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Winter Reporter 2007
(250k. Click here to access color, illustrated version in PDF file format)

Old South Church
Boston MA 02116
http://www.oldsouth.org

What's inside? (Text only version)


You Are Here!

by Rev. John White,
First Congregational Church UCC,
Dudley, Massachusetts


On June 9th and l0th I had the pleasure of traveling to Mt. Holyoke College with Ken and Karen Gillon, our Massachusetts Conference delegates, for the annual meeting of The Massachusetts Conference of The United Church of Christ. It is always a great pleasure and a stress reliever for me, when I can get a ride with someone. Although I have gotten better at it through the years, my physical sense of direction has never been good. Mt. Holyoke itself is a beautiful collection of ornate historic brick buildings located on sprawling and well-kept grounds.

On Friday evening as Karen and I were standing in the lobby of our Residence Hall, knowing that I had been to Mt. Holyoke several times, she asked me if I knew my way to a particular building. She was about to learn about my generally poor sense of direction. I said “Well, uh, let me see... ummm... mmm... it’s kind of that way.”

Having heard this ridiculously inadequate answer, a young man in a wheelchair who had overheard our conversation, began speaking to me. Sadly, I couldn’t at first understand what he was saying. I don’t know what his physical difficulty is, but it affects his speech. (I am particularly sensitive to persons who struggle with speech. Several years ago I also suffered from a severe stammer and know the deep emotional conflict persons in this situation can experience. Your mind is sharp, yet your speaking doesn’t reflect that to those who don’t understand. I often felt like an outsider . . . as it was so difficult to let what was inside, my true self, show itself on the outside.)

After several attempts at listening (if only we listened more deeply to one another, all the time) I grew to understand this man well. His name is David Clark and he was serving as a delegate from Old South Church in Boston where our former Conference Minister and President Rev. Nancy Taylor is now the Senior Minister. David heard my struggle as I was trying to give directions to Karen.

He asked me, with great intent and deliberateness . . . trying to help me, “Where are you now?’

“Where am I now?’ I asked.

“Yes,” said David. “Where are you now?”

“I am here.” I said. .

“Here’s the good news!” said David with a broad smile. “You are never lost when you know where you are now. You know where you are now. You are here!”

I thought about that for a moment and then said, “Hey, that’s a really deep thought. I’d never thought about that in that way. Thank you. What’s your name? My name is John.”

“Hi John. My name is David. I don’t know about being deep. I thought I was just being a pain in the *#@!” And David laughed, loud and hard. I did too.

Whenever I saw David throughout that weekend, rolling by, he would shout out at me, “Hey John! Where are you?! You are here!” He’d smile, with his mouth and his eyes. I had made a friend and was very glad for it.

David may not know it, but that encounter meant a great deal to me. This has been a deeply emotional year. There have been, and continue to be, many challenging waters for us to wade through. For example, several dear friends have died. Most of our roads of challenge are also roads of opportunity though. Our tower needs repairing, to the tune of lots of dollars, and yet, together we will accomplish that task, preserving this church on a hill for the generations to come. On October 14th we will have our Long Range Planning Day. Many opinions will be expressed, and yet, together we will form a unified vision. On November 12th, assuming the approval of Church Council, we will have a vote to become an Open and Affirming church. This conversation has been a conversation of years, and yet, together we now have the opportunity to reach out to others who, like myself, once felt like outsiders. Now, they too, in this community, will be able to let what is on the inside, their true self, out, so that all of us may benefit as our family continues to grow in love and understanding,

Thank you to David, from Old South Church, for reminding me and us of where we are, the journey we have traveled together, and the road we are being called to follow, just up ahead. It is not important that we know all the directions to where we are going. The important thing is knowing, as David shared so well,

“You are never lost when you know where you are now. Where are you now? You are here.”

How marvelous to be here, and to be fully welcomed, with you. +

 


LIVING COVENANTS!

Part IV. Enduring Practices of Association

and Christian Presence in our

Metropolitan Boston Association (MBA) - UCC

by Elizabeth Rice-Smith

 

MBA OUTINGS — GOD IS STILL SPEAKING!

