Hispanic Ministries Reborn |
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by David Maldonado |
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New World Outlook, September/October 2007
I grew up in Seguin, Texas, a product of the pre-civil-rights era and of The United Methodist Church. My church and the historical social context shaped my life, community, and world. During this era, segregation and discrimination were open and acceptable practices for the white majority population. We experienced discrimination because of our names, skin color, and accents. In this peculiar social circumstance we were deemed unacceptable because of who we were. We heard two overwhelming messages from the white majority: "You do not belong," and "It is not yours." Separate schools, segregated neighborhoods, separated public facilities, and limited employment options were part of our world. This historical context shaped my life and the lives of Latinos and the people of color. Our Latino culture, Spanish language, and religion were classified as inferior. We were treated as foreigners in our own land. Speaking Spanish was not permissible. Our culture, it seemed, was hazardous to our health and well-being. We were encouraged not to pass it on. We were to eradicate it, change it, in order to assimilate. But becoming a full member of the general society was not part of the offer. Thus, all the consequential characteristics and social profiles of the marginalized applied to us. Our parents learned which side of the street to walk on. We could not depend on the political leaders or law enforcement for protection or support. We depended on each other. We learned to do with what little we had as individuals, families, and communities. Welcoming Space When we were dispossessed, the church offered us a sense of ownership, something central to our lives. "Es mi iglesia," my grandmother said with a sense of pride. "It is my church." When society told us we did not belong, the church said: "You belong." Belonging was important to those who were outcast in society. My grandmother would also often say "Soy de esa iglesia," "I belong to that church." When society said, "You are ugly because of your brown skin," the church taught us that we were created in the image of God, that we were children of God! At church, we learned to read the Bible, to pray and worship in Spanish. I grew up thinking God was a Spanish-speaker. I have learned that God is multicultural and multilingual! Our Hispanic Methodist church celebrated and affirmed who we were, and we were free to be the way God created us. We saw so many men in that church who worked with their hands in backbreaking jobs. Our mothers cleaned houses, took in laundry, cared for others. But come Sunday morning, there were ties, coats, high heels. Dora Martínez, Bishop Joel Martínez' mother, wore beautiful hats. I knew her as a dignified, beautiful person. When I attended Perkins School of Theology, eventually other students found out I was Mexican American. A good friend, trying to connect with me, said, "My father has Mexican hands." I found that statement puzzling, humorous, and yet, sad. He was talking about hired farm hands. Such statements suggest how we were defined and treated. We were reduced to a tool of labor. Where was the shared peoplehood in God? We were merely hands out there, but we were made whole in the church. Our small Methodist Church in Seguin was indeed a sanctuary for the poor and marginalized through the civil rights era. The literal translation of sobrevivir ("to survive," in Spanish) in English is "to overcome." The church was a powerful force in overcoming a brutal and cruel social reality. Criminalization as Social Tool Latino children are criminalized because of the undocumented status of their parents. When you criminalize a whole community, they become public enemies by definition. Criminalized immigrants are denied the legal rights of citizens. The perception is that they steal our jobs, take advantage of our hospitals and schools, and cost us money. The practice of criminalization divides people. Criminals cannot be trusted and should be punished. They should go back where they came from. Those who cross the border do so at great risk. They seek work so they can feed their families. They want to live in harmony with their communities. They are not criminals. They seek work at whatever risk, even under abusive conditions. But there are those who seek political gain and divide us racially and ethnically by means of the criminalization of the poor ethnic immigrant. Jesus Heals the Paralytic Jesus had returned home and crowds of people gathered around him as soon as they learned that he was home. Jesus was a powerful preacher and spellbinding teacher. He had performed miracles and his reputation had spread. People wanted to see and hear him. They wanted to get close to him, touch him—hoping maybe they too would be healed. People in the village said, "if you want to get up close to Jesus, you better hurry." Maybe they knocked some people down rushing to get there. I don't blame them, since everyone wants to get close to Jesus and receive the benefits of God's grace. However, the faster you go, the narrower your vision becomes. They were thinking only of themselves and their own situations. In their midst was a paralyzed man. He was defined as useless, making no contribution to society—a drain on the system. Sometimes we wish such people were not here. We are so used to having them here, we prefer to ignore them. We don't want to recognize their humanity. We have defined them out of our lives and our systems. They do not really belong! The paralyzed man was probably born in that village. Maybe he had friends and family. Somebody knew who he was. He could see his neighbors and even his friends hurry by. He too had heard that Jesus was in town, but he couldn't get up. He didn't have the physical resource. Stuck in his marginality, he dared to say, "Maybe someone will stop and take me along." But others were busy with their own priorities. Someone stopped to help this paralytic. The man who stopped did not create a committee to come and study this problem. He immediately engaged in trying to get this man to Jesus. He realized he couldn't do it by himself, but no one would stop to help him. Many times, when you identify with the poor and marginalized, you become poor and marginalized as well. When you stand with the invisible, you become invisible. This healthy, concerned individual couldn't do it by himself. Somehow, he found three other people willing to bring the paralyzed man to Christ. Can you imagine four men carrying this man to the house? They believed that if they could only bring him, he would be healed. They gave up their own priorities, desires, and wants. They transferred those to the paralyzed man. But for this man to enter the house, someone else would have to give up his or her place. Good and faithful people got there early. They had earned their place because they had worked hard, running, and had superior physical abilities. We don't like people to get ahead of us, especially when they don't deserve it! The attitude of "We got here first" and "we deserve it" are not new. No one would step aside to make room for the paralyzed man. The house was packed. The door and windows were stuffed with unmovable people. So the four men got on the roof of the house. They climbed onto someone's private property and proceeded to dig a hole through the roof! Was that legal? It's called breaking and entering. But to the five involved, that was not important. They were not doing the legal thing; they were doing the humane thing, the decent and right thing. Inside the house, people must have looked up and seen the dust. When Jesus looked up, he saw four desperate faces looking down, determined to help the needy. Jesus saw something in those faces. He was moved. He did not see people seeking their own good or their own priorities. He saw people loving their neighbor. Jesus healed the paralyzed man. Just imagine how other people resented the way he entered. "When they come into our space, it changes it. If you let one paralyzed man in, you will see a bunch of them follow." Jesus offered forgiveness. Evangelism was not enough. The man needed evangelization, the spirit of God entering his life, but he also needed food and health care. Saving a soul was not enough—Jesus healed him. That's what we are about: breaking down barriers, tearing down roofs. At times we cannot do what the world wants us to do or be what the world says we should be. We must be what God wants us to be. Hispanic Ministries Reborn Today the church is engaged in caring and prophetic ministries among immigrants. United Methodists cannot ignore the immigrant. From California to Virginia, United Methodists are reaching out and taking courageous positions in the context of anti-immigration. How the United Methodist Church and this nation respond to the vulnerable among its midst will be our legacy and our witness. May we stand with the vulnerable; may we stand with the God of grace who transforms all of us. The Rev. Dr. David Maldonado, Jr., an ordained elder of the Rio Grande Conference, attended Lydia Patterson Institute as a child and has taught on the faculties of Perkins and Iliff schools of theology and served as President of Iliff School of Theology from 2000 to 2004. Currently, he is the director of the Center for the Study of Latino/a Christianity and Religions at Perkins School of Theology, Southern Methodist University in Dallas, Texas.
Date posted: Sep 01, 2007 |
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The Mission Magazine of the United Methodist Church
