Erroneous Autonomy: A Conversation on Solidarity & Faith
Presentation: June 15, 2015
Fr. Evelio Menjivar
Pastor of Our Lady Queen of the Americas
Topic: Labor & Church Solidarity in the Immigrant Community
If I am here today it is not because I consider my self an expert in the topic of conversation. I am here not as an expert but as a witness of the power of faith and solidarity.
Therefore, my contribution to this panel discussion is focus on my personal experience as an immigrant, as a pastor of an ethnic Hispanic parish and as a priest engaged in supporting workers in their struggle for justice.
I. My first encounter with what pope Francis calls “the Church without frontiers,” occurred in 1988 in the border of Mexico and the United States. I was only 18 years old when I tried for the first time to enter into the United States. In those years, El Salvador was going through a civil war that left almost one-hundred-thousand dead and more than two million Salvadorians spelled from the country. Some left because they were persecuted for their political views, others, perhaps the big majority, left because the economic and social fabric of the nation was destroyed and had no other choice but to look for opportunities elsewhere. At young age, I realized that my fate was also that of most of my friends and classmates: to head north with the hope to make it into the United States. On my first try, I was able to travel for two thousand six hundred miles without much inconvenience.
The problem was that this is only the distance between San Salvador and Tijuana, Mexico and though, I was able to see the flag of the United States at the other side of the border, I was not yet in the Land of my Dreams. In Tijuana, the Mexican immigration police stopped me and because I was traveling without documents was sent with many other Central American migrants to “la Ocho de Tijuana” one of the worst prisons in Mexico. The prison cell we were put in was so overcrowded, that there was not even enough space to seat, neither to say to lie down. The only meal a day we were able to get was brought by Catholic missionaries from the United States. I think they were Catholics because in the lunch bag they passed, there was a burrito, a bottle of water and a rosary. The burrito, I remember very well, had a lot of onion. At home, I used to detest anions. But at the prison, the burrito filled with onion tasted like heaven to me. No wonder, when the Israelites were crossing the dessert searching for the Promised Land, they were craving for the onions and the garlic of Egypt. After three days in prison, together with other Central Americans I was put in a bus and brought all the way to the Guatemalan border. My Tijuana experience, taught me not only to like onions but above all, it was a lesson of something beautiful about the American people and of humankind in general: Those people who were visiting us in the prison and bringing us food were telling us with a concrete act of love and solidarity: “You are our neighbors,” “We are all brothers and sisters.”
My story has been the story of thousands of immigrants that have come to the American. Many have witness the spirit of solidarity of churches, communities of faith, labor unions and other organizations that have welcome them and help them to make the transition and the integration to the society much easier. Thanks to the generosity and openness of people of faith, thousands of immigrants and refugees have found legal and medical assistance; educational and work training opportunities; and a sense of family and community, and thus, they have not only better their lives and made the American Dream a reality but also are able to contribute to the well being of the society and to the prosperity of the Nation.
II. According to Pope Francis, solidarity “entails waving a fabric of fraternal relationships marked by reciprocity, forgiveness and complete self-giving.” (Pope Francis, World Day of Peace Message, 1 January 2014, 10). But we know that in the culture, the economic and political system in which we live in, most of the relationships are not driven by love and solidarity but rather by self-centeredness, political gain and the maximization of profit. In other words, solidarity doesn’t grow as grass and weed do in Washington these days. (I mean common weed.) To grow in the spirit of solidarity with workers, labor unions and church leaders requires much effort, patience, determination and… a good whisky. As an immigrant, as priest and as a man of faith, I cannot neglect the duties of waving brotherly ties between immigrants, workers and organizations that support them in their struggle for justice.
That’s why I accepted joyfully the invitation of father Clete Kiley to be part of the Priest Laborer Initiative in 2012. The project that started in Chicago, IL, with twenty-seven priests from around the United States has grown since substantially. The goal is to create a network of support for priests who, sometimes, without much training and support are thrown in the middle of difficult situations and have to speak out for the voiceless and fight against injustices alongside with workers according to the principals of Catholic social teaching.
I am very proud to be part of this century-old-tradition of Catholic Laborer Priests who have walked side by side with workers, providing spiritual, moral and pastoral support and have made the Church present right there where people are. I have noticed that just by being present and walking with those workers who might be afraid, discouraged and unsure if what they are doing is in accord with their faith, it makes a big difference. Just few months ago, I went to Freedom Plaza, here in DC, where “airlines catering workers” were conducting a rally and a Hispanic lady, who had come all the way from Orlando Florida, approached me just to say: “gracias padre por estar aqui.” “Thank you father for being here.” “It gives us courage to know that the Church supports us”.
I am always moved and very proud of my Church when I see the pictures of the priests and nuns who were walking side by side with African Americans in their struggle for justice during the Civil Rights marches. The fact that they were there, that they were standing in solidarity with the oppressed, says a lot about their faith, their love for truth and their determination to stand against injustice and evil. Today it our turn to leave the comfort of our homes, offices and rectories and stand with and advocate for workers and those who are suffering injustices.
III- As a pastor my aspiration is to make the parish a school of faith and solidarity. I am very much inspired with the words of pope Francis in his message for the World Day of Immigrants and Refugees: “The Church without frontiers, mother to all, spreads throughout the world a culture of acceptance and solidarity, in which no one is seen as useless, out of place or disposable”. I believe this message could be a very good mission statement, not only for my parish but for any parish or any community of faith that strives to put into practice the teachings of Jesus. As individuals and as society we are called, “to move away from attitudes of defensiveness and fear, indifference and marginalization towards attitudes based on a culture of encounter which is the only culture capable of building a better and more fraternal world” as pope Francis says.
My parish, Our Lady Queen of the Americas, has always being a community that builds bridges and practices solidarity especially with immigrant workers. The parish community was founded, almost fifty years ago by mostly Hispanic domestic worker, many of whom were victims of human trafficking, wage theft and exploitation. They would arrive at the parish looking for help, protection and shelter. They never forget that it was the sisters, the priest and the church was there for them that took them into their homes no wonder the parish community became like a second home and a dear family to them.
Immigrant workers still arrive at the door of our parish looking for help and support. The specific situations and circumstances might be different from that of our pioneers but their pain and the response they expect from us is the same.
We had a case, just to give an example, were two Salvadorian food service workers were terminated from their jobs without much notice. It was right before Christmas. Those people, whom they have served for years, were very sympathetic to them and wanted help them but were unable to do so directly because conflicts of interest. They got in touch with me we were able to offer some help to these workers thanks to the generosity and concern of their friends and colleagues. The parish served as a bridge of solidarity between those workers and their friends.
Our Parish is also striving to be a school of faith and solidarity by providing our parishioners with educational and hands-on opportunities to learn and to be formed by our reach and sometimes forgotten Catholic Social Teaching. Our hope is that those who participate in the “pequena comunidades de base’ in the small base communities develop a much greater awareness and understanding of social justice, poverty issues and workers rights, ignite in them a passion and a desire to get more involved in our local and larger community and foster concern and solidarity for the poor and vulnerable in the society.
Our solidarity with the poor, immigrants, and workers is rooted in our faith that all people have a common origin and share a common destiny: God. We are all brothers and sisters; we are one big family. My personal experience has taught me that solidarity that flows from faith helps us to open our hearts and minds to the needs of others and allows us to overcome indifference. In order to accomplish this goal we have to be in a constant process of conversion of mind and heart towards a culture communion and solidarity.