Sweet Land of Liberty
Paul and I are back from a whirlwind journey to my mother’s motherland: the Philippines. My mom didn’t have the luxury of leisure, so we explored the places she didn’t get to go:
the beautiful beaches and snorkeling of the Palawan islands to the west,
the impressive 2000-year-old UNESCO World Heritage Banaue rice terraces in the north,
the iconic Mt. Pinatubo whose eruption altered its shape from what she would have seen on the northwest horizon.
Revs. Paul & Karyn at UNESCO World Heritage Banaue Rice Terraces.
Throughout my life and especially throughout this trip, I have reflected deeply on their decision to leave the Philippines and come to the United States: this place of promise, the country filled with immigrants from one generation or another, the sweet land of liberty where they would have the opportunity to not only barely survive, but perhaps, if they worked hard and they were lucky, perhaps could even have a chance to thrive.
I have long been grateful for the opportunities, rights, and protections that my life and citizenship in the United States have afforded me. When I finally made it back to the Philippines, I arrived as a person of immense privilege. I didn’t mind when local vendors charged us exorbitant tourist prices (still not very much in US dollars), because in a different lifetime I may have been one of those vendors trying to get by to the next day. In this lifetime, because of my mom’s immigration and our citizenship in the United States, I stood on the other side of the food stall.
Each time I checked that my passport was still safe and secure, I was reminded of the deep, deep anchor of my citizenship in the United States.
Each time I checked that my passport was still safe and secure, I was reminded of the rapid changes happening in the country I had left. I wondered what sort of place I would be returning to, and what my mom would think of everything happening today.
Though we did not have cell service or electricity to charge our phones for a decent portion of our trip, the news trickled in by way of non-Americans we met or the occasional news banner that popped up when we took our phones off airplane mode: ICE, USAID, DOGE, DEI, Gaza, Ukraine, plane crashes, the Gulf of Mexico (really???), Medicaid, and more.
From my standpoint as a United Methodist pastor who supports the values of our church (inclusion, service, justice, community, worship), recent words and actions from our country’s leaders have been remarkably disturbing.
I am disturbed because of the impact that these words and actions have on God’s beloved**:
To those who have dedicated their lives to public service and are now called wasteful, fraudulent, or disposable
To those who are well qualified for their roles but who are regarded as diversity hires because of their gender, sex, race, age, orientation, or immigration status
To those who are trans or genderqueer and whose ability to simply live in the world has been repeatedly threatened
To those who rely on mental health prescriptions or who live with disabilities and are told that they just aren’t trying hard enough, aren’t willing themselves well
To those who educate and inform with the hope of cultivating openness and acceptance and are told that their work is DEI nonsense
The sheer number of shocking actions – some that are taking effect, some that have backtracked – feels nearly impossible to follow. The quantity of misinformation coming from our elected and appointed leaders is baffling. Flooding the zone with a goliath landslide of chaotic changes has made it difficult to catch our breath, let alone speak out accurately and timely.
To each piece of news that crashes our way, we continually ask: “Is this real? Is this legal? Can this really happen?” in some small effort to not be reactionary or get carried away, and to instead focus on what matters most for the thriving of the people of our country. Still, it has been a struggle.
The worst part? We can’t afford to disengage.
We need to keep deciphering, debriefing, downloading so that we can keep our leaders accountable and advocate for the vulnerable. We certainly don’t need to keep ourselves deluged in the 24/7 news cycle without going to the surface for air, but we must stay engaged.
Your presence and voice can make an impact. Even when it is not enough to impact the law or the government’s actions, our presence and our voice makes an impact on us.
If you are worried about someone you love or about your own thriving, you are not alone. There are faith-based advocacy groups at every level who share your concerns for God’s beloved and who want to join your voice in advocating for the ability of all in our country and our world to have what they need to thrive.
If the federal level feels too overwhelming or difficult to tackle, there are other ways you can work for justice by advocating for your neighbor at the state level:
Food for All Oregonians: Expanding access to food assistance programs for all Oregonians, regardless of immigration status
Building on Progress- Governor’s Budget: increasing rent and housing assistance, particularly for vulnerable communities
Fully Funding Special Education and Support for Mental Health in Schools (HB 2953, HB2587, HB3151)
Paying for Cleanup/Recovery (SB682): Holding fossil fuel companies accountable by requiring them to contribute funds for environmental cleanup and disaster recovery
Farmworker Disaster Relief (HB3193): establish a permanent disaster relief program to provide financial aid to farmworkers impacted by climate-related disasters like wildfires, floods, and extreme weather events.
Our partners at the Sacred Organizing Coalition are ready to include you in this focused work.
If there is an issue that your United Methodist values move you to care about, speak on, and advocate for, now is the time to do so. When it feels too big or feels like too much, we remember that just as we do this work for the sake of one another, we lean on one another to get the work done.
Dr. King assured that the arc of the moral universe is long, but that it bends toward justice. It feels particularly long in seasons like this one. As it was for Dr. King and for many, some of our efforts (try as we might) will not bear fruit in our lifetimes.
My mom never reached a point in her life where she could rest, whole and happy. She was the sole salary earner of our family when she became unemployable due to her dementia. My minimum wage jobs earning a paltry $7.25/hour were not enough to cover groceries and transportation, let alone healthcare to treat her Alzheimer’s. As her world began to fall apart, depression and anxiety gripped my mom until she no longer knew was happening. After a lifetime of non-stop work, leaving her home country for one completely foreign, she did not get to experience the fruit of her labor.
But I have.
The chance to thrive, to rest, whole and happy, it has not happened in her lifetime, but it has happened in mine. Because she and those who supported her cared so deeply, holding onto the hope of a better tomorrow, my tomorrow is going to be better than one that she could ever imagine for herself.
Some of the advocacy and justice work that we do is the same. The really sticky, society-wide issues that feel huge and overwhelming, the ones where it feels like we are moving backwards (gender equity, acceptance and respect of difference, education and healthcare for all God’s children, care for the earth), some of those changes may not take their deepest roots in our lifetimes. I hope they do, but I know they may not. Still, because we care so deeply and hold onto the hope for a better tomorrow, the tomorrows of those we are raising up today will be better than we could ever imagine for ourselves.
This is what keeps me engaged. With myself as proof, I know that our collective action is not for naught.
I hope you’ll lend your voice for God’s beloved – no matter who is in governmental power or what party has the majority – so that as a whole congregation we can keep striving to love everyone unconditionally, connecting with our neighbors to build a more just world.
With gratitude,
Pastor Karyn
P.S. Tell us if you are already advocating or want to become involved!
** Adapted from a summary by my colleague Rev. Nico Reigns of those who are impacted.