BUTLER For now, 500 migrant families from Mexico and Central America have no choice but to wait it out, living in shacks made of tarps, blankets, and palettes in an encampment near Agua Prieta, a village in Mexico across from Arizona. They made it to the U.S.-Mexico border to pursue a better life only to be stopped from entering the U.S. or applying for legal status because of a ban by an agreement with the U.S., Canada, and Mexico in March 2020 amid COVID-19 concerns. Many of these desperate people have propped their huts against the tall border wall inches from the U.S. — a symbol of their American Dream deferred for now.
Early last year a group of Franciscan Friars, including Father Emmet Murphy who now lives at St. Anthony Friary in Butler, would often travel across the border to Agua Prieta, or “Dirty Water” in Spanish, to extend God’s welcome to these migrants as they waited — and continue to wait — in legal limbo for the U.S. to act. Journeying from Arizona, the Franciscans ministered at Frontera de Christo, or “Christ on the Border,” a social center that serves this destitute population, mostly families. The friars even looked the part, wearing their traditional brown Franciscan habits and sandals and yellow vests that declared them as “Hospitality.”
“These migrants traveled for months on foot, by bus, or by train to the border with nothing more than the clothes on their backs, which were filthy. They came to escape the poverty, bloodshed, unfair treatment by military governments, and the violence of the drug trade in their native countries, mainly from Mexico, Guatemala, and El Salvador, but also from the Congo and Russia,” said Father Murphy, 87, now retired. Starting in March last year, he spent 13 months missioning in southern Arizona and northernmost Mexico, including serving the social center. “The people are so appreciative of whatever we gave them: food, clothing, toiletries, and even a piece of chocolate. They would say, ‘Thank You’ or ‘Mucho Gracias’ in Spanish. It was humbling to see that our presence gave them comfort in the midst of the hopelessness of their lives at that moment,” he said.
The friars accompanied the migrants from their encampments to the center, wearing their “hospitality” vests to protect them from criminals of drug cartels or “coyotes,” people, who are paid to bring migrants across the border illegally. The cartels and “coyotes” snatch them from their huts and kidnap them — a persistent threat in migrant encampments at the border. There, the migrants endure often-brutal desert conditions — from 110-degree days to below-freezing nights — and live in cold-water huts in the shadow of the imposing U.S. border wall, Father Murphy said.
At the center, the friars assisted the staff in serving meals of tuna casserole, fruit, salad, and coffee; distributing items such as clothing and toys for the children; and keeping an eye on the children while they played outside on the playground. A partnership of Catholic, Presbyterian, and Quaker churches runs the facility, where the migrants also can receive medical attention, a shower, and spend time relaxing. The friars’ ministry to the center was cut short because of COVID-19 social restrictions — one of many outreaches they performed, while assigned there in the area, Father Murphy said.
“Our mission trip to the U.S.-Mexico border cut through the politics of the heated issue of immigration in the U.S. We were able to speak a little bit to these marginalized people who were joyful and smiling, despite their terrible circumstances,” said Father Murphy, who described his Spanish-speaking ability as “poor.”
In addition, the Franciscans helped a pro-migrant organization place jugs of water and packs of crackers on trails in Mexico for people who are traveling to the U.S. border. Often, migrants die of dehydration and malnutrition when they find themselves lost in the desert miles from nowhere. Each bottle displayed the date it was placed and a handwritten message in Spanish, such, as “There is hope.” Sadly, animals have chewed through some of the jugs, while some anti-migrant groups and individuals have sliced them open with knives or shot holes in them with bullets, Father Murphy said.
On an even sadder note, the friars helped to bury more than 400 migrants who died or were killed on their journey getting to the border or trying to cross it illegally. They then marked their graves with a simple wooden cross with the migrants’ names. For many burials, a Catholic deacon, who is an Apache Indian, conducted a rite using incense, eagle feathers, candles, conch shells, and a kerchief that displayed an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe, patron of Mexico, Father Murphy said.
The friars worked out of their home base: a small contemplative house in Elfrida, Ariz., — a “house of prayer and action.” There, they engaged in prayer, celebrated Mass, and lived simply without many distractions. Once a week, they distributed to the local poor 400 boxes of groceries donated by a food bank. In nearby Tucson, they joined a few protests for an end to homelessness, racial equality, and immigrants’ rights and volunteered at Poverello House, a day center, where homeless men, mostly Anglos, could shower, eat, and relax, the priest said.
Throughout his long ministry as a friar — as a lay brother for 30 years before being ordained a priest in 1986, Father Murphy conducted outreaches to immigrants in U.S. parishes and traveled to developing countries on mission trips. He served in a parish in Raleigh, N.C., that had significant American Indian and Mexican populations. In Guatemala, he lived with a family in a hut filled with mice in the jungle. Later in El Salvador, he served with Maryknoll missionaries ministering to people living in an oppressive military society, Father Murphy said.
“I have empathy for the migrants at the U.S.-Mexico border, because of my experiences with migrants and people in poor countries, understanding some of the struggles they face,” said Father Murphy, who previously served at St. Anthony Parish in Butler. Today at the friary, he drives infirm friars to doctor’s appointments. He also hears confessions and celebrates Masses when needed at local parishes and conducts 12-step retreats. “Most of the migrants at the border are Catholics who find strength in God and their prayer lives through their suffering. They also live lives of simplicity. They are an inspiration,” he said.