So much of what happens in the MBA happens in the context of meetings of the MBA Council, Nominating Committee, Committee on the Ministry, and Committee on Ministerial Standing. But that is not the whole story, not by a long shot.  Not all of what happens in the MBA is committee work!

There are many occasions for members of UCC congregations in the MBA to become more aware and involved in what is going on in our wider church. Outings to MBA events, for example. Ecclesiastical councils, Spring and Fall MBA meetings, and special celebrations amongst other occasions, all offer pathways for engaging in our Covenant through Association.

Opportunities to collaborate with others from UCC congregations — MBA and beyond — via commissions, committees, and programs addressing justice and church vitality are regularly sponsored by the United Church of Christ (UCC) Metropolitan Boston Association (MBA), by the Massachusetts Conference (MACUCC), and by the UCC National Offices. For example, from our OSC Membership and Stewardship Committees, respectively, Bill and Marilyn Adams want to tell us about their experience at an event held in the MBA last November, sponsored by the MACUCC Evangelism & Church Vitality Commission. Over many years, Ron Smith, Co-Chair of our OSC Membership Committee and a member of this MACUCC Commission on Evangelism and Church Vitality, has extended countless warmhearted invitations to OSCers to attend events sponsored by this Commission, including “God is Still Speaking” trainings. And many OSCers have responded! We are grateful to Ron for his leadership and longstanding efforts.

The particular event which Bill and Marilyn want us to know about, “God is Still Speaking 301,” was held at Wollaston, MA First Congregational: (WollyCong). It was very well attended by people from all over the state. The primary speaker, the Rev. Dr. Richard Peace (a UCC minister who is a member of a UCC congregation in Wenham, MA and also a faculty member at Fuller Seminary in California) worked with participants using resources from his forthcoming book, “Holy Conversations.”  Engaging attendees in small group discussions, participants were invited to talk together, addressing the themes of

“Talking About...Jesus: Telling the Story of Jesus” and “Stories of the Presence of God: God in Daily Life.” Dr. Peace is inviting UCC congregations to make use of his resources in their congregations and to provide him with feedback before his book is published.

In speaking about his experience at this event, Bill Adams gives a chuckle and notes, “I love to go to these events! It is wonderful to meet up with people from other UCC congregations, to get out of our comfort zone and talk with each other. At this event, when we all broke up into smaller teams to talk, I was amazed. It was pretty easy for each of us to tell a story about when we really felt or knew the “presence of God” in our daily lives, about a time when we really discovered that God would enter our lives and advocate for us.  But when we were asked to speak about Jesus, to speak about a particular story or experience of Jesus, in our lives, it was much harder. And all of us there were Christians. Just very interesting.”

Bill continues, saying,  “I realized though, after talking together with other participants at this MBA “God is Still Speaking” event, that at the end of the day, I knew more about what was important to them, in some ways, than I know about so many people I see day-to-day! Talking about our experiences of God, of Jesus, well, it is quite something to have that opportunity. Not easy, though. It may be that we need more practice speaking together about what Jesus means to us.”

Bill also speaks about the fun of meeting some people associated with the UCC in different settings, over time, and gaining a sense of growing familiarity and affinity with them: “A couple years ago, I went to the Fall Meeting of the MBA at the Wellesley Hills Congregational Church. The worship service was led by Matthew and Liz Boulton, and they were great! Then Matt presented for us at Old South during our Lenten Series, and it was their ‘Sweet the Sound’ group which offered the concert here at OSC this spring!” To the point, Bill notes, “I enjoy the vibrance of the associations we have, people younger and older, the intergenerational piece of all of this, in the wider church. And I am not in charge. I can turn it over, every day. Taking the risk to talk it over, from the basis of my faith, that’s what happens at so many of these events. It is quite something.”

