The border as a place of encounter

Even over tamale squabbles, the body of Christ can be united

by Kathy Melvin | Presbyterian News Service

The Rev. Mark Adams and Miriam Maldonado (Contributed photo)

LOUISVILLE — The border is not just a physical place. When you open your heart to it, it’s a place of encounter.

That was the challenge offered to Zoom participants in a recent “Coffee and Conversations” webinar hosted by mission co-workers the Rev. Mark Adams and Miriam Maldonado, serving with Frontera de Cristo, a Presbyterian border ministry located in the sister cities of Agua Prieta, Mexico, and Douglas, Arizona.

They talked about their individual and collective experiences with life on the border.

Maldonado was born in the southern part of Mexico in the state of Chiapas, which shares a border with Guatemala. Her childhood memories of crossing the border into Guatemala were warm and welcoming. But when her family migrated to Agua Prieta in 1995 to find work, the border experience was a stark contrast from her childhood memories.

Her father took her to the border between Agua Prieta and Douglas. She was excited. When entering Guatemala there was a simple border and a greeting of welcome. They had to show credentials, but if they forgot their documentation, they could just sign their name. In Agua Prieta, she saw rows of barbed wire. One had to have a tourist visa to get into the U.S. The process was long and expensive.

Two years later, under the Clinton administration in 1997, construction was begun on what was called an aesthetic fence, the first steel barrier. Restrictions on travel were stepped up. People could no longer easily cross to visit family and friends, or to shop.

Maldonado remembers sharing a picnic with her family outside the city near the border fence.

“As we’re eating, some jackrabbits were crossing under the barbed wire on the border,” she said. “My youngest brother knew the fence was there to stop people without proper documentation. He said something impactful, something I still remember: ‘Why can the jackrabbits cross but I can’t?’ There was a lot of silence as we thought about that, and a lot of sadness.”

Adams also grew up along a border, a very different border than his wife did. His hometown, Clover, South Carolina, shares a border with Charlotte, North Carolina. He crossed the border regularly with no thought. It required no credentials. No permission was necessary.

In 1998 he journeyed to the U.S.-Mexico border. By then there was both an aesthetic fence and a steel landing-mat fence. The very first place he visited when he arrived in Agua Prieta was the home of his future in-laws, who had invited the entire neighborhood for a Bible study. He was married to Miriam for eight years before he learned that his father-in-law had spent six months of his salary and countless hours of paperwork to be able to visit the U.S. He was denied. When Mark’s father would visit, he would always ask Miriam’s father, “When are you coming to visit Clover?” His reply was, “Very soon.” It would never happen.

One July 4^, Mark’s father and nephews came to visit. His nephews were about the same age as Miriam’s younger brother. After playing soccer, they planned to travel to Bisbee, Arizona, to enjoy the parade and fireworks. The boys, of course, thought their friends would come along. But they didn’t have the necessary documentation to cross the border.

“My nephews said if they’re not going, we’re not going either,” said Adams. “We celebrated that Fourth of July in Mexico, and as we watched the fireworks it struck me: That day we celebrated a freedom much bigger than any country — the freedom to be family in Christ.”

Miriam’s father moved to Agua Prieta first. Miriam followed a year later to find work to help support the family. It was very important to them to find a community of faith and be part of a church family. He found a Presbyterian Church two blocks from their house, and Miriam joined the youth group. She was immediately enveloped by a hug from the pastor’s and a warm smile. It made her miss her own mother a little less.

Miriam soon discovered there was an uneasy peace in the church, caused by cultural differences between congregants from the north of Mexico and those from the south, where Miriam was born. The pastor had even thought about dividing the congregation. That seemed likely to happen when a baptism and a tamale dinner caused a rift in the church.

One Sunday morning following the baptism of a child, the family invited the entire congregation to celebrate with a tamale dinner. In northern Mexico (and in the U.S.), tamales are generally known as shredded beef and red chili cooked in a corn husk. In southern Mexico, however, tamales are wrapped in banana leaves with breading so fine it has the consistency of gelatin. Instead of beef, there is a whole piece of chicken with the bone, mole sauce and an olive. There were negative comments during the dinner, followed by lots of hurt feelings.

But instead of dividing the church, on the following Sunday the pastor centered his sermon on 1 Corinthians 12, which talks about different gifts within in the body of Christ. The following weekend, the church held a tamale festival, and everyone shared their food and recipes.

“The borders that exist and the differences between us do not have to be things that separate us. They can be things that bring us together,” said Adams. “Borders can be a place of restrictions, but they can also be a place of encounter. Our differences can lead us to be a community that seeks to be one.

“This is where we have formed our family,” he said. “Miriam migrated 2,000 miles from Chiapas to Agua Prieta. I traveled 2,000 miles from South Carolina.  God has united our lives on the border.”

The Rev. Mark Adams and Miriam Maldonado, mission co-workers, share stories of the border with supporters. (Photo by Kathy Melvin)

Before the pandemic, the couple hosted many visiting Presbyterian groups. They always ask visitors, “What does the border mean to you?” In one group, their young son responded by drawing a picture in the sand of a heart with a cross inside, surrounded by a circle.

“For him it meant family,” Adams said, “a community of faith that seeks to be together in our differences.”

Mark Adams and Miriam Maldonado serve with the Presbyterian Border Ministry in Agua Prieta, Mexico, where Mark has served since 1998 as U.S. coordinator of the binational ministry Frontera de Cristo. Miriam connects people and organizations across borders and serves as a liaison with the Center for Drug and Alcohol Rehabilitation Recuperation. She also assists schools and helps families of the church grow their own food, increasing their nutrition possibilities and connection with God’s Creation and one another.