From the Editor

God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength. —1 Corinthians 1:25

While watching Executive Board members taking a prayer walk through Phoenix on Jan. 9, I was struck by how futile—even foolish—the gesture seemed.

The Arizona industry built up around the detention and deportation of undocumented residents is huge—and profitable for some. The massive Maricopa County Supreme Court building, a large detention center nearby and one of sheriff Joe Arpaio’s numerous facilities testify to the resolve and power wielded by state and federal authorities as they administer a broken immigration system.

This summer, participants at the Phoenix convention will be invited to take a similar walk through those beautifully landscaped streets that mask so much misery. At certain points along the way, participants will stop in silence, kneel and pray. According to André Gingerich Stoner, one of the organizers, the walk is designed to cultivate “a long, loving gaze at the real.”

It is very real, and it is ugly.

But there are other realities as well. It is from them we can draw hope.

While President Obama’s administration continues to deport record numbers of undocumented residents, a few small ministries light candles in the darkness.

Through a Tucson, Ariz.-based program called BorderLinks, several dozen of us visited both sides of the U.S.-Mexico border in the binational city of Nogales, Ariz./Mexico. In small groups and with translators, we talked to people recently picked up by the U.S. Border Patrol and unceremoniously deposited back in Mexico.

One 20-something mother had lived in Oxnard, Calif., for years; when she was deported she left behind a husband, three U.S. born children and an employer who wanted her help picking strawberries. We were told that just having people listen to their stories without judgment was a comfort to these would-be immigrants.

The high point for our trip, however, was dinner at Casa Mariposa in Tucson, a hospitality house for people released from immigration detention. The primary benefit for those detained is a physical address—a requirement for release.

The evening we visited, four young men—recently released—were enjoying the hospitality. Marco, the rotund and effusive chef, told us his story after dinner. He had been in detention seven years. One day, he said, he told God, “I am tired of praying to you and nothing happens. If nothing happens today I will stop praying.”

That day, a BorderLinks staff member succeeded in raising the bond money necessary for his release.

Ministries such as BorderLinks and Casa Mariposa are miniscule when compared with the machinery of government detention and deportation. But in the face of untold human misery, they offer some relief to a few.

Several times I have heard Stoner say convention participants should not go to the Phoenix convention expecting to fix Arizona but should participate to learn about the system—and take those learnings home. That and praying for “God’s foolishness” to abound is about all we will be able to do. And as we pray, we may be as frustrated and feel as hopeless as did Marco on his last day in detention.