A few weeks ago, I spent time at the El Paso, Texas and Juárez, Mexico border. Joined by colleagues from around the country who daily live and work with immigrants navigating an unjust and inhuman system, we took in familiar stories in an unfamiliar space. 

The El Paso/Juárez border, where two countries converge in what looks to be one megacity, holds so much history of crossing cultures, traditions, and familial ties. It’s jarring to see it divided by a wall with a 24-hour military presence. Yet people from both nations continue to move to the rhythms of their lives, timing when is a good day to cross, hoping to return safely back home at the end of the day. What I witnessed at the borderlands was resilience and determination to be connected despite powers beyond their control working to disconnect them, to declare them either one side or the other.

At this present moment at the border, crossing from Mexico into the US has nearly come to a halt. We learned that those trying to self-deport are being stopped at check points, often detained in new detention facilities designed to instill fear and drive up quotas for the federal government. These facilities seem to have no real purpose. Their massive construction, rich from taxpayer dollars, adds more and more detention beds that struggle to get filled. While there we learned about a newly constructed facility that has 5,000 beds. This center is struggling to be 30% filled, and yet another facility not far away boasting a 12,000 bed capacity, is under construction. At up to $167 per day, per bed–paid willingly to the private prison industry that builds and manages them–it seems like injustice is costing us not only grief but a lot of money.

In my immigrant community far away from the border, we also long for connection, integration, and justice, but it looks different. As a neighbor of immigrants, we are grieving ICE apprehensions with bold protest. Flashpoints converge where we live, in hopes that our joining together in solidarity to fight for the human and legal rights of immigrants is ever before us. Sometimes we experience an invisible wall of those who care about immigrants and those who don’t, right in our own hometown.

Living in our weary, unjust world, this season of Lent has seemed to be more heavy than usual. It’s easy to see disconnection, much like that at the El Paso/Juárez border. We are all moving about life trying to stay connected to the memories we hold, the culture we love, the people we call family and the sound mind that at times can seem elusive. Yet we persevere, all while navigating barriers and obstacles to the flourishing and goodness God designed for us all at creation. In our hearts, bidden or not, we long for God to send us peace; we long for justice.

The biblical word for peace is shalom. Shalom is much bigger than what we often associate peace to be: free from noise or even war. Shalom is the state that the world was created to be: connected, good, and in harmony with all things. I love how author and activist Lisa Sharon Harper describes shalom as “what the Kingdom of God looks like in context.”¹Lisa Sharon Harper, The Very Good Gospel: How Everything Wrong Can Be Made Right, 13-14. It is also what the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. cast as a vision of the beloved community when he said “True peace is not merely the absence of tension; it is the presence of justice.”²“Quotations,” Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial (NPS Gov website). Accessed February 28, 2022.

The presence of God’s justice is full reconciliation, where tension and disconnection are no longer present. God promises to deliver his people from injustice, to be a refuge and sure stronghold that brings us to a place where everything is restored and nothing is broken. This Spirit-directed restorative work defies human abilities yet is an invitation for those of us who want to see His peace activated in the world. As Jesus teaches in the Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6),
“May your Kingdom come, may your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

In Colossians 1:19-23 we are reminded that God’s fullness dwells in Christ and through him all things are reconciled in the resurrected Christ, “by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.” We too are a part of those all things as are all the points of disconnection in our world that are seen and unseen. Through Jesus, the Prince of Peace, we are connected and invited to join His redemptive, restorative, re-connecting work. We are invited to seek peace and pursue it. In our striving toward this restored Kingdom of God in context, we need to choose to stop violating each other’s dignity and instead work toward forgiveness, healing, and transformation. 

Quite candidly, this is really difficult for me.

It’s a challenge to find the Imago Dei in those who I feel at odds with, most specifically leaders in our country who hold contempt for my immigrant neighbors. Yet, I am reminded and humbled when I think of the apostle Paul’s words to the church at Ephesus. Ephesus, a large port city renowned for its wealth and paganism, had to be a hard place to be a Christian. Instead of grumbling and speaking ill, in Ephesians 4, Paul admonishes the growing faith community to use their words to build others up, to be in step with the Holy Spirit and to get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger. Instead, they are told to be kind and compassionate to one another, forgive each other, just as Christ forgave them.

This ancient text, when looked at in its context, comes into view today with some very strong parallels that are really hard! I am challenged as a peacemaker and bridge-builder that I cannot celebrate a risen Christ for my own individual forgiveness and redemption and not bring it to enemies also. As Christ followers, we are all instructed to bring peace, which includes forgiveness.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu was an South African Anglican cleric who was the Archbishop of Cape Town in the late 1980’s. During his tenure, the South African anti-apartheid activist and leader Nelson Mandela was released from prison. In 1990 he and Mandela began to work together toward a multi-racial democracy and to bring an end to South African apartheid. Four years later Mendela became the first democratically elected president of South Africa, promptly naming Tutu the chairman of The Truth & Reconciliation Commission. Archbishop Tutu models a present day example of a just and holistic path to peace for all, through real forgiveness.³Michelle Ferrigno Warren. Excerpts from Join the Resistance: Step into the Good Work of Kingdom Justice, 168-170. Tutu writes: “Forgiveness opens the door to peace between people and opens the space for peace within each person. The victim cannot have peace without forgiving. The perpetrator will not have genuine peace while unforgiven.”⁴Desmond Tutu, The Book of Forgiving, 25.

Peace is holistic. Jesus, our Prince of Peace, brought hope, healing and restoration to our disconnected world. He invites us to join Him in reconnection and apart from forgiving an oppressor, true peace will never be. 

As we conclude this Lenten season and walk through Holy Week toward deep Easter joy, may this be our prayer:

Lord, we want to see your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Please merciful, forgiving God, help us to be more like you. Thank you for inviting us into your restorative, peacebuilding work. Help us to be quick to offer forgiveness, to embrace each other’s dignity and to be agents of healing. We long for your kingdom of peace to reign on the earth. Let that peace begin with us. Amen.

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*Editorial Note: Michelle Ferrigno Warren has been an ally of Missio Alliance for many years, and an advocate for deep, holistic justice and advocacy work for even longer. An adaptation of this piece appeared previously in her recent devotional series, Strength to Endure: A Join the Resistance Devotional. Michelle is the author of two incredible books, The Power of Proximity, and Join the Resistance. Both are game changers. ~CK