There are neighbors everywhere: Learning to see at the Texas-Mexico border

By Rev. Dr. David Rice, BJC Digital Strategist

The last thing I expected to encounter in Mexico was Little Caesars pizza. Yet there I was, standing in the lobby of a grocery store in Reynosa while our pastor-host placed an order for 25 pizzas. We then drove them over to an asylum camp where families and individuals wait in legal limbo at the United States border. Serving low-budget American pizza to people in Mexico from Central and South America was not what I expected when I agreed to travel to the border, but the world does not adhere to our expectations or the narratives we’ve been taught. 

I spent several days in McAllen, Texas, in September with a group of pastors through the J29 Coalition, hosted by Border Perspectives, an organization that educates people of faith around the issues impacting the U.S.-Mexico border. Much of the border conversation is dominated by politicians and commentators who have never walked across the river or looked someone in the eye as they share their story. Our purpose was to learn and to see the situation for ourselves. What we found was not an issue to manage, but people to learn from. I kept hearing the question asked of Jesus: Who is my neighbor? (Luke 10:29)

We crossed into Reynosa to visit the camp where those pizzas were headed. Several years ago, thousands waited here as they fled untenable conditions in their home countries. Today, barely a hundred remain. Their numbers did not fall because danger disappeared. They fell because, under an executive order issued in January, the United States is not processing new asylum claims. International law requires it. Scripture commands people of faith to care for the vulnerable. Yet the door is locked.

People in the camp spoke of impossible situations that brought them there. They came openly and legally to request asylum. They arrived only to discover that the road ahead was blocked.

Many spoke about God with a mix of faith and exhaustion. I wondered why so many Christians in the United States see migrants as a threat rather than neighbors in need. Hearing their testimonies made me ask myself how to respond. I was reminded of the prophets who warned God’s people not to ignore the stranger at the gate. And I remembered Jesus’ simple and straightforward command: Whatever you do for the least among you, you do for me. (Matthew 25:40)

Back in Texas, we met with U.S. Customs and Border Protection agents in a public library. The officers were nothing like the caricatures in national debates. They were people who cared about their work and the lives they encountered. One officer spoke about her hope for a pathway to citizenship for those simply trying to survive by contributing to our economy and society, the same opportunity her grandfather had during the Reagan administration.

The officers spoke of trying to keep criminals out while caring for people who cross the border without permission because they have nowhere else to go. They also told us about cartel networks that prey on desperate families.

Then came a moment I will not forget. The agents showed us a slickly produced video portraying the border as a battlefield. The narrator referred to immigrants as the enemy. Images of cartel smugglers and asylum seekers blurred together until they became one faceless threat. The message was fear. It revealed our national confusion about how to distinguish those fleeing evil from those causing it. This confusion is not simply political. It is spiritual.

Driving around McAllen, I noticed how much ordinary life flows across the border. Homemade tacos in Texas. A Burger King drive-through in Mexico. Families living in Mexico because it is more affordable, working in Texas because wages are higher. These are not two separate worlds. This is one community divided only by shifting water and a lack of imagination.

Fear is easier to sell than empathy. But when you get close, the story becomes human. Most people want what everyone wants: Safety. Work. A future for their children. You see that cartel violence is real, but so is the courage of those who refuse to let fear have the final word. You begin to see neighbors everywhere.

I wish every pastor who preaches in a congregation could spend time at the border. Sit with families waiting for hearings that may never come. Listen to officers trying to serve with integrity. Stand still long enough to hear God speak. The border will always be with us. The question is, how will we respond: with fear or with love? The choice is not even between laws and compassion — we can have compassionate laws if we’re willing to work toward that end.

God invites us into the messy middle, where answers are hard and neighbors are real. May we learn to see people not as threats, but as neighbors, wherever we go.

The Rev. Dr. David Rice is BJC’s digital strategist.

This column originally appeared in the winter 2025 edition of Report from the Capital. You can view it as a PDF or read a digital flip-through edition.