“The Ministry of Presence” ~ Shaniya Auxier

A few years ago now, I saw a clip of Shia Labeouf reflecting on what was most meaningful for him while recovering in a rehabilitation facility. He described what it felt like and what it meant to have someone show up, to have someone see him, to have someone be there (for him) in a way not many others were. He spoke with such candor, emotion-laden, about what it means to just…show up. To be present for someone. To see them.

On Tuesday at 5:15PM CST, we enacted a vigil. Distinct from the vigils we commonly envision, with people standing still while burning flames and sharing communal sorrow, this was active. Finding our spot, just a few blocks ahead of one of the U.S.-Mexico border points of entry, we carried about 260 white crosses (approx. 1’x1.5’). Each cross bore the name of a migrant that had died in the desert in Cochise County on their journey to the U.S. Some were labeled, “No Identificada.” There are over 600 of these crosses. Also etched on the crosses, if known, are the birth dates of the migrants and the date their body was discovered.

Standing in the busy, bumper-to-bumper road leading to the border crossing checkpoint, we faced north. When it was your turn, you loudly proclaimed the name of the fallen person and presented them to the world. Holding the cross high above your head, for all the people and skies to see, everyone in the vigil shouted, “PRESENTE!” You stood there, holding their cross up, until it was your turn to lay their cross to rest, gently propped against the curb of the sidewalk, and picked up another cross. We stopped when we ran out of crosses for that night, just across the street from the border station.

“Incinerated” is the feeling word I reflected to the group during debrief that night. Face wet and body numb, I remember doing everything I could to pull my wits together enough to shout another being’s name into the space between remembrance and distance. We so often distance ourselves from acknowledging, hoping it will protect us from the visceral pain of knowing. I remember looking at the sky, mind fighting achingly to pull us away from a truth so heavy and toward a balance that allowed me to show up in our moment of seeing.

I think Shia’s framing of showing up—“the ministry of presence”—hit me so hard because of the way it echoes the biblical idea of being a witness. The impact of walking alongside someone amidst whatever struggle they’re going through seems obvious, but what often lies unspoken is the magnitude it carries. The relational acts of witnessing and being witnessed are ministry: seeing each other along our respective journeys; walking with each other in the light, the dark, and the shadowed; intentionally showing up and staying. What powerful acts of encountering each other, ourselves, and God. May we continue to go forth being called to and blessed by the ministry of presence.

Shaniya Auxier (she/her) is a second-year PhD student in the counseling psychology department.

Photo: The BWAP team participating in Frontera de Cristo’s weekly vigil.