On Christmas Eve, I had the blessing of visiting shelters for immigrants and refugees in communities on both sides of the United States-Mexico border — Reynosa, Tamaulipas, Mexico; and McAllen, Texas.
Reynosa is one of the biggest border cities with a population of 697,500 in the 2020 census. It’s the “last stop” where immigrants wait before entering the United States. The city has become extremely dangerous, filled with corruption and danger for immigrants. At any given time, there can be between 600 and 3,000 immigrants waiting to cross.
There are many stories of taxi drivers kidnapping immigrants in Reynosa. Instead of taking them from the airport or the bus station to the border crossing, they extort them in every possible way. Family members have to come up with exorbitant sums, as much as $7,000, to secure the release their loved ones.
I am no stranger to sin, considering myself to be your above average sinner. But I cannot comprehend this kind of evil. Taking advantage of people when they are most vulnerable — exploiting them, taking their money, sometimes raping and even killing them. It’s very dark.
A U.S. government smartphone app called CPB One allowed asylum-seekers to request a time and a date to cross into the United States through one of the portals. Every person trying to cross legally went on the app at 6 a.m. to request an appointment. I am told that within 30 seconds all the slots were taken. Try again tomorrow.
As long and uncertain as that process could be, at least it offered a glimmer hope. After his inauguration, President Donald Trump shut down the app and all pending appointments were canceled, leaving the asylum-seekers without that pathway to the United States.
Talking with people at the shelters in Reynosa on the last day of Advent gave me a deep experience of waiting. We believe that waiting is at the heart of Advent. These folks had been waiting, sometimes for months, for a date to cross the border. Now they don’t have even that distant opportunity. I don’t think I have it in me to wait like that.
I concelebrated Mass at one of the shelters in Reynosa, called Senda Dos, and at the Humanitarian Respite Center in McAllen, founded by Sister Norma Pimentel, MJ, Notre Dame’s 2018 Laetare Medal recipient.
Mass is the Mass no matter where it is celebrated. But there was a big difference between the Mass at Senda Dos in Reynosa and at the Humanitarian Respite Center in McAllen.
Same readings, same hymns, same homily. What was the big difference? The immigrants in Reynosa were still waiting to cross. Fear and uncertainty emanated from their faces and their very beings. They could not hide their fear of the great unknown.
When the waiting becomes unbearable, many swim across the Rio Grande. Most are sent right back to Mexico, though asylum-seekers from certain countries where the U.S. recognizes real danger, such as Venezuela, may receive permission to stay. Others allowed entry after crossing the river include families with children under 18.
On the U.S. side, immigrants at the Humanitarian Respite Center do not have much more certainty. They might still be deported. Their asylum case most likely will not be granted. But they have crossed the border, and feel a great sense of relief and hope for what is to come. They have a deep sense of gratitude for having arrived. That gratitude is so obvious when I see them pray in front of the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe at the shelter.
I certainly have not met every immigrant who has crossed into the United States. But in 16 visits to the Humanitarian Respite Center over the past six years, I have met and spoken with hundreds who are hospitable, grateful, kind, lovely, holy.
This is why the rhetoric that immigrants are criminals and rapists and drug addicts makes me furious. Are there some immigrants who are criminals and rapists and drug addicts? I’m sure that there are. They are not many. To paint all immigrants as evil is fake news and sinful.
I have said this before and I will say it again. As a nation, I believe that we have lost our way. The people who can help us find our way back to hospitality and goodness and kindness are immigrants. We are deporting rather than welcoming the very people that God is sending to help us find out way back to being the country that we were founded to be. “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free . . .”
May God help us to become this country again.
Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.
Father Joe Corpora is associate director of the Transformational Leaders Program. He is a priest-in-residence at Dillon Hall and one of 700 priests whom Pope Francis appointed in 2016 to serve as Missionaries of Mercy. His most recent book about this latter experience is Doing Mercy: A Path to Contemplation.