Beloved Community,
Today is the Fourth of July—a day when many gather to celebrate freedom, independence, and the ideals upon which this country claims to be founded. But today, my heart is heavy.
Many of us have experienced this struggle firsthand. Several of you have Latino family members or close friends who are already feeling the weight of these threats. This is not someone else's fight — it's ours.
I grieve because this week, a bill was passed that has been described by its supporters as "big" and "beautiful." But to millions of us—especially the poor, the elderly, women, children, the disabled, and the undocumented—it is anything but beautiful. This bill makes massive cuts to healthcare, food programs, and social support. Planned Parenthood will lose crucial funding, stripping reproductive and preventive healthcare from countless women. Children will lose access to food as school meal programs and family assistance are slashed. The wealthiest will benefit, while the most vulnerable will be left with even less.
I grieve because political figures—some of whom claim to be Christian—are speaking with genocidal language, calling for the extermination of Latino people in this country. Sixty-five million of us. That number is not random—it's the actual population of Latinos currently living in the United States. They are not just targeting an idea or a stereotype—they are targeting people: our families, our neighbors, our children. They are calling for your pastor's life and that of his family. They say we should be "fed to alligators." And far too many remain silent. Silence is complicity.
We've heard these patterns before—in textbooks, in museums, in stories asking, "How could this have happened?" Now, we are living it in real-time. And I grieve because, while some claim Christianity, they ignore Christ. Jesus said,
"For I was thirsty and you gave me drink. I was hungry and you fed me. I was a stranger and you gave me lodging. When I needed clothes, you gave me something to wear. When I was sick, you took care of me, and when I was in prison, you visited me." - (Matthew) Gift from Creator Tells the Good Story 25:35-36
What happened to that call?
Instead, we're watching a continued rise in Christian nationalism—where the church is used not to uplift the hurting but to make some feel better about themselves while ignoring suffering all around. We've become comfortable. Too comfortable.
Many of us are hurting—including this pastor. Not for your sympathy, but as a reminder: I am a pansexual, Mexican-American man. I live with the knowledge that there are people in this country calling for my death—for both my identity and my ethnicity. This is real.
And yet, some of you have told me you don't want to hear "politics" from the pulpit. But what is the gospel if not political? Jesus challenged empires. He broke unjust systems. He stood with the marginalized. It is not about partisanship. It is about humanity.
By the end of this year, millions of people will lose access to medical care and food. In our state, hundreds of thousands will be impacted. In our city, many will lose essential support—including some of those sitting next to you on Sunday morning. It didn't happen overnight. It took many votes and many approvals. It took apathy. It took a reluctance to confront hard truths, an unwillingness to engage racial injustice, a preference for comfort over justice, and the fear of facing one's own complicity. And it took silence.
Yes, we must hold our elected officials accountable. But we must also hold ourselves accountable—for our votes, our silence, and our comfort.
We are witnessing history. Don't be the one who, years from now, says, "I didn't know." You do know. We all know. Now, we must act.
And on this Fourth of July, I ask you: Who is truly free? Who gets to celebrate independence? So many of us are still not free—from racism, homophobia, transphobia, sexism, poverty, displacement, and fear.
That's why Juneteenth matters. That's why we must remember that Mexico outlawed slavery before the U.S. and welcomed many who escaped from Texas seeking freedom. That's why we must question what "freedom" means when it only applies to some.
If you celebrated today, I hope it was meaningful for you. If you struggled today, know this: my heart is with you. God is with you. And you are not alone.
I say all this not from a place of bitterness but from a place of deep love. I'm the son of a veteran who believed in the promise of this country. That promise feels broken, but I still believe it can be redeemed. That will only happen if we stop turning away from injustice and start confronting it together.
As your pastor, I will continue to preach the truth. I will not stop lifting up justice. And I pray you won't stop listening, speaking, and acting.
In Christ's justice and love,
Rev. Gilbert Martinez
Christ Church United Church of Christ
"Another world is possible—and we are called to help build it."