I have been sitting here staring at the blank web log entry screen, staring because I don’t know how shape my response to this Pew Research survey from last month regarding American views of refugees. Age, race, education show marked differences on U.S. responsibility to accept refugees (not immigrants btw).

In short, Evangelicals – white evangelical Protestants are at the very bottom of those surveyed convinced that the nation has a responsibility to accept refugees (25 percent). Black, Hispanic, younger, college educated, Catholic, faith-unaffiliated – all have a more accepting response toward refugees.

I spent the weekend running through the usual emotional responses to the press these days… anger, depression, confusion… and settled into a very biblical spiritual state: lament. “How long O Lord…?” This morning I arrive at attempting to disentangle the underlying reasons and forces behind the survey results. That’s why I sit and stare. I feel like I am on an island all alone.

I am not Evangelical even if I wanted to be. Lakeland isn’t Evangelical either. I don’t know what label applies to us. I am sure some label applies.

If Christianity is a like the Aegean Sea, a large sea dotted with many many many islands, then we are some little island of no quick black-and-white identity. We have no flag, no anthem, no tattoo, or snappy slogan. We are just us. Like it our not, we are white, educated, affluent, suburbanites who drive nice cars. The liberals and hipsters don’t like us because we are so hegemonic ( that’s why we don’t have to do anything). The conservatives don’t like us because we “let anyone go to Lakeland.” We have gay friends – that pretty much disenfranchises us from – somebody.

It is difficult to categorize Lakeland. And that causes a lot of consternation. Fuzzy identity causes stress. All of us want to acclimate to our surrounding culture. We want to know a) who we are and who we are not b) what we believe and what we do not believe in absolute terms.

On our island we go about our work: we help refugees, we resource the under-resourced, we defy the government of C___ and start illegal ministries, we help find safe homes for prostituted women – even though neighbors don’t want them there, we go across the Rio Grande river… that’s who we are. We let people come to our Lord’s Table that are convicted pedophiles, divorcees, non-traditional identities (did you like that one?), abusers, users, doubters, shouters, do-nothings, and activists. We believe in a self-emptying God of Philippians 2:5-11 (kenotic God), a cross-forgiving King, and a messy church even though we don’t like to put up with it.

So, after sitting and staring I will ask folks for mowers and string trimmers for the inner city, deposit checks in subversive overseas accounts, find safe housing for beat up missionaries, sign some bank papers, do some research and teaching, cry with somebody who has cancer, and just go about doing really mundane things. This is what we do on our little island in the Christian sea.