We live in an Information Age in which political truth is always up for debate. Truth belongs to the one who tallies up the greatest number of arguments for his case. Sometimes, truth is sold to the highest bidder. Truth is most of all a cultural mindset: an unwillingness to deviate from a way of life we wish to preserve, a way of life broken and crumbling before our eyes, a way of life not based on forgiveness.

We do not think we value this way of life until some act of hatred results from our desire to protect it. To think -- the military of our United States once used guns to march Native Americans into the West, simply because we did not wish to share the land. To think -- the plantation owners of these United States would fight, kill and die for their lifestyle rather than release the slaves who gave them wealth. To think -- we would tell our men and women today the best use of their talents is to patrol the Mexican border with guns, scan surveillance cameras and design laws for the purpose of keeping their Mexican brothers and sisters out.

But then, “brothers and sisters” is a phrase rarely used by governments when speaking of people from unpopular nations or ethnicities. Those words are based on Christian truth. Societies and governments have other words such as “foreigner,” “alien,” “enemy,” “offender,” and “Mexican.” They are not always venomous terms, but they tend to diminish our love for one another. When we choose to use these words, we are the eye saying to the hand “I don’t need you!” and the head saying to the feet, “Be cut off!”

Although the apostle Paul was a student of Jewish and Roman law, he called love “the most excellent way.” Love is more excellent than the defeatist attitude which convinces us we are incapable of caring for our Mexican brothers and sisters. Love is more excellent than the distorted truth which says the blessings of God do not extend beyond the border of the United States. Love is more excellent than fear,, which enslaves us so we do not count the gifts of knowing a stranger as worth the risk to ourselves.

All the while Mexico is the man who journeyed from Jerusalem to Jericho, who fell into the hands of robbers, and Christian America is the scribe, stumbling about saying, “Who is my neighbor? Who is my neighbor?” so that the truth of his responsibility to his brother might be reasonably concealed.

I am not certain whether the Christian Mexican should be like Paul in prison, submitting to the authorities of his government and ours, even though those authorities may lead to less opportunity or death. I am not certain whether we should send the Mexican back, as Paul sent Onesimus back to the slave owner from whom he had escaped.

However, I do know that I would like the people of the United States, in the least, the Christians of the United States, to be regarded for their mercy. I do know that Paul’s request to Onesimus’s owner was that he would regard him “no longer as a slave, but a dear brother.” And I do know if Mexico is lying in the gutter, I would rather be the Samaritan than the priest of great repute. After I had helped Mexico on his way, perhaps I would find that Mexico is the Samaritan, too.

Thanks to Tim Ross and Phil Kenneson for their discussions on the Kingdom.