Welcoming the Stranger

Last weekend, I had the humble privilege to travel down to Tijuana, Mexico as a listener and learner in efforts to better understanding the current immigration situation and the plight of the migrant caravan.

This trip was put on my the Global Immersion Project (https://globalimmerse.org/), an absolutely amazing organization that is doing the incredible work of bringing people in the Church together to learn and be trained on how to properly understand the issues in other countries, learning how to be non-violent peacemakers, and working to bring humanitarian issues into the light in a way that calls both our churches and our governments to respond and act towards the goal of restoration and reconciliation. There is no place better for this mission to be realized than at the southern border of the United States.

When we first entered into Tijuana after crossing the border into Mexico early Saturday morning, we immediately reached a massive canal that runs parallel to the border wall (pictured below). It is also the location where about 2 week ago countless women and children were tear-gassed by U.S. border patrol as they ran desperately to a place they hoped would offer them asylum, sanctuary, and provide safety for their families. Instead, we fired tear gas at them in a posture that I believe was not only wrong, but sinful. They were treated like wild animals instead of human beings desperately seeking our aid. This canal is also the location of what used to be a displacement "tent village", where thousands of displaced people (both Mexican and also from other central American countries), many of whom America deported (and literally DUMPED) back into Mexico, had to reside because they had nowhere to go and no one (family, friends, contacts) to take them in.

Tijuana is actually a very generous city that does a whole lot to shelter people the best they can, but there is only so much they can do and so many people they can take in. I thought and reflected about the people who had been dropped here by this canal, and how this would be no different than if I fled my home in California with my children and sought refuge in Mexico out of fear for our lives, then being deported back to the U.S. and tossed back into a random city and state with no connection to that area and no family to reach out to. What would I do and how would I feel?

A few years ago, this same displacement village along the canal was literally wiped out and the people were "relocated", though many of them have never been seen or heard from again. Human beings, in an act that didn't make the headlines, were literally erased.

Once we connected with the group of 150 people participating in this all-day learning event, we then traveled from one side of Tijuana to the other on the way to the church where we would spend much of the day. While at the church, we were exposed to and heard from countless people, immigration advocates, migrants who had traveled from as far as Nicaragua, Honduras, and even Haiti. They told us powerful stories about the migrant journey, the realities of the immigrant plight, the harsh truths about America's role in displacing people all over Central and South America, and later in the day we learned about the ways in which we as the Christian Church can respond, interact, and partner in the journey towards change and reconciliation, but also in allowing ourselves to remain in the present state of pain and lament.

One particular story we heard was from a mother and her daughter who had arrived in Mexico late last summer after fleeing El Salvador because it had become increasingly violent and dangerous, and her daughter had even been kidnapped for 3 days at one point before being recovered by the mother. They were both still very visibly shaken and traumatized by what they had escaped, and the reality that they would most likely never been granted either Mexican or U.S. citizenship (after previous failed attempts). They have nothing in possessions and nothing but pain, violence, and fear of death to return to in their home country. What is our role in these stories? First, we have to acknowledge that we played a part in displacing them. Countries like El Salvador, Honduras, and Nicaragua have brutal dictators that America (under both Democratic and Republican leadership), have supported and funded over decades because of various vested business interests in their countries. This has led and caused much of the political and economic unrest in these countries that have pushed families out and forced them to flee for their very lives.

In addition to hearing these realities, there were other important things I learned on this trip that I would never have known before taking part in this experience:

Why people are fleeing: The violence in El Salvador has resulted from 2 decades of instability that the U.S. has played a role in supporting due to business interests. Additionally, mass deportations back into El Salvador created more instability and unrest. In Honduras, U.S. agencies (under President Obama) helped the people overthrow a regime in part because they had invested in cheaper gas in Venezuela than in the U.S. businesses previously in partnership with. This caused a dictator to gain power, and unrest and violence increased. In Guatemala and Honduras, the current dictators continue to have support from U.S. backed interests.
Asylum seeking is 100% legal in America. The catch, however, is that those seeking asylum must actually step foot on American soil to claim asylum. The U.S. is now making this very hard to do, and one of the ways we complicate this is by allowing only 100 (or less) people per day to approach the port of entry (100 out of 10,000+). Asylum seekers can also claim asylum at any point along the border, not just ports of entry. But when they've approached recently, they've been met with tear gas.
78% of the migrant caravan will never be granted asylum (and some not even in Mexico), many of whom are women and children that have nowhere else to go.
The 10,000+ migrant caravan came through Tijuana specifically because it is safer and there are less drug cartel.
7 in 10 girls/women in the caravan won't even reach the border before being abducted, many of whom are then sold into sex trafficking.
Over 90% of immigrants in the U.S. that have "illegal status" in America are a result of overstays on visas, NOT "jumping the border wall" or "pouring into our country". The other reality? Over half of these people with "illegal" status are from Asian countries, not south of the border.
The U.S. recently invested $100,000,000 to build a half-mile piece of wall on a filled-in valley in Tijuana at the border to build a secondary wall around an already sturdy and stable wall that is already in place. We're literally building walls around our walls. There are some places where the wall is 3-4 walls deep. It's a sad metaphor you can actually feel when you're there.
There are currently extremely wealthy U.S. residents living illegally in Tijuana that are driving local people out by raising the cost of living, but they still cross back into America to work and make their money in the U.S., contributing nothing to Mexico's economy. Ironic, huh?

