On the other side of the fence

Growing up on the border in Brownsville with family on the other side of the Rio Grande River in Matamoros, Tamaulipas, Mexico, I was accustomed to life on both sides. We traveled back and forth without worry. I say “without worry” because as a child I did not realize the barriers some of my aunts and uncles faced when crossing to the U.S. side. One of my uncles drowned in his last attempt.

Where we stand, where we are at any given moment informs our perspective.  Two experiences in February during the Holy Father’s visit to Mexico, both pure gift, enriched my perspective in new ways. One, the Mass in Mexico City on Feb. 13 at the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe, helped me reflect on the gift of waiting. The other, with a view of the Mass in Ciudad Juarez from across the border in El Paso, Texas on Feb. 17, gave me a new perspective on the immigrant experience.

In Mexico City, Sister Norma Pimentel and I waited 11 hours before for the Mass with Pope Francis. Entry began at 6 a.m. for the 5 p.m. Mass, so we woke before sunrise, gobbled a portion of a prepacked lunch before going through security and then finding our seats inside the basilica dedicated to Our Lady of Guadalupe.

As we sat there, we knew it was Nuestra Virgencita who brought us to this point. Arriving early gave us time to gaze at her image on San Juan Diego’s tilma framed behind the altar, just as the Holy Father would do later after the Mass. Naturally, he had a private viewing, but we were content to sit before her in the pews.

I discovered as I sat there the gift of waiting. Sometimes waiting can feel like a burden, but in the light of the Basilica, I saw it as an opportunity. Waiting forced me to pause from my tendency to rush from one project to the next; it gave me time to pray, especially for the intentions of family and friends. One senses the responsibility of being entrusted with such personal prayer requests, and I did not want to fail in this responsibility. Waiting also gave me time to thank God for the blessings of the moment.

Our days are not built around waiting. So much is designed to rush us through from one experience to the next. But what a gift when we remain stationary in readiness or expectation. What a gift to have 11 hours to prepare for Mass.

Four days later, we were in El Paso on the levee across from Ciudad Juarez along with two of our sisters who work with immigrants in the colonia of Peñitas, Sister Carolyn Kosub and Sister Fatima Santiago, Missionary Sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

In Mexico City, we sat inside the basilica with a clear view to the altar and to the Holy Father. The story changed in El Paso. While more than 200,000 attended the Mass with Pope Francis in Juarez, we were among some 400 guests hosted by the Diocese of El Paso and Catholic Extension on the levee. Among the guests were the pope’s “VIPs,” immigrants, refugees and people who assist them.

Hours before the Mass, the experience started to shift my view. The immigrant experience came into focus during our half-mile walk up to the levee as Homeland Security checked our green wristbands to make sure we belonged in the group. We walked without water on a dirt path along the fence with signs indicating the international boundary and “DO NOT TRESPASS.” Ours was a short walk and water was waiting for us at the end. What must the journey feel like for those who walk countless miles and face an uncertain path in their quest for a better life? Will we be there to offer them water?

On the border between Mexico and the United States, two nations joined in prayer, but on this day we were the outsiders looking toward what lay beyond our reach.  We could see the Mass about 100 yards away, but our view was blocked. However, it was just as moving to see the pope through the fence and participate in the Mass.

Crowds on both sides of the river welcomed the pope’s arrival before the Mass with chants of enthusiasm and watched as he walked up the partial bridge leading from Mexico into the United States. Organizers said the Holy Father originally wanted to cross the border, but the logistics dictated otherwise.

Near the edge of the bridge that stopped midpoint, the pope placed flowers near a giant memorial cross and prayed for those who have died along the Mexican-U.S. border. Tears flowed from many who had been waiting hours to witness the Holy Father come to the border.

Throughout the event, Homeland Security and Border Patrol agents maintained a visible presence along the fence. Some made reference to a “militarized zone” we were in at the levee, but that did not deter our focus on the historical moment. Peace reigned on in El Paso and throughout Juarez. As Sister Norma said after Mass, the pope’s presence leaves us with love and joy and we must continue doing the right thing.

One thing was clear. While we strained to hear Pope Francis’ homily from where we sat, his message of helping those in need and ensuring everyone’s human dignity reached us on the other side of the frontera. Faith has no borders. We were two nations joined in prayer.

(Originally published in March 2016 edition of The Valley Catholic newspaper)