In speaking with Marilyn Adams, she was clear as a bell, ringing out her sense that, “People at the WollyCong meeting really responded to Dr. Peace’s invitations to us. They were so willing to tell their stories about God and Jesus, some more and some less inhibited, but everyone talking about matters they hadn’t spoken about before, or hadn’t spoken about with too many other people. I came away feeling rejuvenated and energized, with a deeper faith. It is quite something to open up our minds with like-minded people, people from other congregations whose goals are similar to ours at OSC, to enhance our life at church and find ways to extend our welcome to others.” Marilyn notes for us, “Bill and I have been involved in membership and stewardship efforts at other congregations, so in some ways, this is not new to us. But in some ways it is very new!  I really like the “God is Still Speaking” campaign, and though some people may find it controversial, I like it because it shakes us up a bit, making a very good point! People get nervous speaking about church in the everyday language used in this “God is Still Speaking” campaign, and none of us like to think of ourselves as excluding anyone. But for people who aren’t involved in churches, this approach really seems to ring true.”

Marilyn also notes, “Of course, I wouldn’t talk about God and Jesus the way we did at the November event everywhere I go, but I do have a deep belief. When I was growing up, we sang “Jesus Loves Me, This I Know” every Sunday at Sunday School, and I believed it. I still do. And I really enjoy those occasions at OSC when we have opportunities to speak together about our faith, especially over a meal as we did during part of the Annual New Members Sunday Luncheon on June 11th. I look forward to more of those opportunities to talk together with OSCers.”

And this fall, there has been another opportunity for a group from OSC to meet with people from other congregations in Massachusetts and Rev. Peace to share in “holy conversations,” speaking together about God and Jesus in our lives, and building the vitality of our congregations.

CONCLUSION

There is more to tell about current leadership and service of OSCers involved in the Massachusetts Conference as well as national and global efforts of the UCC. And there is more to tell about what OSCers have already contributed and accomplished in years past. Our Senior Minister Nancy Taylor. Ron Smith. Yvonne Delk. John Weingarten. Larry Bowers. Patricia Hazeltine. Elizabeth England. Tom Boates.  Jim Crawford. And so many others.  Ask them to tell you about it all.

But now, as we reflect on the stories of the inspiring work and participation in the Metropolitan Boston Association by those who share in church membership with us and beyond us at OSC, it behooves us to search deeply and remember some of the . . . well, more “hidden” people who were inspired by the Spirit.  People who carried the cost and joy of discipleship and who inspire us. Some of those more “hidden” people who sacrificed greatly to make pathways for faith in their era, pathways which continue to lead faith forward. People through whom God was speaking many years past, long before the Reformation, during the Reformation, and since. People whose lives and courage we remember, giving thanks for all that they have contributed toward establishing God’s path of knowledge, justice, and life. For one example, let me tell you about John Wycliffe. 

In England, between 1380 and 1384 (long before Luther and Calvin), John Wycliffe instituted an “underground” Bible study movement. The mid-late fourteenth century was a torturous time in Europe and Wycliffe’s Bible study movement was a movement “underground” in nature because, at that time, the Roman Catholic Church forbade Bible study except as conducted in Latin and by priests. People had a lot to deal with during that era. Endless Wars. Plague. Feudalism. Illiteracy. Starvation. Death. They really wanted to be able to read and think and talk together about what it all meant. They wanted to be able to read the Word of God, to try to discern God’s purpose in all that occurred. John Wycliffe, a professor at Oxford and a priest, trained a team of lay people to be Bible teachers and to translate the Latin Bible to English.

In that era, it was the Latin Bible and not the Greek sources which were translated because almost no one in England knew Greek at that time and further, Greek manuscripts were not available there. These were years long before the invention of printing. And long before we generally think of as the time of Reformation of the Church. These handcopied documents were circulated, intended for use in public gatherings at which the general public could listen to the Word in a language they understood. Mostly, the readings offered were lessons from the Gospels, readings which were then interpreted by the teachers whom Wycliffe had trained. This “underground” movement explicitly promoted a view of the authority of Scripture before the authority of the bishops of the Church. This was a very dangerous view in those times. Wycliffe, who is sometimes referred to as “the morning star of the Reformation,” was also interested in teaching and promoting learning about holiness and simplicity more than emphasizing church doctrines. That was also a very dangerous emphasis.

