ACROSS THE LINES - Archive (2006-2020)

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