My wife and I took a vacation to Key West. Though I am a fourth-generation Native Floridian, I had never been to the Keys. Funny, when we told people we were going to Key West, some would roll their eyes and say, “Well, you will see a lot of interesting things.”  The inference was we would see things that would shock us, or that would be negative. 

During our three days there, we had a ball. It happened to be the weekend Jimmy Buffett died, so we got to see the memorial parade. We visited the Little White House and the Hemingway House, went on a porpoise and diving cruise, and had many pieces of Key Lime Pie. Contrary to the impression some people gave us, everyone was friendly, and we saw nothing that shocked us or even offended us. Of course, we skipped the clothing-optional bar. 

By the third day, our feet were tired, and we called an Uber. Our driver was named Williams, and he spoke with a heavy Spanish accent. He asked where we were from, and we asked him the same. Williams said he was from Cuba and that he had been in the United States for eleven years. Hearing that, I had to ask him his story. 

He told us he had applied for political asylum and was allowed to leave Cuba to come to the States. He was fearful he would not be allowed to stay, but his case was processed rapidly, and he was granted citizenship. He rifled through the papers in his glovebox and pulled out his passport. With obvious pride, he showed it to us. 

Then he told us he kept his passport with him at all times. He had been stopped many times by officials checking to see if he was “legal.”  He said, “I know they stop me because of the way I look, so I always want to show my passport to show I am a citizen.”

I expected him to protest how unfair this was, but he didn’t. Instead, he said, “I am so glad to be in this country.” 

He told us that in Cuba, corruption was everywhere. Everyone worked for the government, and then the government took all your money. “In the United States,” he said, “you work hard, and you get to keep your money. I am so glad to be here.” 

He told us his uncle had died in Cuba during the COVID pandemic. He had gone to the doctor, but the doctor told him there were no drugs. Only the elite received the vaccine; only the elite had access to medical equipment like ventilators. You could hear the grief and bitterness mixed in his voice at the unfairness of a system that claims to treat everyone equally but, in reality, only serves the elite. 

The ride was a short one, but I kept thinking, “Isn’t this the kind of person we want in our country?”  Someone who works hard sees injustice, someone who was willing to take the courageous step of walking away from home because they could not stand the tyranny of a government that does not care for its people. Aren’t these the kind of people who built this country? 

I thought about Williams on the trip home (when you are driving back from the Keys to South Carolina, you have a lot of time to think). In the brief ten-minute ride, there was so much to learn. I’ll start with the obvious: Jesus said when you take in the stranger, it is like you are taking in him. True followers of Jesus welcome people because God loves them. I don’t pretend to understand immigration policy, but I do understand every person matters to God. If people matter to God, they should matter to us. Williams matters to God.   

I was reminded not to profile people. No one from immigration has ever stopped me and asked me to prove I’m a citizen of the United States. Is that because I am a white male with traces of a Southern accent? Jesus told us, “Judge not, lest you be judged.”  If I am truly a follower of Jesus, I will not judge people based on their accent or the color of their skin. To quote Martin Luther King, Jr., “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.” 

The poem written by Emma Lazarus affixed to the Statue of Liberty says,

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" 

That is our ideal as a country. We don’t always live up to that ideal. It should be our goal. It is also an ideal for Jesus’ church. Give us all the broken people (for that is all of us). We will show you the door to eternal life, life with Jesus.   

Like Williams, I am glad to be here, a citizen of the United States of America. But I‘m also glad to be here, part of the body of Jesus.