Unlawful, all of it, and dangerous for them to do so. So we are not surprised that the handwritten copies of Scripture were confiscated by religious/state authorities and destroyed. The Wycliffe “underground” movement was suppressed. There is more to the story, but enough for now. But every time we participate in Bible study or hold one of our OSC pew Bibles, every time we sing from our UCC New Century Hymnal, and every time we support public education, celebrate theological education, and affirm Christian Education at OSC in Boston, we enliven legacies of access, literacy, inclusivity, curiosity, justice, and diversity in our faith. And just think:  copies of sermons in the narthex, prayer folders in the sanctuary, audio cassettes and CDs, notes and cards — handwritten or digital — sent to each other with caring and hope, during times of trial and celebration, websites, sermons by iPod and Internet streaming. My oh my! Who could have ever anticipated the extraordinary range of resources by which we are able to express, disseminate, and thereby share the Word and its power in our Association together — at OSC and throughout the MBA!?

Day in, day out, so many enduring practices of Association, affinity, as Christians in the MBA - UCC are enlivened by those amongst us and beyond us. With dignity. Simplicity. Passion. Persistence. Humor. Justice. Faith. Guided by the power of the still speaking God . . .

The Rev. Dr. Liz Rice-Smith is a UCC minister who was ordained in 1974 at The Church of the Covenant, UPCUSA/UCC and has over the past three and a half decades been engaged in urban ministries in varied settings. From 1975 - 1985 she served at Harvard Divinity School as UCC Polity Instructor and Counselor to UCC students in the Department of Ministerial Studies.  Currently, she is writing ecclesiastical and cultural history,  "Between the Great Dying and the Great Awakening: 1550 - 1750 in the Atlantic Northeast." At Old South Church, she serves as Co-Chair of the Membership Committee and is a member of the Congregational Care and Support Committee, both of which are committees  of the Board of Ministers and Deacons.  She joined Old South Church in June 2002. +

 


Love Works:

Volunteering at the West Virginia Work Camp

by Ginny Nolan

 

For the past two summers I have traveled to Lincoln-Cabell County, West Virginia to do what I can to help improve the living conditions of the residents of the impoverished region. This area of West Virginia has been struggling since the control and then departure of the coal mining industry. Their departure left a depressed economy and high unemployment. I traveled there with the West Virginia Work Camp that is based in Natick, the town where I am from. The Work Camp mainly gets its participants from the Natick First Congregational Church and the Eliot Church, but anyone is able to take part in this project.

We go for one week in the beginning of June. This means that I have to reschedule all of my exams since my high school is not out by then, but this is only a minor inconvenience that I am glad to deal with in order to participate in such a meaningful and fun experience. The mission of the Natick contingent of the West Virginia Work Camp is to improve the living conditions of the people we serve by repairing their homes to make them warm, safe and dry. The group tries to use its gifts unselfishly, allowing God to work in and through them to achieve our mission. We drive down in vans after strategically fitting all of our luggage underneath the seats. Usually we can take three vans with eight to ten people in each.  The drive down takes two days with a stop in Maryland for the night, and on the way back we drive straight back in one day.

Once we arrive in West Virginia we meet up with groups from all over the country. There are other groups from Massachusetts, but I have also worked with people from Florida, Ohio, and Georgia. The groups are then split into about 30 work crews who repair homes of the underprivileged families of the Appalachian region.

 Each day of the week, after a quick breakfast of eggs and southern biscuits with gravy, we head out to the work site with our crew. The first year I went I repaired a kitchen floor for an elderly family. The beams that had been supporting the floor had all rotted out and the floor was sagging a quite a bit. If it had been left much longer it surely would have collapsed. We also replaced their toilet and bathtub. The next year I worked on the home of a family with two teenage boys. We insulated and drywalled two rooms and fixed a broken window. We get a quick break for a brown bag lunch, but then it’s back to work. During both trips I talked with the families and learned about the culture of the region. I got exposure to a lifestyle different than mine, which I found the most valuable part of the trip. I thought that I would be the only one giving something to someone else, but I soon found that the families had a lot to offer me as well.

