proclaiming freedom to captives...

Syncopated voices vibrated in the sterile room of the third level of the Los Angeles Women's Jail. It was one of those feelings we all have felt: What did I get myself into?! Shaved heads, tattoos climbing up necks and onto soft feminine faces displaying 'hoods they were from. Loud voices taunting and jesting with each other confused me in the way you would feel on foreign soil; you know what their saying but you can't understand the words.

I clutched my bible and inmates yelled through walls or shouted through windows, Pray for me! My name is Channel and I'm up for parole soon! And, Hey you! My baby's daddy is in court tomorrow. Would you remember to say a prayer for him? I had no clue what I'd gotten myself into.

In my naivete I assumed this would be another speaking event with willing women's heart open to hear the gospel. I didn't expect to be fearful. I didn't expect to be afraid. I didn't expect to pray in the solitude of my mind feverishly for the right words to say. But the fears washed away as a simple guitar lead us into a time of worship.

Brown, black, white. Straight, lesbian, confused. Searchers, seekers, finders.

In one room we sang off beat and out of key to songs I will never forget. The words sung out by the lips of the women gathered in ward 304 dripped with sincerity. Lyrics, sung out with every fiber of their being, meant something more than mere words. It was one of the most moving times of worship I've ever experienced.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I walked towards the microphone. After getting comfortable with each other, we laughed together, learned together, and felt like a rowdy, motley crew of girls who needed some Jesus up in our lives.

Before leaving I had the privilege of praying with a dear sister who was sentenced to death row that very day. It was in that moment I realized she represented so many women who, though have freedom in the outside world, are prisoners to themselves.

As we go about our day, remember those who are living in an emotional, psychological, or physical prison and give them the One who proclaimed, The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of our Lord's favor and the day of vengeance of our God to comfort all who mourn... (Isaiah 61:1-2)

Friday Video Post: illegal immigration...

Before I'm a daughter, a teacher, a writer, or an Latino-American, I'm a Christian and I'm committed to the call of the Church. In other words, I'm concerned about how the Bible can orient the way the broader Christian community, denomination, and individual Christians understand their identity and role in the world today.

When it comes to the issue of illegal immigration, the topic is huge and extraordinarily complicated. I do not pretend to offer solutions contested issues or to propose some sort of political cure-all for the many problems. I simply want to raise dialogue and discussion about a serious situation. Once we can develop an appreciation of how complicated the situation is, it can help us move us beyond emotional attachments or simplistic positions that often dominate the media and current politics.

Too often discussion defaults to the passionate ideological arguments (It's not their land, It's not fair, It's illegal), economic wrangling (Immigrants are taking jobs and money), or racial sentiment (I just don't like Chinese people, I don't like Mexicans, I hate when people can't speak English).

According to Dr. D. Carroll, the number of immigrants, documented and undocumented, who have entered the country during the past thirty years has made this phenomenon the focus of national debate at many levels and in all sorts of arenas. The debate is heated, and it has generated interesting alliances that cross ideological lines.

He also notes Christians in our society locate themselves at different points along this broad spectrum of opinion. Carroll discovered that the conversation about immigration has more to do with ideological commitments, personal background, and experience rather than Christian convictions.

So--what do we do? How can we gently (and in love) discuss fear, apprehension, justice, power, forgiveness, and LOVE? Let's start the dialogue in love...

Scriptures to support both sides of the arguments:

Abraham welcoming foreigner (Gen. 18), Elijah welcomed by the Shunammites ( 2 Kings 4), sojourners not following or integrating in Israelite life (Duet. 17:15) and rituals (Exod. 12:43, Ezek. 44:7, sojourners must do hard labor (2 Chron. 2:22), aliens could be day laborers (Duet. 24:14), commanded to love the alien/foreigner (Lev. 19:18, 34, Matt. 22:34-40), Jesus as refugee (Matt. 2:13-14), sumbit to authorities and laws of the land (Romans 13:1-7).

doing things we don't want to do...

I called my sister and told her I was going to flake out on the mud run because running a 10k is bad for my health and my inordinate long leg (yes, one leg is longer than the other). She told me to stick it out and enjoy it for what it was. So you want me to enjoy running through mud pits and sand traps? I'm supposed to enjoy rolling around in dirt? I rolled my eyes and muttered, Whatever. But, alas, she was was right. Running around in mud pits and sand traps with team Hot Mess was so much fun, I can't wait to do it again!

I thought that I'd have some epiphany or something like a spiritual enlightenment when I crossed the finish line. Apparently I'm not that holy because I didn't. The only thing I wanted to do was remove the dirt from my hair and throw away my shoes. But having processed the event and spoken to a few people about the challenge it was for me to actually do the event, it's prepared me for what I have to do tomorrow.

God doesn't give more than we can handle, but He does strengthen our endurance by giving us trials for preparation of the future. James 1:2-4 says it like this: Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. In some weird way, the mud pits, sand pits, tire runs, and river team Hot Mess had to conquer are like the trials in our life that produce perseverance. Faith in my physical endurance was tested this weekend. But faith in myself will be tested tomorrow in front of almost 500 women as I share my personal struggles through life's mud pits, sand traps, and waist-deep rivers of my obsessions, struggles, and addictions. Afterwards I hope to finish and feel as I felt when we posed for this picture; relieved, accomplished, and happy it's over.