“For the Lord your God is the God of gods and Lord of lords. He is the great God, the mighty and awesome God, who shows no partiality and cannot be bribed. He ensures that orphans and widows receive justice. He shows love to the foreigners living among you and gives them food and clothing. So you, too, must show love to foreigners, for you yourselves were once foreigners in the land of Egypt.” – Deuteronomy 10:17-19

I stand by my immigrant sisters and brothers.

Yesterday – February 15 – I celebrated the forty-first anniversary of the day I became a U.S. citizen. I once was a foreigner in this land and this beautiful country has showed me so much love.

Everyone has a unique journey. Some come as refugees (political and economic), some find themselves here because of family, some yearn for a better life, some are in America because they want to start over, some make their way to the USA for a specific opportunity….

As for me, I first flew into the U.S. in 1975, here for two weeks to attend a wedding in Florida. I then hung around to travel for a few months. Eventually, I stayed even longer to attend university, where I fell in love with Rebekah. We got married, I became a school teacher, we started a family and then we traveled to England for a memorial service in 1983. When we landed back in the USA I immediately recognized that this country had become (is) my home. I applied for citizenship simply to formalize what had already happened.

The United States has always represented what is possible: a beacon of hope, and invitation, and opportunity, and possibility, and promise – and a generous sense of “Welcome to America! Now show us what you’ve got!”

The sense of hope is very much still in play. But it is the hospitality, the kindness, the benefit of the doubt, the recognition of shared experience and the “give it your best shot, weary traveler” nod of understanding and respect that all seem very much in question in this current political climate.

A key measure of a culture – especially one imbued with power, is how we treat our most vulnerable – especially those wearing uniforms and wielding state authority. A little more kindness would go a long way, a little more recognition of our shared humanity, a lot less riding roughshod over civil liberties and a lot more in the way of basic human decency.

I guess what I’m saying – and in less than precise terms – is that the tone has shifted, somebody took down the welcome sign, people are scared instead of hopeful… and it just doesn’t feel right.

“For you yourselves were once foreigners in the land…” – DEREK

"Give me your tired, your poor, / Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, / The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. / Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, / I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"