A New Perspective ~ Milana Lutes

When I left for this trip, I had one definition of borders, shaped by years of living in a country that has been slowly building ours with fear and hatred: uninviting, hostile, shut off. When we first drove up to the U.S.-Mexico border, the view I had did nothing but confirm this. Thirty feet of steel bars covered with metal mesh, topped with terrifying razor wire, guarded by an ever-watching Border Patrol vehicle. I wasn’t surprised, but seeing it in person was chilling. However, as impenetrable as the wall seemed, we still gathered around, shared in the Bible with new friends across it, prayed across, spoke hopes and dreams across it. One of the members of Frontera de Cristo shared with us that to her, borders were a place of encounter—holy and hopeful. I had never thought of them that way. And so, the night ended with a little more hope than before.

The next day, we spent the morning walking along the border on the Mexico side. It was a bright and warm day, and as we approached the wall, it was an entirely different sight than I had expected. Whereas the U.S. side had been empty, the Mexico side was full of people: on bikes, driving in cars, walking and weaving through the traffic. Whereas the U.S. side was dull and foreboding, the Mexico side was vibrant, the rust colored steel posts painted with murals that depicted friendship, migration, and community. One mural that grabbed my attention was that of two women—one with brown skin, the other with white—lifting up the sun together. This depiction of unity and light, defiantly painted on the surface of a wall with the sole purpose of division, felt powerful and inspiring. Where the U.S. side pushed people out, the Mexican side of the wall felt like it was inviting people in. Seeing it allowed me to think of the border wall in a new way: not just a demonstration of human fault and cruelty, but an invitation for God to show how God’s love expands beyond man-made barriers. It is a wall-breaking, earth-shaking kind of love. There were many ways in which this border-crossing love was present throughout our trip: in the vines that grew over razor wire; in the tree trunks pushed up against the steel from where monsoons had once overpowered the wall; in the people of Frontera de Cristo, who had found so many ways to connect across the divide.

When the trip neared its end and it was time to drive over the border one last time, the resolution I left with was to find ways to share God’s defiant, border-breaking love in my own community, so that I can pass on the hope that I have found. I hope sharing this with you all will be a good start.

Milana Lutes (she/her) is a sophomore studying English and religious studies.

Photo: Some members of the BWAP team observing the murals on the Mexico side of the border wall.