The community has a distinct personality. Each class has shaped the life of CDSP as an institution as much as it has shaped the individuals that make up the student body. Not everything is learned in the classroom. The professors are amazing. The faculty really cares about the seminarians and each in their own way has already made an impresion upon us. In addition to prodding our preconceived notions of how things "should" or "ought" to be in the Episcopal church, we are, in a sense, forced to look long and hard at our own beliefs, at our preferences, and at our selves.
Living in close proximity to budding church leaders and folks from all around the United States and the globe, we rub off on each other. Some times we can rub each other the wrong way. All of this comes together under what is called "formation". Mirriam -Webster defines formation as an act of giving form or shape to something taking form. We, the seminarians, are that something taking form. So everything becomes part of the learning process.
Everything we choose to do, and there is a superabundance of things to do, shapes us into something different than what we once were. Last week my head was so full of early martyrs, Hebrew vocabulary, history, legends, myths, traditions, local and national issues facing the Episcopal Church and the wider church, that even my dreams were effected.
Saturday, September 25th, some of us ventured out to the Angel Island Immigration Station for what was called the Pilgrimage To Angel Island 2010: Wispers of the Past to the Cries of Justice Today. The program was intended to help citizens remember the religious communities that served, and advocated for, the detainees of Angel Island, and how that speaks to the world today.
The simple ceremony highlighted why it is important to remember what happed on Angel Island and the profound impact issues of immigration have on people. I was moved by an elderly man that was helped to the microphone and told his story to us. Dale Ching, a former detainee, began by saying, "Welcome to my first home in America". Here is his story.
After weeks on a crowded boat, the hopeful immigrants were greeted at the docks by armed guards. Men, women, and children were immediately separated into barracks. The doors locked from the outside and opened only for meals and in the afternoon for a period of recreation. They were locked in day and night. He was held for three and a half months, but many were held for three or more years. Dale was only 16.
Laborers were sought out to help with America's push West, the Gold Rush, building railroads, and at times the very workers that were brought here to help were blamed for taking away jobs, especially when the economy went sour. Though only 10% of those who came to the Island were sent home, they lived in fear.
In July of 1937 Dale was granted permission to enter the United States. Taken on a boat to one of the many San Francisco piers, he saw his father waiting on the dock. This was the first time that he had seen his father in seven years. He never wanted to return to Angel Island. This was part of his past, but not something he talked about.
Years later his children talked him into returning to the Island. They had so many questions. In 1991 he started to volunteer at the Detention Center as a docent. He wanted to tell new generations his story. Dale wanted the public to know what happened here so they could interpret for themselves the history of the immigrants. He hopes that by telling his story it might help ensure fair treatment for all people.
We also heard the story of Deaconess Katharine Maurer who minstered to the women and children here. In her smart suit and cape she brought hope and comfort to those locked inside the cramped barracks. There were many Chinese, Mexican, Korean immigrants waiting for permission to start a new life. In the 1930's and early 1940's Jews fled from Germany, Poland, Austria and other European countries as a result persecution. In the anti-immigration atmosphere of her day, Deaconess Katherine worked hard to mitigate the hard realities faced behind the barbed wire fences of the detention center. She preached a message of love, respect and tollerance. She once said, "We look pretty much the same to God. We are all his foolish children".
Many others spoke out against the current climate of fear and hate surrounding the immigration debate. Once American daughter who's father was recently deported said that "there is no nice way of discrimination". Another person noted that hate and discrimination is not over - it has been modernized.
I don't claim to have an answer. The issues surrounding immigration are complex. It is, though, upsetting to see politicians scapegoat immigrants to get votes. Fear and hate have been used for personal gain. These people carelessly ignite fires of discrimination. I pray for the dignity of all immigrants, of all people struggling to find a better life for themselves and their family.
I'm put in mind of a quote by Woodrow T. Wilson, who said, "America lives in the heart of every man everywhere who wishes to find a region where he will be free to work out his destiny as he chooses".
One of the recent Community Eucharists on Thursday night featured a prayer attributed to Reinhold Niebuhr that guides my thinking on this and many other issues of importance.
God, grant us the serentity
to accept the things we cannot change,
the courage to change the things we can,
and the wisdome to know the difference.
Living one day at a time,
enjoying one moment at a time,
accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,
taking as Jesus did,
this sinful world as it is, not as we would have it,
trusting that you will make all things right if we surrender to your will,
that we may be reasonable happy in this life,
and supremely happy with you forever in the next. AMEN.
