If I have a fear for the Church in this moment of history, it is that we may just have lost a portion of our soul, a portion of the Spirit. Under assault, we may have chosen to remain quiet in the midst of the world, content to administer the sacraments and avoid ruffling feathers. Is it not possible that the Church and perhaps even we ordained have become too comfortable, too rich in a way, that we are no longer either the voice or stewards of the Church for the poor, the homeless, the hungry, the vulnerable, the naked and the imprisoned.
Let me offer three examples from the current moment as a litmus test as to whether or not we truly, ecclesially and individually reflect the caritas Christi. In this local Church, there are approximately 115,000 illegals. For the most part they are working, for below subsistence wages and because of their illegal status they are not accessing social services. They are in baptism overwhelmingly our brothers and sisters in the faith. Where are our voices against the proposed draconian legislation passed by the House of Representatives which in its present form could make this diocese and me a felon for our mobile health car van moving among the camps providing minimal primary medical care? Where is our vocal support for Father Demetrio Lorden and Our Lady of Guadalupe parish, whose whole parish can be deported if this legislation passes. All of our priests and religious are at risk if they choose to offer the love of Christ to an illegal and so are our dedicated generous lay women and men.
The legislation which has passed one chamber and is under current consideration in the Senate could bring about the destruction of families among the illegals and in its present form it will criminalize many of our historical works of mercy among our brothers and sisters. There is no one word of acknowledgment of the contribution to our lives and to our society of these brothers and sisters, hermanas y hermanos. This legislation in its present form makes a mockery of all America stands for and suggests that perhaps we should chisel new words into Emma Lazarus famous greeting on the statue of liberty: Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breath free, unless they come from Mexico or some other Central American country. Where my brothers are our voices? Are we afraid? Do we fear risking the ire of those whose minds are settled by a few afternoon radio talk shows? Where is the spirit of the Lord? I beg you to stand with the Church of immigrants to seek a more realistic, far less draconian solution that upholds the dignity of every human person and the unity of every family