Every night after a cafeteria style dinner, the work camp holds a worship service. We sing songs and each night a different group from a different church runs the service. Thus, the Florida group goes one night, and the Natick group goes the next night, and the Ohio group goes the next night and so on. Each member of each group gets a chance to play some role in the service. Either they say a prayer or read a verse from the Bible or have a role in a skit that is performed. This way everyone is able to get involved and share their gifts. Then the group breaks off into different small groups to discuss the events of the day and problems that might have occurred, or discuss the service. This really gives you a chance to reflect on your experience and also meet even more new people. 

The participants prepare for the trip all year long financially, physically and spiritually. We have to learn basic construction and safety rules and also hold many fundraising events to prepare for the trip. Around Thanksgiving and Christmas we bake pies to be sold; we have coffee houses year round and sell baked goods; and on Marathon Day, we capitalize on the First Congregational Church’s location on the marathon route and sell hot dogs, popcorn, sandwiches and soda. All of these proceeds go to lower the cost for the individual participants, but $425 is still required to make the trip. For the past two years Old South has supported my mission by awarding me $200 to defer this cost.

Going to West Virginia has been an extremely rewarding experience for me. The interaction of working with and helping others gives important insight into how just a little bit of your time and effort can really go a long way and make a difference in people’s lives. I look forward to going back for many years to come. +

Ginny Nolan is a junior at Weston High School.  She is a member of Old South and has been attending the Old South Youth Group for the past three years.  It has been an important part of her life that she looks forward to every Sunday.  The Cabell-Lincoln Workcamp has been working in various counties of West Virginia since 1966. It employs a relational work camp concept and during these years approximately 1,575 homes and hundreds of thousands of labor hours have been involved. Churches and individuals have donated more than $445,000 to purchase material for these needed home repairs. For more information, see <http://www.cabell-lincoln-workcamp.org>.

 


Immigration:

Impressions From Both Sides

by Dr. Janet Eldred

as preached at

St. Saviourgate Unitarian Chapel

York, England

Sunday, November 26, 2006

 

Let me begin with a disclaimer. This address contains the thoughts and experiences of one individual: me, Janet Eldred. Your own thoughts and experiences will differ. What I’m hoping to do with this address—and indeed the entire service this morning—is work out, just a bit, what the large, complex, messy topic of immigration means to me. And, what response it requires of me.

 

The address is in three parts. Part One is from the viewpoint of a native-born American considering immigrants settling in the US. Part Two is the viewpoint of a recent immigrant into the United Kingdom. Part Three considers how I, how we, might respond to all of the rhetoric surrounding what is an increasingly divisive topic.

 

I: One American’s view of immigration

 

So…to begin at the beginning.

 

I grew up in Buffalo, a large city at the western end of New York State, 450 miles from New York City. Buffalo is at the eastern tip of Lake Erie, right where the Niagara River begins its flow to Niagara Falls and Lake Ontario beyond. This situation also makes the city a border-crossing point between Canada and the United States.

 

During my formative years there, my impression of immigration was that it was the force that had brought my friends’ parents and grandparents to America from Italy, Ireland, and Poland. (My own ancestors had come to the North American continent so many generations before that I didn’t see them as immigrants or myself as the child of immigrants.) In school, we learned about the Statue of Liberty and its famous poem (“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free”) and how immigration was what made the population of the country a “melting pot” of different nationalities, all blended into one result called “Americans.”

Everyone I knew was used to crossing into Canada for shopping and entertainment as easily as driving across town—it was that close and that simple. And we were very used to seeing Ontario licence plates on local roads, as Canadians did the same. There were citizens of both countries who emigrated to the other, and neither country saw this as a threat, either racially, culturally, or economically. There were some Indian reservations nearby, but they were generally seen only as a source of cheap gas, cigarettes and beer for the grown-ups—nothing to do with us. We certainly didn’t view ourselves as immigrants in their country.

Some immigrants were glamorous and welcomed with excitement and open arms. These were the star athletes and ballet dancers and writers who defected to the west from behind the Iron Curtain.

