Saturday, June 25, 2016

First,,, Mexican...Really?

It’s official: the Clergy Session voted yesterday to commission me: a Mexican American, mother, partner, poet, preacher, creature.
 Here in the Pacific Northwest we advocate for immigrant clergy and continue to work for inclusion of those who identify as Ethnic Minority Clergy and Lay Ministers. We have Hispanic and Latino ministers who are Licensed Local Pastors and Certified Lay Ministers. We have a committee to serve us and a Director of Hispanic/Latino Ministries in the Office of Connectional Ministries.
So it might seem that we could/should/would have ordained a Mexican American before now. Perhaps that is why it is really difficult to determine for sure if we have ever ordained a Mexican American. When people hear that I may be the first Mexican American or even the first Latino/Latina to be ordained their reactions tend to stem from shock and sadness. They experience something like whiplash because they were moving toward realizing diversity at such a clip until I awoke them to this halting reality.
            The most common response to the news that I might be the first is one of surprise. First they have to recall the fact that I am Mexican American-because I don’t look or sound like their idea of Mexican. Then they wonder, how can it be that it took this long?! Finally, they begin to wonder how to respond. It is painful enough to have to defend or remind someone that my Mexican heritage is real and authentic. As part of my ordination process, I have had to be an unwelcome reminder that systematic exclusions are still in place and undermining our efforts to be a diverse community.
This is such hard work! There will be a temptation to minimize this achievement for our conference; it’s a somewhat dubious honor to be the first in our annual conference because it means it has taken us this long to smuggle someone in. There are such high walls- both literal and figurative -that were meant to reinforce beliefs about what belongs to whom. My pastoral work is marked by the fact that my mere presence might cause people to see a kingdom in which the last shall be first-and those who have been first heretofore may not like what they see. Inviting me to join the ranks of clergy is an open invitation to all of us (you and me both!) to see the system (and ourselves in it) with new eyes that look kindly on what we struggle to understand.
Those who hold the institutional memory either in a digital format or in their heads and hearts want to be sure before we claim that I am first before we do so. They are just now beginning the research. But just as my commissioning has not been a solo effort, nor will this next project be. This next project of spreading the question abroad and checking the archives is fraught with danger: will we do the work as if it is holy and important? Will we celebrate well if we arrive at the conclusion it has taken us this long to take this next step of faith? Will we hold the sadness and the joy so that we are moved to action?
I hope we do: my ordination will be a call to action for all who believe in lifting up those who are underrepresented, disenfranchised and suffering federally mandated exclusion. Including me in the ranks of clergy gives me a vote, invites me to the table and begins a new age of increasing diversity in our institution. I think that is worth celebrating even if we experience pain along the way.
In a recent article Sam Hodges briefly explained the many factors that hold so many Hispanics and Latinos back from becoming ordained elders or keep us out of seminary.[1] The temptation for Hispanic/Latinos to remain Licensed Local Pastors or Certified Lay Ministers is strong because we are a necessary part of leadership right now –we don’t have time to go to school far away from our congregations- and at pay rates new faith communities can afford. Hodges also mentions, however, the danger inherent in relying on the office of LLP or CLM: we will remain underrepresented and underpaid. An already complex process of discerning a call to ministry is made more so by questions immigrants must answer about their unique position in a glocal society where cultural loyalties create deep-seated ambivalence in our families. Add to this ambivalence questions about legal status and the immigrant experience of itinerancy. In a recent conversation with a friend who attended seminary as a DACA student we discussed the ways the experience of immigration affects our ability to fully embrace the itinerant system that is just now learning to adapt to account for the unique needs of qualified clergy whose citizenship is in limbo.
Until those of us with power and privilege use such assets to raise up another who identifies as Hispanic/Latino I will be the only recognized ethnic representative on many issues for some of our nearest and dearest neighbors.  I’m not exactly the first person I would have chosen to do this task; I’m biracial, my Spanish language skill is only slowly growing as my friends and family graciously correct me in our Spanglish conversations. But I was born on American soil, raised to speak English fairly well and managed to get an MDiv and although this qualifiers are standard among my Anglo colleagues, I’m a rarity among my talented Hispanic/Latino colleagues.
As the daughter of a Caucasian mother and Mexican American father I was born with very light skin and a family that urged me to chase the same dreams my white(r) friends pursued. Of course, my road was a bit bumpier than most because no one in my family had ever earned a masters degree. Looking back on the myriad cultural misgivings and mistakes I made (just trying to “pass” and pass one more class) I see now that there were people along the way who recognized what I was going through. They reminded me to be myself even (especially) when I least wanted to be. They didn’t do it for my sake but because they knew their world would need me to have a sturdy sense of what set me apart. They taught me to recognize my unique gifts as a privilege. As time passed I realized that if I want to steward this privilege well, I needed to take on the responsibility of stepping out into the fray, leading, in such a way that will make it easy for others to follow.
The questions that I must answer as I continue this journey are daunting. How will others recognize and receive my gift to the church and how will I find my place in the church if there has never been anyone else like me to fill these pulpits? How do I hold on to what makes me unique as the system that prepares us urges in compelling and/or subversive ways to adopt it’s ways spiritually, theologically, emotionally? The answers to these seem to lie in naming the people, polity and projects that have helped me to identify the ways in which the Order mandates I hold on to what makes me different.
The committees and clergy who have walked with me the last ten years of work toward ordination have helped me discover who I am called to be. What is more, they have had to imagine how I fit into a system that wasn’t built to include me. In some cases, they have even had to recognize my budding calling long before I did. They have consulted with those who saved a place for me at The Table. They have murmured to one another in awe that we have come this far. There are those who prayed for me before I was born, hoping that one day there would be a young biracial Latina mother with arms wide and strong enough to carry us into the next phase of diversity.
So it’s not me we celebrate. We celebrate movement that truly opens doors, and gives voice to the unheard. Commissioning has never been about passing privilege between friends. It is a chance for all God’s people to relish and renew your commitment to welcoming the strangers into your power structure, clothing the orphans with robes and stoles, and standing aside when the widows take their places in your pulpits.
…By the power of Christ the blessed outcast, the holy coyote who smuggles us across borders built by fear so we may preside over the plate for all people, Amen.







[1] http://www.umc.org/news-and-media/local-pastors-lead-hispanic-outreach

2 comments: