Not that kind of Christian . . .

 March 19th, I participated MIRA’s Immigrant’s Day. What a propound experience celebrating and standing with members of the MA immigrant community.

Before the 11am start time for MIRA’s event approximately 200 people of faith gathered at St. Paul’s Cathedral for prayer before proceeding to the state house. We shared information about the plans once we were at the State House, prayed together and made explicit the call of our faiths to speak up and act in the face of oppression and injustice.

It was an encouraging hour we spent in community before we made our way en masse, singing and talking together, up the hill. For once long lines were a good sign! Many others were there, joining in the movement and ready to advocate and celebrate. We spread out to the two entrances and waited for our turn to go through the metal detectors.

While waiting in line, someone was standing just behind my friend and I and in front of a large group who had come with us from St. Paul’s. They displayed visible discomfort, with signs of impatience and frequent sighs. Eventually, they inquired about our group's purpose. Upon explanation, their demeanor shifted, and they seemed relieved. They explained that they had noted our singing and signs which indicated we were Christians. Based on their initial discomfort and subsequent relief, it was clear that they had felt uneasy in our presence.

It is so deeply tragic that this person, upon identifying us as Christians, felt fear and anxiety. It is also tragic that this was something that was perfectly reasonable. This individual’s identity was something that many who share our faith have publicly attacked and their rights were something those same people worked to curtail or eliminate.

We could only affirm their instincts, reassure them we understood, but also that we were “not that kind of Christian – you are safe with us.” We used different words and the conversation held some nuance but that is what it came down to.

            What we tried to convey was not simply that they were safe in that moment, but that their well-being, their thriving, their rights, their security were safe with us. We did not intend to threaten them, to rail against them or advocate for harm to come to them. We wanted to be a people who stood for them and with them, not against them. But how can you get to these kinds of assurances and explanations of who Jesus has called his people to be when our brief interaction had to be spent allaying valid and tangible fears and explaining the basic lack of danger we posed.

            Surrounded by other people of faith, praying and preparing for this action was a source of tremendous encouragement to me in the midst of these hard times. But the interaction with this stranger was an important and sobering reminder of work that remains to be done – continuing to show up and speak up with for marginalized communities, especially those who are rightly skeptical or even fearful of those who claim to follow Jesus.

            I want to be someone that makes others, that makes everyone, feel safe, loved and valued. And I hope that I can be a way others experience the powerful and unconditional love of Jesus.