Across the border in Mexico

[mark alba escobar]

Across the border of Mexico

I did a mission work at Casa del Migrante in the border of Ciudad Juárez, México. It is where a lot of Mexicans, Salvadorians, Guatemalans, Hondurans, and Peruvians cross into the U.S. without fear and discover later that they cannot do so without any necessary documents.
There is a search fro meaning that explores the struggles and difficulties the migrant faces including the relationship between home and away. Of the many stories I’ve heard, their inner quest for something that would alleviate their sufferings was something I identified with the continuing exodus of peoples especially from the poor countries.

Our brothers and sisters are constantly on the move. Lured by the tales of prosperity and better opportunities abroad, they slip across the stretch of the U.S. border. Being a Scalabrinian missionary, it was my great concern to walk with these people with that growing awareness of the way the Holy Spirit leads me. It is an important task, though ensconced in our personal and collective life - that stands to reason being both servants and signs to them.

I encountered many stories and many of them, whether positive or negative gave me a sense of solidarity which binds us together in the bundle of life. It was something that unfolds the stirrings of their own spirituality through their open faces, sincerity, and smiles. These radiate a certain depth of insight into the human heart.

I was particularly drawn to embrace the challenge of responding to their search for a more human life and for God, amid the aura of doom and defeat they go through in their life. It was woven into a similar access of listening and flexibility.

I believed that our Christian spirituality is not quarantined within the structure of our community but is shared in the liberation of others. It is one that responds to life as Jesus did. In many circumstances, I engaged in listening to their stories which enables me to perceive something in terms of our mission. The question of where I belong was an indication that allows us to feel very much part of each other. It had an enormous influence on my relational ministry as a commitment to depth in my inward looking.

Perhaps our fast moving culture now has become more accentuated on isolation, rather than on terms of relationships. Individualism, the “me-society” or the idea of ‘mind your own business’ have become very strongly evident now in us. We no longer have time to listen, pay attention to those who are in need or simply be mindful of them. We have become selfish and prejudiced against our poor people.

I could still recall the story of Lazarus when Christ asked him to come out from the tomb and asked the people who were with him at that time to loose him and let him be. Shaped by the splits and divisions of the past, this call of Jesus to Lazarus to come forth seems to be like a call to each of us to come forth from our individual sepulchers of apathy and selfishness.

Actually, my heart was warmed by the friendly smiles and humble gestures of our migrants who come to our house every day. This provided me with the opportunity to grasp anew the meaning of “who is my neighbour?” It thus spoke to me of a larger dimension and reminded me that if today we are serious about sharing the Word of God, what is our equivalent of this experience in us that has relational overtones in great measure? This opened my third eye: the eye of the heart.

Entering into many lives in a spiritually best time is a commitment in deeper solidarity with the life and ministry of the church. Quite clearly, every time I bring the love of Christ to others by giving them a smile or greeting them ‘buenas tardes’ I could not help but yearn for something more than my own programmes and priorities. It explores certain parameters about that commitment we make to ministry as a commitment to love – the precious commodity we share with our brothers and sisters. This enabled me to understand the ministry of loving presence to others which is always a way of being, a personal initiative even in small things like this.

From a relatively dynamic ministry to migrants, deportees, gypsies and refugees in the border of México, I discovered that it was not by the numbers of those who may be interested to listen to us and heed our advice that we feel successful in our ministry, but rather it was in the ones who are encouraged and touched by our example and deeds. It was also part of my experience that our cultural differences occasioned by our temperaments, backgrounds, faith experiences, principles in life, and even our mood swings have given me an opportunity to discern which part of their life situations now needs strengthening, focusing, or encouragement. Their human experience was my starting point and gradually I took the steps appropriate to their needs.

While there have been a number of views regarding migrations and their pastoral implications, I am pretty sure that they all stand up in relationship and serve in raising consciousness about the rights and needs of migrants. My profound empathy with our people there who continue to slip across remote, unguarded borders reminds me that “thirty-three times the Torah commands us to love the stranger – a remarkable repetition, surpassed only in the Bible by the command to adore, love or revere God and God alone.”