But the only immigrants I knew personally were a British family that lived next door to mine when I was very small, a Pakistani family that joined our church when I was about 10 years old, and a Yugoslavian family whose two sons attended my high school.

Later, as a teenager, I learned that each successive group of immigrants ino the US had been viewed with suspicion by the previous, now established, groups. But, in general, there was still enough room & prosperity in the US for all comers.

Finally, as an adult living in Boston, Massachusetts, I became more aware of the complexities of immigration. These took three forms that I distinctly recall: a raised consciousness of Native American (Indian) culture and how it was effected by 17th and 18th century European immigrants; newer immigrant groups in Boston, such as the Vietnamese, whose arrival challenged the well-established Irish and Italian communities; and news of vigilante attacks on Mexicans at the country’s southern border. These Mexicans were casually referred to as “illegals,” short for “illegal aliens”—as though that somehow made the attacks acceptable.

Last Thursday was Thanksgiving Day in the US. It is worth pondering these words from the late US comedian Pat Paulsen: “All the problems we face in the United States today can be traced to an unenlightened immigration policy on the part of the American Indian.” As Paulsen suggests, tongue firmly in cheek, if those Indians at Plymouth had just let the Pilgrims starve to death, then perhaps everything would have been different.

Vietnamese immigrants not only challenged the still open-wound of feelings about the Vietnam war, but they were also, culturally, very different from the white western European immigrants before them. And, as their arrival in large numbers coincided with an economic recession, the fear of job losses raised its head.

Although not an immediate threat to the livelihoods of New England workers, the news of large numbers of Mexicans illegally crossing the border to obtain work in what now seemed a shrinking US caused people across the country to revisit the myth of an American melting pot of wide-open spaces. Did we really want all comers? Or any at all?

Perhaps the answer would come when the shoe was on the other foot.

II: A immigrant’s take on Britain’s welcome

 

In 1996, I arrived in York as a student, with permission to stay in the UK for one year in order to complete a master’s degree at the university. This was my first taste of what has since become a 10-year experience of the vast bureaucracy that is the Home Office and the Immigration and Nationality Directorate, as well as some of the more arcane aspects of the Inland Revenue, Social Security Administration, and NHS.

I found myself viewed in several ways, depending upon the circumstances.

Many British citizens that I encountered saw me as a tourist—and they were happy for me to leave my money but would I please go home as soon as possible. Some saw me as an outsider contributing nothing to the economy while accessing services I hadn’t paid for—never mind that the fees I paid for my degree were three times that of home students! My fellow students were never sure if I was a foreigner or not. During my first week at the university, I was elected to the Board of Studies for Women’s Studies. At the same meeting where the international students had elected me as their representative, one of them looked at me and asked, “But who is our international rep?”

This ability to blend in to the wider York culture around me meant that I often overheard—and even had directed to me!—unpleasant remarks about Americans or immigrants in general. Sometimes people just didn’t see me as the latter. But was that a good thing or not?

I have always seen myself as an outsider, even while gaining insider status. For about a year after I finished my Masters degree and when I was embarking on my PhD, I had a fortnightly column in the Evening Press. This was a light-hearted series of observations about York presented by an American newcomer to the city.

One of the strongest reactions I received—and still receive today, even from close friends—is to my speech: my accent and pronunciation, my grammar, and my vocabulary. Apparently it’s okay for people to attack my use of the language because (a) we Americans are big enough to take the abuse and (b), as one Brit told me years ago, I’m not a native speaker of English! Well, I can assure you that my command of Latin and French (studied in school) is very limited, leaving English as the only language I have ever mastered, and the one I have spoken all my life. Yes, Americanisms are proper English, whether spoken on US or UK soil.

More unpleasantly, I’ve been verbally abused for the actions—and inactions—of the US government, and it’s been implied that I should go home to the rich USA and leave what little offerings there are here to the native-born. But my arrival at Newark airport last month would imply that that avenue is no longer so assured. The passport control officer greeted me with, “So, you live in the UK. What are you doing here then? And when are you going back?”

