tender care for his people. Suddenly in the quiet of prayer they heard a sound, gentle at first and then growing into a thunderous clap. It was raining! By the time that congregation finished its Sunday service and stepped out into the rain, the unpaved streets were flooded. “The mud came up to our ankles,” my mother would say with great joy. This was the same woman who years later would tell me in the middle of a cotton field that I thought would consume us, “Mijita, remember, we can do all things in Christ Jesus who strengthens us.”
She was a woman nurtured in prayer by faithful pastors who refused to allow the people of God to forget that there is power and promise in the prayers that people of faith lift up to God.
We must refocus our attention and once again intentionally provide those sacred spaces and opportunities for persons to learn and grow in the disciplines of prayer, the study of Holy Scripture, the participation in worship, the receiving of the sacraments and all the means of grace. Hispanic/Latino persons yearn for the personal relationship with God that these disciplines provide, as do all God’s children.
As United Methodists, however, we know that personal piety is incomplete and can become corrupted without the expression and balance of social holiness. In his sermon about visiting the sick based on Matthew 25, John Wesley speaks about the fact that one cannot truly care for another if one does not go to their side and minister to them, present for them in the flesh. But ministering to the sick in the world be they physically, spiritually, economically, or socially ill, is not only about what happens to the sick when we visit them and minister to them, but what happens to us. Wesley believes, in good biblical understanding, that going out into the world to serve the needs of the suffering and afflicted is a means of grace that allows us to be transformed. He is so bold as to say that every time we Methodists lose our social holiness we lose our spirit, our vitality, our growth, our vision; we lose our way.
How will the world believe that we serve a Lord who cares for the suffering and afflicted, the rejected and the abandoned, the lost and the hopeless if they never see us out in the world in ministry with these whom Jesus loves? We Hispanic/Latino United Methodists have become too comfortable, too self-absorbed, too dependent on others to take care of us. As a result we have lost our spirit, our vitality, our growth, our vision; often we have lost our way. But the God whom we serve is a God of grace who gives us every opportunity to step out and be relevant in the world in the precious and healing name of Christ Jesus.
There is much work to be done out in the world for those of us who claim to be Christians. I have mentioned the need for work in the area of immigration, but there is also the need to work in behalf of children, in behalf of women, and in behalf of our Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender children.
It is said that the greatest casualties of the great recession we have been experiencing may well be a decade of lost children. A report of the Children’s Defense Fund issued just last month, clearly demonstrates that the recent economic recession has had a catastrophic impact on our children. Here are some of the findings:
- The number of children living in poverty has increased by four million since 2000;
- The number of homeless children in public schools increased 41% between 2006-2007 and the 2008-2009 school years;
- In 2009, an average of 15.6 million children were dependent on monthly food stamps, a 65% percent increase over 10 years;
- A majority of children in all racial groups and 79% or more of black and Hispanic children in public schools cannot read or do math at grade level in the fourth, eighth or 12th grades.
Charles M. Blow, a New York Times columnist states that “the recession is crushing a generation,”….. and that “we risk the creation of an engorged generational underclass born of a culture that has less income equality and fewer prospects for mobility than the previous generation.” Do our children not deserve our best efforts for justice in their behalf and in the name of Christ Jesus who said, “Let the children come to me.”
Down the same negative trajectory did you know that today 25% of Hispanic/Latino women live in poverty? Did you know that their reproductive rights are being undermined through the slashing of funds for Planned Parenthood, a long standing service agency that has cared not only for women struggling with difficult pregnancies and possibly facing the need for abortions, but that has also provided family planning services for women, care for women facing reproductive related cancers, and basic women’s health screenings, mammograms and pap smears. With the loss of these services Hispanic/Latino women will suffer physically and will fall further behind economically, and when Hispanic/Latino women suffer, the entire family suffers.
And then there is the suffering of our Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender children, who face double and triple discrimination because they are Hispanic/Latino, Brown and sometimes Black, and they are homosexual. With other LGBT persons they are being bullied and pushed to suicide in growing numbers, often after having been ostracized by their neighbors, their friends, their families, their communities of faith and even their pastors.
For too long we Hispanic/Latinos have said that the issue of homosexuality is a White concern, but it is not, for every single one of our families, every single one of our Hispanic/Latino congregations also include those who are homosexual. You and I know who they are, and we know not only their suffering but their love of Christ Jesus and the gifts they bring to our lives, the life of our congregations and to the world. It is time to recognize these facts and determine whether we truly believe what we claim when we say that all God’s children are of sacred worth, all equally deserve just, humane, and loving treatment, and all are in need of the ministry of the church.
These are some of the critical social concerns of our day. There are others, some of a broader perspective like war, the negative impact of globalization on the world’s economy and cultures, unemployment, violence, and a culture dependent on drugs and arms. I have chosen to speak about the concerns I have because they are critical concerns but concerns that we tend to forget. The point is that whatever the people we are called to serve are suffering, we must be among them, as those who extend mercy, as advocates, and seekers of justice. Our failure to do so will weaken our witness of Christ Jesus who came that the world might be redeemed, saved and transformed.
