Jehová es mi pastor; nada me faltará. En lugares de delicados pastos me hará descansar; Junto a aguas de reposo me pastoreará. Confortará mi alma; Me guiará por sendas de justicia por amor de su nombre. Aunque ande en valle de sombra de muerte, No temeré mal alguno, porque tú estarás conmigo; Tu vara y tu cayado me infundirán aliento. Aderezas mesa delante de mí en presencia de mis angustiadores; Unges mi cabeza con aceite; mi copa está rebosando. Ciertamente el bien y la misericordia me seguirán todos los días de mi vida, Y en la casa de Jehová moraré por largos días. (Salmos 23)
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever. (Psalm 23)
Good afternoon dear and faithful friends. We gather for worship today in the name of mother God who cradles us close in her arms, in the name of father God who tosses us into the air and catches us with laughter, in the name of Creator God who so intricately and beautifully knit us together to reflect the light of the Son. We gather in the name of Jesus Christ who is on the side of the weak and marginalized and those who are treated without justice. We gather in the name of the Holy Spirit who flows within us to lead us to stand in solidarity with those who are suffering and in the power to resist all forms of oppression.
We gather in the name of the one from whom our help comes. We gather together to honor the lives and legacies of those who are lost in the wilderness and who were lost to the elements while trying to escape and evade the oppressive systems that have no regard for human life and agency. Our siblings were fleeing persecution, war, misery and famine, and in an attempt to fight their way to a higher standard of living have drowned in the rivers or perished in the heat of the desert.
They were persons of all ages who, aware of the risks, decided to flee because their situation in their countries of origin offered no other possibility. They wanted to live freely. Ellos querían sobrevivir. Ellos querían vivir con dignidad.
When I hear of the deaths of these sacred souls, I question everything I think and believe about our Creator. ¿De donde viene mi ayuda? “From where is my help to come?” are no longer words written on a page long ago but the cries of anguish from me and from those begging for assistance. Thomas, one of Jesus’ disciples known for his questioning, asked “How can we know the way?” ¿Podemos saber el camino? It is in moments like this that I have no answers, explanations, or understanding for myself, for the families that lost loved ones, and for the lost opportunity to live a Spirit-filled life? It is in moments like this that I face the fact that death is an everyday reality but I have a hard time facing that in my life and in the lives of those I love and have lost. I don’t want to accept that reality. No one really wants to. Today, however, will not let us escape that reality.
Today, we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Andemos en valle de sombra de muerte. Today the familiarity, poetry and beauty of this psalm may have a different tone. The valley is dark. The valley is long and deep. The valley is hot and sweltering and dehydrating. The valley is crawling with agents of institutions of oppression. We cannot deny that reality by letting platitudes and sentimentalities echo off the valley’s walls. The valley is real and the shadow is here. The psalms cry out:
Sálvame, oh Dios, Porque las aguas han entrado hasta el alma. Estoy hundido en cieno profundo, donde no puedo hacer pie; He venido a abismos de aguas, y la corriente me ha anegado. Cansado estoy de llamar; mi garganta se ha enronquecido; Han desfallecido mis ojos esperando a mi Dios. Se han aumentado más que los cabellos de mi cabeza los que me aborrecen sin causa; Se han hecho poderosos mis enemigos, los que me destruyen sin tener por qué. ¿Y he de pagar lo que no robé? Dios, tú conoces mi insensatez, Y mis pecados no te son ocultos. (Salmos 69)
Save me, O God, for the waters have come up to my neck. I sink in the miry depths, where there is no foothold. I have come into the deep waters; the floods engulf me. I am worn out calling for help; my throat is parched. My eyes fail, looking for my God. Those who hate me without reason outnumber the hairs of my head; many are my enemies without cause, those who seek to destroy me. I am forced to restore what I did not steal. You, God, know my folly; my guilt is not hidden from you. (Psalm 69)
Oh God, where are you in the wilderness? A voice cries out to you. The voices that cry out to God from the valley… the voices that cry out in the wilderness are saying
“Preparad camino a Jehová; enderezad calzada en la soledad a nuestro Dios. Todo valle sea alzado, y bájese todo monte y collado; y lo torcido se enderece, y lo áspero se allane. Y se manifestará la gloria de Jehová, y toda carne juntamente la verá; porque la boca de Jehová ha hablado.” (Isaias 40)
“Prepare the way of the Lord; Make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be exalted and every mountain and hill brought low; The crooked places shall be made straight and the rough places smooth; The glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together; for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” (Isaiah 40)
The shadow of death is our reality today. But there is a different reality to behold. Light. Glorious light that fills the darkest night and guides our path so that podemos caminar con esperanza. So that we can walk with hope.
The light does not undo what has happened nor does it magically take away our pain. The light is not sentimalities or platitudes. It is our way forward. It is our hope. Es nuestra esperanza. The light has been with us since the very beginning. It is constant and trustworthy and it never fades. The shadow of the valley cannot overcome or extinguish it. Some call that light Dios or Jesus. Others might speak of it as the Divine, the Holy, the Mystery. Others understand it as the power of the resurrection. Isaiah spoke of it as the Spirit of the Lord God bringing good news, binding up the brokenhearted, and comforting those who mourn. This light is the greater reality of our day. It is the proof in the lives led by those we have lost. This greater reality is what illuminated the aspirations and dreams of those who took a risk and it gave them hope for a greater tomorrow.
Now, I’m speaking to those who live on this side of the border. I’m speaking to those who have the privilege and now the responsibility to walk in the way of the Lord and help shine the light on the atrocities committed on the land that is not ours to patrol. Dietrich Bonhoeffer once said in response to atrocities in our history that “If I sit next to a madman as he drives a car into a group of innocent bystanders, I can’t, as a Christian, simply wait for the catastrophe, then comfort the wounded and bury the dead. I must try to wrestle the steering wheel out of the hands of the driver.” As Christians, individuality is not a central tenet to our faith. Our faith is centralized in the body and blood of Jesus Christ.
Porque así como el cuerpo es uno, y tiene muchos miembros, pero todos los miembros del cuerpo, siendo muchos, son un solo cuerpo, así también Cristo. Porque por un solo Espíritu fuimos todos bautizados en un cuerpo; y a todos se nos dio a beber de un mismo Espíritu. (1 Corinitios 12)
For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body and all were made to drink of one Spirit. (1 Corinthians 12)
Our bodies are temples for the Spirit and sanctuaries for the needy. As sanctuaries, we respond to the raids, the detentions, the deportations, and the criminalization of immigrants. As sanctuaries, we strategize to fight individual cases of deportation, to advocate for an end to mass detention and deportation, and to amplify the voices of immigrants. As sanctuaries, we visualize what our communities and world can be. As sanctuaries, we have the moral imperative to take prophetic action, to extend radical hospitality, and share our faith’s ancient tradition of welcome and love.
So until that day when the light pierces the shadow, our challenge, our hope, and our way forward is to put one foot in front of the other. Sometimes, it takes all we have to just take the next step but the glory and the light of the Lord is just over the mountain peak. So we must stay close and walk together.
THE SOUTHERN SEMINARIAN 