ACROSS THE LINES - Archive (2006-2020)

These pieces - video (4 min) ,  slideshow, story -  were produced by United Methodist Communications and so do a little denominational cheerleading, but they also do an excellent job capturing the reality of separated families on the U.S.-Mexico border.  For my part, I'll be back at Friendship Park on Sunday, January 6 for EL FARO: The Border Church / La Iglesia Fronteriza . Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you and yours.  John Fanestil

When I was ordained as a pastor in the United Methodist Church twenty years ago, I did not imagine in my wildest dreams that it would come to this.  But there I was last Sunday, a 50 year-old man (OK, 51), running almost two miles in slacks and dress shoes so as not to miss out on a commitment I had made to serve communion.   The whole enterprise that we call El Faro - The Border Church / La Iglesia Fronteriza , is in many ways preposterous, even ridiculous. Sometimes when I am talking through the fence at Friendship Park to someone standing in Mexico, and I explain what we are doing - trying to gather as a church in two nations, through a high-security fence - I can almost hear them thinking, " Tonto gringo ." Silly gringo.  ("Silly" is a nice way of putting it.)  If ever there was a Sunday that I felt silly it was this past Sunday, as I panted my way across the two miles to Friendship Park with the communion elements in my backpack.  I appreciate that such a biz

Each year at Christmastime, all across Latin America , people gather to observe a tradition called las posadas.   The word posada means “lodging” or "inn" and in the ritual people re-enact the search of Mary and Joseph for a place to stay on the night of Jesus’ birth.   One group of people sings the part of Joseph, pidiendo posada – “asking for a place to stay.”   Others sing the part of the casero or “innkeeper,” at first refusing to offer refuge.   The tune is simple and easy to sing once you learn it: JOSEPH: In the name of Heaven / I beg you for lodging / For my beloved wife / She cannot walk. JOSE: En nombre del cielo / Les pido posada / Pues no puede andar / Mi esposa amada. INNKEEPER: This is not an inn / So just keep going / I cannot open / You may be bad people CASERO: Aqui no es meson /  Sigan adelante / Yo no puedo abrir / No sea algun tunante.   In most parts of Latin America the participants in las posadas process from home to home through th

The line to get back into  the United States was unusually long last Sunday.  I had traveled to Tijuana to serve communion at El Faro: The Border Church .   At church I made two new friends and together we grabbed a quick cab ride back to the border crossing.   I groaned when I first caught sight of the line, and I told my friends that we could be looking at two or maybe even three hours.    But our good conversation made the time go fast, and the pedestrian crossing at the U.S. Port of Entry was fully staffed for a change, so in fact our wait was just an hour and a half.   Waiting is a funny thing.  The emotions that waiting conjures are not proportional to the time - or at least not precisely.  A host of things can come into play to make the waiting excruciating, on the one hand, or relatively painless, on the other.   Over one hundrend thousand people cross the border between San Diego and Tijuana each day  - it is the busiest land border crossing in the world - and the

Last week's gathering at Friendship Park took place under the distant cloud of unfolding war in the Middle East.  People living along the U.S.-Mexico border share a peculiar solidarity with people living in Israel and Palestine - a solidarity born from living in a part of the world where national boundaries correspond very poorly to the geographical and demographic "facts on the ground" and where the land has been marred by the construction of massive, high-tech "security infrastructure" - or if you, prefer, "walls."  Israel-Palestine US-Mexico But, as is always the case at the Border Church, we found cause for celebration even in the midst of difficult times. The day before our friends from the Bi-National Garden at Friendship Park participated in a grassroots celebration of non-violence that is taking place across the nation of Mexico. Palas por Pistolas (Shovels for Pistols) is a project to curb the trade of small weapons.  In a first

This past Sunday, when I arrived at El Faro in Playas de Tijuana, my friend and colleague Saul Montiel was all alone on the U.S. side of the fence.  The first rains of the year have flooded the vehicle road inside Border Field, which means that people wanting to get to Friendship Park will have to undertake a 30-minute hike.  Until the road dries out next spring, only the determined will be able to join us at The Border Church / La Iglesia Fronteriza . In Tijuana, where I was accompanied by a group of friends, I wondered what we should do.  In my tradition the ritual of communion is meant to remind us that that we are receivers, not givers, of God's grace, and so it is somewhat improper for anyone to serve themselves the sacrament.  This is why we customarily receive the bread and juice from someone else, rather than "from our own hand."  I wondered what Saul would do when it came time for communion. Our gathering in Tijuana included several children, so I asked them

I am looking forward to being on the Mexican side of the fence for The Border Church this Sunday.  The Mexican side of the border is so full of life - on most Sunday afternoons people from all across Tijuana come out to Playas de Tijuana for a day at the beach .     But on the U.S. side the architects of "homeland security" have systematically stripped the borderlands of almost every sign of life.   This contrast struck me powerfully last weekend when I was on the U.S. side of the fence.  Mexicans had been celebrating El Día de los Muertos and someone had created a work of art on the southern side of the border fence.  They had embroidered their display with flowers, but on the U.S. side only the stems of the flowers were visible. The sight was a stark reminder, it seemed to me, of the lifelessness that the U.S. government has tried to impose on the borderlands: The next day my friend Maria Teresa Fernandez circulated photos from the Mexican side of the fence,

I will forever remember last week's celebration of communion at Friendship Park for a very simple reason- the blowing of bubbles across the border. I brought bubbles because I knew there would be children in attendance and I figured bubbles could float across the border without violating the new rules at Friendship Park which forbid the passing of material across the international boundary. Border Patrol officials tell us that drugs and other contraband have been passed through the fence at Friendship Park, and I do not doubt that this is the case.  What I can attest from my hundreds of hours at this location is that instances of this kind of illegal activity were extremely rare in the days when Friendship Park was truly open to the public and were easily controlled by routine Border Patrol supervision of the park.  Still, the new rules at Friendship Park are very clear and no material  - not sandwiches or tamales, not chicle  (chewing gum) or pulseras (bracelets) , and certain

This Sunday at 11 am I will meet with my friend and colleague, Rev. Saul Montiel, in the parking lot of an auto insurance company in San Ysidro, the southernmost city of San Diego County. There we will break a loaf of bread in half and split a bottle of grape juice into two containers. I will then take half the bread and half the juice to Tijuana and Saul will take the other half of each to Friendship Park , San Diego's historic bi-national meeting place on the U.S.-Mexico border. At 1:30 pm we will consecrate the elements and serve communion to people in both nations. We have taken to calling our gathering " El Faro: The Border Church / La Iglesia Fronteriza " because "el faro" means "the lighthouse" and Friendship Park sits in the shadow of Tijuana's lighthouse, a famous landmark overlooking the Pacific Ocean.   The reason communion must now be served on both sides of the border fence (instead of through the border fence, as used to be t