More than any of these sobering statistics, the reality is that these people are as human as you and I, and as favored and loved by God as you and I. God is not only on the northern side of the border. He is present and active on the south side as well.

At the end of the day on Saturday, we traveled to the edge of the southern border wall near the ocean to celebrate Las Posadas. This is a Mexican traditional holiday that celebrates the migrant journey of Mary and Joseph, the original migrants, on their journey to find a place to stay in Bethlehem, ultimately ending up in a stable after being turned away from every inn and home they sought refuge in. This celebration was led by local clergy from Tijuana. Part of the ceremony included reading aloud the names of people (including children) who have died trying to reach the border. After every name, we would reply "presente" (which means "present") as a way of acknowledge that they are still with us in our thoughts and hearts. There were prayers and Christmas songs sang, and we concluded with a call a response. The part that brought me to tears? We on the southern side in Tijuana would sing the first part, and then a group of people gathered on the other side of the wall in America sang back to us the response. It was a beautiful image of the Church united and a wall that felt more like a prison cell as I pressed myself against it to look to the other side (on most years of this event, the people on the northern side can literally link hands through the wall and sing and pray hand-in-hand. Unfortunately, due to some counter protesters on the beach, we were separated by a few hundred feet as precaution. Another sad image to behold.

After the ceremony, it turned into a big party. A mariachi band played while kids ate cake and locals handed out free tamales and sweet rice drinks. There were balloons, the wall had been painted with murals and words of remembrance and hope, and I could just feel the spirit of God among us.

Right before we left, I leaned up against the brightly colored wall and stared back onto the beach in San Diego where the counter protestors stood waving flags of hate. Tears welled up in my eyes as I said to myself, "You're so close, but you're so far away. Come a little further. Step on this side of the wall. Meet these people you fear and misunderstand. See the vibrancy of their lives and hear their stories." We aren't that different, and we all want to belong. The wall that I could see and touch in front of me, for whatever purpose so many people may feel is justified, felt cold and... evil. It felt like a prison cell wrapped around a free country.

Some of you reading this probably have a variety of reactions to all that I'm saying here. 'What now? How do we respond? What can we do? What should we do?'

So much of this issue has become politically charged, and I genuinely don't think there's an easy answer. It's a complicated mess. But here is what we can all agree on as a starting place:

The people of Mexico and the migrant caravan are God's children. He loves them. He is near them and with them. He died for them. He calls us to love them and commune with them.
Jesus and his parents experienced the earthly plight of the immigrant. They fled to Egypt as refugees when Herod was seeking to kill Jesus. Jesus was an immigrant.
We can only understand another person's experience by allowing ourselves to see them, to hear their stories, and to expose ourselves to their realities. To do this, we have to give up our positions of privilege when necessary, and use that position as leverage.
There has to be a humane way to have laws and regulations while allowing people dignity, a chance at safety and hope, and a way to belong.

Ask yourself this question- If tomorrow immigration reform happened and all those seeking asylum were granted a legal pathway to U.S. citizenship, came to our country, lived and worked among us, and were given every right that you have I have to freedom, would that be enough? Or would you appose this? If so, what is the reason you still feel this way? Is it possible there are walls built up in your heart that are rooted in something more nefarious?

And what are some practical, should-be bi-partisan ways to address the current situation? Here are a few:

Contact your representatives in government and ask them to commit to accepting 300 or more aslyum-seekers per day at every port of entry along the U.S. border.
Request that our government increase asylum-seeking and refugee programs that aim to help these families.
Push our leaders to pass laws that replace unnecessary military patrols along the border and replace them with immigration agencies, lawyers, and other support systems to help people process into our country legally.
Demand that our leaders work in a bi-partisan fashion to pass comprehensive immigration reform. (There is currently a bill on the table that has strong bi-partisan support)
Work as local church communities to find people in our own communities affected by the current immigration situation. Invest in them, listen to their stories, and expose ourselves to their realities. Share a meal with them. Invite them into our homes.
Find out if our home churches have a Mexican church that we can partner with. Stand with them in solidarity. Let them lead.
Bring people from your church to a future Global Immersion Experience Trip to Tijuana. -> https://globalimmerse.org/immersion-trips/san-diegotijuana/

I am praying that what I saw on Saturday is not only just a moment, but the start of a movement. Where can we be in 5 years? In 10 years? How can the Church better respond to these crises and get involved in bringing about sustainable solutions? What walls inside of my own heart can I start to tear down? Who am I shutting out and who am I not able to see hidden behind these walls? How can I "welcome the stranger among us" as Christ urges us to do in His very word?

Let us pray that all of us as believers would choose to stand with (and not in the way) of the Gospel.

Wouldn't it be crazy if when Christ returns, instead of coming in on a cloud or a white horse, He strolls in on a donkey as part of a forgotten migrant caravan?

He's already done it once.