Fascism

Beyond Welcoming the Stranger (sermon)

First Unitarian Universalist Society of Burlington

October 4, 2026

Reverend Karen G. Johnston, Senior Minister

Welcome the stranger. Yes.

Yet in a time of tyrannical xenophobia, when the immigrant “stranger” is called “target” before their humanity is acknowledged, we must do more than welcome. We must defend the stranger.

In the Work That Reconnects, created by Buddhist scholar and environmental activist, Joanna Macy, the way that we create the conditions for what she called “the Great Turning,” instead of falling victim to “the Great Unraveling,” or being complicit with “Business as Usual,” there are three, interconnected and simultaneous strategies:

  • Actions that stop the harm
  • Actions that build Beloved Community
  • Actions that shift our culture and change our collective consciousness

I’ll say those again.

  • Actions that stop the harm
  • Actions that build Beloved Community
  • Actions that shift our culture and change our collective consciousness

An easier way to say this might be

  • Stop & remove
  • Replace & rebuild
  • Transform

I want to share some of my thoughts about actions that stop the harm and invite you into finding your way and your role, based on your personal context, skills, window of tolerance, and social location.

I’m going to share some of my story. I fear in doing so it will appear, or even have the impact, of shining the light on me, like I’m asking you to tell me how brave I am. That is not my intent, and I hope it is not my impact. I will tell some of my story to shine a light where it doesn’t usually shine, and also to shine the light on those who are experiencing horrific harm at the hands of our government.

Horrific harm? You have heard some of the stories, though they are not making the news like they used to. You know the stories of Renee Good and Alex Pretti, murdered in Minneapolis by ICE at the start of this year, white faces and white activists that look familiar to many of us, names that slide more easily off the tongue for those of us with Anglo or English-speaking backgrounds.

But what about Mario David Coronado Juarez of Guatemala, 35 years old when he died just two weeks ago, in a fiery car crash as ICE chased him at high speeds. Turns out, he was not the person they were seeking. 

Or the three-year old child, whose mother was deported, the child left with extended family who abused, then killed him. That child will not be on any formal list of having died in ICE detention or in some reckless traffic stop. Yet, they are culpable, nevertheless. Not to mention that ICE has stopped keeping such a list, masking their violence.

The surges in our big cities – Los Angeles, New Orleans, Minneapolis – got a lot of media attention, caused havoc, brought violence and suffering.  Yet, with the evolution in ICE strategies and tactics, becoming more subtle, there is less reporting of it in the mainstream media, even as the numbers of people in detention grow, even as the numbers of people deported grow, some sent to third party countries, some killed when returned to the nations of their origin.

In the face of this, I want to raise to you the long tradition of what is sometimes called civil disobedience. Gandhi. Dr. King. Thich Nhat Hanh. And our own Unitarian Universalist heritage – David Henry Thoreau.

Dr. King, who wrote

An individual who breaks a law that conscience tells him is unjust, and who willingly accepts the penalty of imprisonment in order to arouse the conscience of the community over its injustice, is in reality expressing the highest respect for the law.

Or you can see the quote at the top of the order of service, also from Dr. King:

We who in engage in nonviolent direct action are not the creators of tension. We merely bring to the surface the hidden tension that is already alive.

I want to offer you a brief window into my most recent experience of civil disobedience or, in more modern parlance, non-violent direct action. As some, probably most, maybe all of you, know, I was with six other faith leaders when we were arrested in Williston on September 4 for blocking entrance into (not out of) the Department of Homeland Security’s National Criminal Analysis and Targeting Center. Our goal was to stop the banal data analysis and surveillance that takes place there, sending out hunt orders for our immigrant neighbors across the country.

Thoreau, who wrote

Let your life be a counter-friction to stop the machine. What I have to do is to see, at any rate, that I do not lend myself to the wrong which I condemn.

Or much more recently, Unitarian Universalist minister, the Reverend Sara LaWall, who was arrested in April for sitting in the Idaho governor’s office, protesting horrifying anti-trans legislation. On September 17th, she was found guilty. At her trial she said this:

I could not, in good conscience, sacrifice my moral and religious integrity for the comfort of obeying the state and allowing these injustices to go unanswered…. My UU theology is […] rooted in dissent against oppression, over centuries of religious thought. Our historic commitments to just action and faithful dissent have led UU’s around the world to actively oppose unjust governments and policies as a religious act.

Locating myself within the legacy of so many who have come before me – anti-war protestors, anti-nuke protestors, civil rights activists, environmental activists, the Winooski 44 – I decided that it was important that I express my lack of cooperation with the ICE machine of cruelty not only with my voice, but also with my body.

When I was arrested, I would not walk. The Venerable Reverend Susan Mcmillan, Archdeacon at the Episcopal St. Paul’s Cathedral down the road from us, made the same decision.

