“The only good thing about borders are the secret crossings.”
Once we have our borders as clean and obvious as we can make them, we find Manuel Rivas’s “secret crossings.”
In secret crossings, people who are forcibly kept separated by walls and guns and passport control are able to make connections totally unexpected.
The borders—the imaginary lines where one group rubs up against another group—offer opportunity for transformation.
I think of Susan, leading yoga at the Lebanon/Syria border, being imitated by guards who had guns bigger than Susan herself.
I think of the car at the Syria/Lebanon border that bore a West Virginia Wesleyan College bumper sticker.
I think of the little boys selling nuts outside of our bus; the extent of our English/Arabic communication was playing the hand-slapping game.
We find connections in disconnected people. What is familiar to us—including our faith—is hidden within the unfamiliar.