Who is my Neighbor? A Christian Conversation on Immigrati

By Maria-Jose Soerens

The 33 Chilean Miners rescued yesterday captured the imagination of the world and inspired us all through their relentless hope, courage and solidarity towards one another.
Many have already begun to estimate the repercussions of this event for Chile’s stand in the world, President Piñera’s political career, and the working conditions of the miners. However, as I watched the rescue online, I could not stop pondering what would this mean for Chile’s national identity; an identity that has been broken, always in flux, always trying to root itself on fleeting quasi-victories.
As a Chilean born in 1980, during Pinochet’s dictatorship, I always wondered what was the spirit of my country before the unresolved trauma of 9/11/1973. Because, it all seemed to indicate that in the same way a human being who is the victim of trauma struggles to build their identity back together, Chile too had lost its identity in a disorganized narrative of blood, injustice, abuse of power and lack of reconciliation.
Chileans have struggled for decades trying to define “what it means to be Chilean,” and this subject has haunted many Chilean authors, sociologists, and ex-pats…the ultimate Chilean archetype.
But in the midst of this confusion, the Land has pushed through to rescue us; to call our attention towards truth. It seems as though our long and skinny country, its mountains, its ocean, its forest, have all colluded together to send us messages about who we are; to show us the way forward, to express the cry of our country and the ways to reconciliation. We have been rescued by the Land.

One of the most striking messages was brought to us by the earthquake of February 28 of 2010. This earthquake was so strong, that it managed to move the entire planet Earth a couple of degrees off its axis, affecting the duration of days and years to come. The metaphor was too beautiful to be ignored: In the same way our traumatic experiences are dissociated and frozen “outside of time;” outside of the coherent narrative of our lives, the earthquake was enacting our country’s trauma. The Land was speaking to us. By enacting our country’s suffering the Land was showing us that we are in pain. That we must heal, reconstruct our narrative, not be afraid of telling our story; of facing each other and recognizing each other as brothers and sisters, sons and daughters from the same Land.
Later this year, in August, the Land spoke again. Trapping 33 miners for 69 days to show us what is the real spirit of Chile despite our past divisions and injustices. The Land fostered an opportunity for 33 men to lead the way towards believing in our values and in our unbeatable resilience.
The miners and their family members, signified this experience as a re-birth. As each one of the 33 men came up from the dark entrails of the earth into light, with such expectation and celebration, a country was as well being re-born.
It was the first time that my generation witnessed our government and its partners working together with a successful outcome. It was the first time that the massive celebrations downtown Santiago did not end up with violence, and people being in prison. The gift of these miners and their families to Chile is invaluable. They have become the heroes in a narrative that is reborn; the narrative of brave Chileans, who will show solidarity and generosity  no matter how much adversity there is in front of them. A narrative alternative to political differences that does not ignore tragedy, but rather remind us all that we can come together in unity to redeem it.

As I carry a half Chilean boy in my womb, I am grateful for the gift of being able to tell this story to my son, and let him know that he too carries in his heart the strength to face adversity in solidarity. May this story continues to inform our being Chilean; may these miners and their families continue to call us to truth. May we recognize on each other the face of brothers and sisters who are children of the same land. Viva Chile.

This is a blog entry from “Tierra Nueva, ” an ecumenical ministry  serving migrant farm workers and inmates of the Skagit County jail in Burlington, WA. It wrestles with the issue of powerlessness. It has always impressed me that whenever we read scripture through the eyes of the poor, we discover that Jesus was not messing around when he said he had come to identify with the oppressed. Somehow the Bible comes alive when we learn the stories of those who have been in jail, those who have been tortured, raped, or those who have lost everything yet have found a sense of hope and redemption. Jesus’ life parallels perfectly with those on the downside of power.

“I do what I hate: more stories from the women’s jail”

“On Sunday in the women’s jail Bible study, we addressed the very difficult but foundational topic of powerlessness. It’s one of the steps in alcoholics anonymous . . . admitting that our lives are out of control. The women said they had been to hundreds of “meetings;” the idea was quite familiar. But they were surprised to find it in Scripture: I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it. Instead, I do what I hate. (Romans 7:15)

This raised some interesting questions . . . who is to blame? They’ve spent a lot of time blaming others (boyfriends, fathers, mothers, friends who betrayed them). And they’ve spent a lot of time blaming themselves (I’m no good; I can’t change; I must be defective). Yet Paul scandalously says, “So I am not the one doing wrong; it is sin living in me that does it.” (v.17)” Read More…