Becoming a British citizen, a process I completed this past summer, has been an interesting journey. The ways and means by which someone can immigrate into Britain and, perhaps later on, become a citizen, seem almost arbitrary. It’s fascinating to me that once John and I married (John is a native of York), the tone of the letters I received from the Home Office started to change, from borderline hostility to cautiously welcoming, to, by the time I became a citizen in August, joyously enthusiastic!

Those closest to me—my friends and colleagues and fellow church members—have all been openly welcoming. But I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that somewhere among them lurked one or two persons who feel I shouldn’t have been allowed to stay here, shouldn’t be taking a job that a native Brit could have, and certainly shouldn’t have been granted citizenship.

And, ten years on in York and the UK, I know that I may be a naturalized citizen of Britain, but in 2011 I will not be able to put “English” (or “Welsh” or “Scottish”) on the census return. Thus, I will continue to see myself as a bit of an outsider and my loyalties will be to both my new fellow countrymen and women and other immigrants.

III: Immigration as a hot topic
 

Immigration is an individual story for each person, as I’ve just been recounting. But, it’s also a social and political issue on a collective scale.

Recent expansion of the European Union, coinciding with the loss of many jobs to overseas workers has resulted in a rash of fear-mongering on a scale that is itself frightening. As we read articles and letters in the national and local press, emotions are raised and reason sometimes goes out the window.

The terms refugee, asylum seeker, and immigrant are tossed around as though they were interchangeable and all somehow illegal, when they actually mean different things and all have legal status. Yes, there are persons in this country not here legally but most immigrants are legal.

Many people believe Britain cannot cope with the number of immigrants coming into the country and call for tighter controls. Headlines earlier this month revealed that 1,500 migrants arrive in the UK daily. After accounting for the 1,000 persons who leave daily, that means a net gain of 500 persons per day arriving as immigrants.

And, this is not to deny that there are serious problems to be resolved. In September, The Big Issue reported that “hundreds of migrants from Central and Eastern Europe have been forced to sleep rough in British cities because they can’t find homes or jobs”. Many cities are finding their ability to provide basic services stretched far beyond what they can handle.

But the arguments go beyond how to manage practical issues. Some Britons also feel immigration is causing Britain to lose its cultural identify. A group of socially conservative Tory MPs calling themselves the Cornerstone Group, blames the numbers of immigrants for problems ranging form soaring house prices to water shortages, road congestion, and family breakdown. One correspondent to the York Press demands to know when Parliament is going to say enough is enough and cease all immigration now. Even Jimmy Young [columnist and former BBC radio personality] writes that Britain is “on the brink of an invasion from two countries with dubious reputations—Bulgaria and Romania.”

It is fear of change, of loss of identity, of having distinctive cultural and political features of British life changed by those that immigrants bring with them that seems to be the most deep-seated fear of all. It’s bad enough when it’s American words and attitudes that are imported; when it’s religious and cultural ideals from non-white or non-western cultures, how much worse is that?

Just recently, Channel 4 ran a program entitled, “100% English.” Eight people—all born in England, all white, and all convinced that they were 100% English—were interviewed about what it means to be English, and then their DNA was examined to see what their backgrounds truly were. The DNA was grouped into four ancient population groups—European, East Asian, Sub-Saharan African, and Native American—as well as a further European breakdown. Interestingly, when presented with the test results, almost all of the eight interviewees were much less English then they thought and most of them found their views of foreigners needed some revising.

So, what do we do?

The Institute for Public Policy Research tells us, “The challenge for policymakers will be to make the most of increased mobility, not pander to reactionary opinion by trying to curb flows”. Perhaps easier said than done. And you and I are not policymakers.

Although I try to remain calm and see my way toward what is morally as well as practically right, I find myself struggling not to turn into a Pat Buchanan (or insert the name of the reactionary of your choice). Buchanan has a new book out entitled, State of Emergency: The Third World Invasion and Conquest of America. What he says about America is similar to what we hear being said about Britain. In 1960, he asserts,

We were one nation and one people. That America is dead and gone. The deconstruction of America — along the lines of culture and values, language and faith, allegiance and loyalty—has begun. By 2050, Americans of European descent will be a minority in the United States.

