For Christians, this question is frequently treated as a black-and-white simplicity. Debates ebb and flow over the teaching of Scripture, the ethics of Jesus and so forth with varying groups championing their sources of authority and claiming (with little to no doubt) that their spring of divine wisdom has granted them the knowledge of the good. Knowing this to be the case how do we proceed?
Enter the Immigration Debate. The Federation for American Immigration Reform (FAIR) estimates thirteen million illegal immigrants lived in the United States in 2007 (http://www.fairus.org/). In 2011 that number has only increased and there has been little improvement towards a helpful resolution. My interest, however, is in the discontinuity demonstrated by the Christian community. Christians, like in so many other issues, disagree on the proper way to respond to illegal immigration. Some argue the law of the land should be upheld, and that all illegal actions are, therefore, immoral or evil by necessity. Others claim self-preservation as their guiding ethic, or more specifically that the existence of cheap labor, free benefits while avoiding certain taxes, or the perceived threat of 'dangerous' foreigners are all reasons to harbor a hostile posture towards illegal immigrants. Still another camp favors a Christological reading of the situation, where we read Jesus challenging us to love even our enemies, to see the despised foreigner as actually our neighbor, and to turn our cheek even after we are struck. This is enough for many of us to throw up our hands and cry it is too complex to resolve. Maybe it is.
But wherever you fall on the politically-charged spectrum of this debate I believe there is something to be learned from St. Athanasius. Not known to many of us Westerners, St. Athanasius was no stranger to debates. In fact, he is chiefly remembered for his own fiery conflict with one of the oldest, strongest, and long lived heresies of the Christian Church: Arianism. And while reading his On the Incarnation with fifteen, first year seminary students at Duke Divinity School, I learned something I had never seen before now. We can either live our lives submitting to the fear and power of death, or we can live with our mind fixed upon the life giving power of the Gospel, a power that does not fear death because it has conquered death. For Athanasius, this truth can be encountered because of one crucial aspect of God's work in the world.
Incarnation. In the beginning God created the cosmos through His Word, and when sin came into the world through the Transgression, humanity lost its innocence and began drifting away from God and eternal goodness and towards the antithesis of good, or evil. So instead of abandoning us to death, Jesus Christ took on the bounds of human nature and flesh and conquered death by dying himself. Then in three days this same Christ rose from the dead, not suffering the power of death to contain his own divine nature, the fulness of life and being. He was the one who gave Life, and that life could not be stilled by death. Because God's Son knew human flesh, human flesh can know God again. And to know God is to know Christ. To know Christ is to know his life, his words, and his actions. All of a sudden Christ's life is extremely important, not just an afterthought to atonement.
And this is why all of this matters for ethics, and in our case, immigration. We are a society absolutely gripped by fear. We are scared or suspicious of everyone and everything. Democrats, Republicans, Muslims, the poor, the rich, politicians, Wall Street, and, of course, immigrants. And we believe this fear gives life. If we fear the right communities or people groups then we can have the proper response to their threat upon our well-being. So, shortly after fear follows hate. And hate can only lead to death.
But then there is Jesus. The ethics of Christ is not one that leads to suburban happiness, wealth, or plenty. But it leads to Life, and this Life has no room for fear, or suspicion, or hate. It is not concerned with death; it is an ethic without death. It loves and only loves. It gives and sacrifices its own self, offering itself up not just for the beloved but also for the enemy. This Love intercedes for the enemy, forgiving the enemy even as the latter murders the former. Our Lord suffered death on a cross, loving his accusers, and forgiving his murderers. And what was their excuse? They were suspicious. They were afraid. So they hated him. And then they killed him.
How then will we choose to live? Can we love enough to have an ethics without death?
[This is on my heart because of the unpopular attention my home state of Alabama has garnered in recent months due to the 'most hostile anti-immigrant law to date.' This article and many of its attached comments offer a good (albeit biased) read on the situation:
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/04/opinion/alabamas-shame.html?partner=rssnyt&emc=rss ]
Dude, you're so right to point out the fear of death. Augustine talks about how timor mortis is what drove the Roman Empire to do all kinds of crazy things - from conquering other countries to wasting their lives away at the theater. But fear of death is hard to conquer (as hard as the wood of the cross, I think) - both as a society and in our own lives.
ReplyDelete