A collection of heart cries from siblings all throughout the Americas for justice and hospitality in journeys of (im)migration. Woven together by Elena De La Paz for Mygration Christian Conference 2025.
O Migrant God,
We lament that the migrant journey is strategically made dangerous by the politics of the powerful as they weaponize the deserts, the jungles, and the seas to inflict suffering and suffocate human life.
We lament the militarization of borders that make the desert and jungle quite impossible to survive, the land desecrated, as it is forced to swallow up decaying bodies that should still have breath in them.
We lament that even after enduring such loss and terror on the journey, and finally arriving in a new land with hopes and dreams for flourishing, terror still comes…
We lament that terror comes by way of violent ICE raids in the middle of the night in Chicago, ripping men, women, and children from their beds, half naked, terrified.
We lament that terror comes by way of inhumane imprisonment at Alligator Alcatraz and the erasure of hundreds of names from the ice detainee locator, disappearing hundreds of people.
We lament that terror comes by way of lies and manipulation as 238 men only accused of gang association were sent not back to their country, Venezuela, but to a terrorism confinement center in El Salvador where they endured mistreatment and torture.
We lament that black and brown bodies are violently targeted for speaking a language unaccepted by the empire.
We lament the ways people are violently torn from their cars, their homes, the streets, and the halls just outside the courtroom as they attempt to follow legal processes.
We lament that families and communities are being torn apart by the systems our country has constructed.
O God of justice, our Migrant God, where are you?
Hear the cries of those who know terror just as well, if not better, than they know their own breath.
O God of justice, our Migrant God,
Open the ears of your Church to hear these cries of our siblings, that we might learn to wail alongside those who are wailing.
O God of justice, our Migrant God,
Stir our hearts that we might move swiftly with our feet, putting our hands to work to protest, defend, protect, advocate, and care for one another, especially those most vulnerable to the suffocating grip of empire.
O God of justice, our Migrant God,
Bind us together in love. Help us to see ourselves in our neighbor, recognizing ourselves and one another as worthy, treasured, valued, and loved.
O God of justice, our Migrant God,
In a time such as this, shape our imaginations around table fellowship — whether it is sharing a meal in shelters and bus terminals along migrant routes, or in our homes and our neighbors’ homes.
O God of justice, our Migrant God,
Teach us to continue caring for our children as they laugh and play, to teenager alongside teenagers, to listen to the stories of our elders, and embrace moments of joy and dance and music and community.
May we still live all our ordinary moments juntos y juntas, even in the midst of chaos.
O God of justice, our Migrant God,
Be for us our sustenance, and teach us to hold and sustain one another too.
We will place our hope and trust in you as we follow you, our Rabbi covered in dust, who came and pitched his tent among us.
Amen.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Elena De La Paz was born and raised in Colorado and moved to Washington to study Spanish Language & Literature and Peace Studies. After being deeply formed by Latin American theologies of liberation and living alongside the migrant and incarcerated communities in Central America throughout the last three years, she recently moved to North Carolina and is pursuing her Master of Divinity. She is passionate about storytelling that challenges the “othering” of people, aiming to reveal our shared humanity. Elena seeks to create and share in spaces of hospitality, generosity, and solidarity across cultures, races, and languages.
Note: Artwork by Kelly Latimore, La Sagrada Familia, https://kellylatimoreicons.com/pages/gallery