But is that truly a problem, other than for Buchanan and those who think like him? I wonder.

And, I recognize that the situation is rather different here in the UK, and I would not begin to propose what legislation, if any, should be enacted. But I do think that we must retain our ability to deliberate reasonably about right and wrong, better and worse. We must not give in to, in St. Hilda’s words, “the fear and hate that can swallow us up.” That is our spiritual and moral struggle.

I give the last word to the Archbishop of York, Dr. John Sentamu, a man whose views I do not always share, but who I believe got it just right in his maiden speech to the House of Lords. Dr. Sentamu said,

We need to create a climate where everyone is not just a guest or tourist, but a joint home-builder in this green and pleasant land.

With God’s help, may it be so. +

 

Where God Lives  

by Linda Dini Jenkins

I am humming in the shower and suddenly I catch myself and stop. This is ridiculous: an entrenched New England Liberal Congregationalist humming that most Billy Graham-ish of hymns, “How Great Thou Art.” I don’t even know the words beyond the two closing lines:

Then sings my soul, my Saviour God to thee

How great thou art, how great thou art . . .

 

What to make of this?

I often sing in the shower. Show tunes. Joni Mitchell songs. Maybe the Joan Baez version of “Amazing Grace” as I rinse my hair and the soap runs warmly down my back. More often than not, though, I catch myself singing some old hymn. My grandmother’s hymns. They comfort me.

I come to the garden alone,

        while the dew is still on the roses;

And the voice I hear, falling on my ear,

        the Son of God discloses.

And he walks with me and he talks with me,

        and he tells me I am his own,

And the joy we share as we tarry there,

        none other has ever known.

Author Patricia Schneider suggests in her memoir, Wake Up Laughing, that to us Protestant women, hymn singing is akin to the rosary praying of Catholic women. That we both take some comfort in the familiar, repetitive words. That they bring us back to a simpler, quieter place, give us focus, clear our minds of the foolish stresses of everyday living, even if only for a moment.

I do believe that hymns are a form of prayer. Music is transcendent, an emotion-filled art, and good words provide us with solace, meaning, and hope. And those who know say that the very act of singing — or even humming — fills our lungs with new air and our bodies with life-affirming vibrations. Singing for health. Singing as body work. Count me in, even if I don’t have much of a voice anymore.

I grew up in the Methodist church singing the stirring music of those Wesley boys, and the no-nonsense lyrics of the small but mighty Isaac Watts, who created a new style of hymnody with his songs “of human composure.” What a legacy! Remember what he did with Psalm 90? If you’ve ever heard this on a big church organ, your bones are probably still rattling.

O God, our help in ages past,

            our hope for years to come,

Our shelter from the stormy blast,

            and our eternal home . . .

There is something so straightforward and powerful in those words, so much belief, that a communal singing of it becomes an immense affirmation of the strength and support of God. It offers no room for doubt that God has been there all along, and will continue to be. That God has a place for us in the great eternity, and that God’s love will never let us go. Pretty good, huh? Sing it to yourself and feel it in your body. Believe it.

Years ago I saw a wonderful play by Tina Howe called Painting Churches, in which the mother character — a maddeningly, lovingly eccentric woman in her 70s — hummed hymns all day long, infuriating her sophisticated, artist daughter. It becomes a running gag in the play: the mother, the hymns, the rolling eyes of the daughter. And while I don’t remember the exact rationale for the mother’s hymn signing, I do remember how much I felt comforted by the fact that somebody else did this. That somebody else hummed hymns while dusting, while doing the dishes, while driving . . . that somebody else craved the presence of God in the midst of the routine.

Music is where God lives, for me. As inspiring and moving as it is to be in community on Sunday morning, to recite the prayers together, to hear the Word together — as wonderful as all that is — I think I feel closer to God one on one, in my wobbly voiced moments of song.

In song I praise God, I seek comfort, I am alone, I am, as one hymn goes, “just as I am.” Praying for myself and for others. Hoping for justice, searching for peace, weeping for pain and loss, grateful for comfort, however it comes. Joining with the many who sang before me — and who still declare — “How Great Thou Art.” +