Separated from the other arrested faith leaders, she and I spent about 20 minutes inside, while the state troopers figured out what to do with us. Susan began to pray:

Do justice. Love mercy. Welcome the stranger.

Over and over again.

Do justice. Love mercy. Welcome the stranger.

Under her breath, right next to me, loud enough for the troopers to hear. If you see the video footage once she is carried to a vehicle, you can hear her continuing this prayer.

Do justice. Love mercy. Welcome the stranger.

It was so powerful.

When you see this particular footage, you can also see me being carried out as well, saying “I refuse to cooperate with this center of cruelty.” That was my faithful witness out there, outdoors.

Indoors, my hands cuffed behind my back, the troopers having gently placed Susan’s and my bodies against a wall so that we could lean relatively more comfortably, I found myself singing a song I had never heard before but came through me. I sung it for myself. I sung it for Susan. I sung it for all who are caught in the snares of the ICE machine.

And I sung it for the law enforcement officers.

I wish you ease.

I wish you peace.

I wish you ease and peace and peace and ease.

I wish all beings, peace and ease and ease and peace.

It was then I knew that I was being carried along in the lineage stream of great practitioners of civil disobedience (not being great myself, but in their company). Where I felt connection to Thoreau, his call to be counter-friction to stop the machine.

I felt my Buddhist practice holding me, Thich Nhat Hanh’s wisdom coming through me, as I thought about his belief that “only loving speech and compassionate listening can help people correct wrong perceptions.”

Maybe I was there because of my politics, but much more so, because of my religious values.

I was there because I belong to something greater than myself.

Because we all belong to something greater than ourselves.

The images – videos and photos – of what has become now known as “the Clergy 7” have gotten a lot of play – social media and media media. Including Rachel Maddow. That’s cool. I understand that a colleague of mine has ordered a mugshot mug for me. That’s definitely cool.

Some of the troll comments haven’t been so cool. But the letters and postcards each of us have received from around the country – those have been cool. Connecticut, Ohio, Delaware, Pennsylvania, California…

Yet that footage makes it seem like that non-violent direct action was just the Clergy 7 and hundreds of people gathered around to show their support. I want to make sure you know that in that particular case, and whenever there is a planned non-violent direct action, those who catch the eye of the camera or the reporter are only the tip of the iceberg.

There is a much more that is not visible, people working weeks and months in advance, people doing all sorts of support roles that do not risk arrest, there to do the care and prep work necessary for success. It’s amazing. And inspiring. And humbling.

I tell this to you, a week after preaching about how it takes all kinds of villagers to make a village. True of congregations. True, too, of communities of resistance.

There are roles that directly risk arrest. There are roles that never risk arrest. And many roles in-between. I tell this to you because so many people have come up to me, told me how courageous I was, with an unspoken “I couldn’t do that.” I want to say two things:

One: Maybe you could do it. If not now, possibly someday. I believe this nation needs more of us who place our bodies in the path of the machine to stop it.

And two: maybe you could do something now that supports the action but doesn’t require you to risk arrest – using your body and your wonderful gifts and skills to help. This is just as necessary. If you can’t be the tip of the iceberg, be part that is much larger, and less visible, giving the whole structure more power.

On August 10th, the Board of the Unitarian Universalist Association adopted a statement regarding civil disobedience and its relationship to our faith movement. It reads, in part:

Rooted in our powerful history of religious witness for just action and faithful dissent, we declare that Unitarian Universalists must stake our faith tradition today on the urgent call to act for liberation in our country, and condemn the anti-democratic forces of authoritarianism. Such a call encompasses civil disobedience, noncompliance and direct actions of protest, as it has in the past, while preserving our commitments to human dignity and democratic society. This commitment is essential to sustain with integrity our UU religious values of justice, equity, interdependence and pluralism, and our Constitutional rights and freedoms.

Faithful dissent. Sacred acts of non-compliance. These are the bricks and mortar for building a shrine of protection for all who are vulnerable.

If you think you want to find yourself in the wide and long stream of civil disobedience, behind the scenes or up front, I hope you will consider learning more about the Week of Action called Shut Down ICE VT that starts this afternoon at 4pm.  Not only starts this afternoon, but starts this afternoon in this sanctuary.

Go to shutdownicevt.org right now and sign up and come by 4pm for information about the extensive (and frankly, horrifying) network of ICE facilities that make their home in Chittenden County and how you can become involved to work to get them kicked out.

Because there is a three-year old who is now dead because our government deported his mother,

Let us find a way to use our moral imaginations to stop harm and injustice.

Let us find a way to use our moral imaginations to build the worlds we dream about.

Let us find a way to use our moral imaginations to shift dominant culture away from violence and shift our own consciousness to be a part of everyday acts of transformation.