Finally, I want to remind us that we are on a journey of faith. We are the people who have said that we follow the Christ wherever he leads. It is a journey sustained by much prayer, trust in God, and the confidence of a faith that believes that God is breaking into human history and transforming the world even as we journey forth to the day of the full consummation of the reign of God. It is a journey of faith and discipleship blessed by the assurance of the Holy Spirit that along the way we will see Christ Jesus as surely as the disciples on the road to Emmaus saw him.
I shared with you earlier that I get accused of working with immigrants because I am one of them. Well, I am. I am the daughter of immigrants, and I do hope and pray that my work among immigrants honors my immigrant ancestors, and is used by God to bring some measure of redemption to the suffering they experienced as immigrants, and to the suffering of immigrants yet among us. But none of this is the primary reason I am committed to this work. I am committed to working with and among immigrants because in the midst of it all, I always see Christ Jesus and every once in a while, I catch a glimpse of the reign of God.
One day I went to the border with a staff member from my conference. We went to spend a long weekend serving immigrants in Nogales on the Mexican side of the border. We were at a place called the Mariposa station where a tent has been set up over the years to receive immigrants who are detained in the U.S. and then dropped at the border like garbage and told to go back to where they came from. We joined other Christians, and people who are not Christians but who have a good heart and are concerned about the plight of the immigrant. At that tent immigrants are given a bit of Ramen soup, some water, supported in any way possible, helped with some orientation. People wash the feet of the immigrants and cut away blisters from their feet. I have never seen more horrible blisters on a human body than the blisters on the feet of immigrants.
We had had a long day serving the immigrants and I thought that we were at the end of our work for the day. The last bus had come and was leaving, but then someone shouted out, “there’s one more and he’s hurt, hurt badly.” Bill and I began to walk toward the bus that had dropped off the immigrants when we saw him. He was a young man and as he got off the bus we saw him struggle, he was holding on to one of his legs, and we watched as he hobbled toward us. Bill and I began to walk faster toward him wanting to extend some support to him, to come alongside him and sustain him.
We came to the young man’s side and asked him if he was alright. He told us that he was exhausted from 4 days in the desert, and 3 days in detention with little food or water but that he was alright. One of us asked him about his leg and he said that he had been born with that bad leg. With that bad leg he had come all that way.
It wasn’t until we had determined that this young man was alright that we saw that he was not alone. Behind him were two children hanging on to his shirttail, hiding behind him, perhaps a sign of the trauma they had been through. They were his children. It was a 10 year old girl named Jocelyn and an 8 year old boy named Melvin. Good Mexican names!
We brought them back to the tent and I sat before this father and began to wash his feet. They were from Chiapas, Mexico and he told me that he was a corn farmer but our NAFTA (North American Free Trade Agreement) had undermined his farm and left him unable to feed his family. I asked him where his wife was. He told me that she was critically ill, and they had no money for food nor for her medical care and in despair he had done all he could figure out to do. He had joined the immigrant journey hoping to find a way to provide food and care for his family. He had had to bring his children with him because he’d left his wife behind with her elderly parents and at their age they could not care for them as well.
At one point the father got quiet and I watched as tears began to roll down his cheeks and then he said to me, “On the fourth day out in the desert without food or water my little boy fainted and I thought I had lost him.” Jocelyn and Melvin were hanging on to their father’s shoulders one on each side, listening to their own story. I had to look away because the moment had to focus on this father and his children and not on me. I gulped my emotions and finally looked up and said to Melvin, “Melvin, you are a very brave boy.” Without looking at me Melvin looked across his father’s shoulders to his sister and said, “I’m not as brave as my sister. She never fainted.” It was a tender moment of love.
When we left the care tent and said goodbye to Jocelyn, and Melvin and their father, after having said goodbye to the 5 or 6 other immigrants still left at the tent, I looked at Bill and without speaking a word instinctively we emptied our pockets of all the money we had, which wasn’t much, and we gave it to Jocelyn and Melvin’s father. We felt that with two little children he was the most in need of help. As we gave this father the money we had we heard some movement among the other immigrants. I sensed that they were expecting that we might consider giving them some financial help as well. As we left I looked straight ahead not being able to face the other immigrants for I could not help them in the same way. But then I began to hear those words that touch the heart…”Gracias mi hermano…gracias mi hermano…gracias mi hermano.” Then out of the corner of my eye I saw Jocelyn and Melvin’s father turn and share what little we had given him with the other immigrants. It was the sound and the sight of the reign of God!
My prayer is that in the years to come, MARCHA, all of us, will be faithful agents of God’s grace in our communities, in the church and in the world, overcoming all that stands in the way of God’s good work among us, strengthened by a commitment to personal and social holiness, and faithful to journeying with Jesus all the way to the reign of God.