by Daniel Montañez, Ph.D. Candidate, Boston University School of Theology
The entry point into the Panamanian migrant reception station from the Darién Gap in Darién, Panamá.
“Cuando un extranjero resida con ustedes en su tierra, no lo maltratarán. El extranjero que resida con ustedes les será como uno nacido entre ustedes, y lo amarás como a ti mismo, porque ustedes fueron extranjeros en la tierra de Egipto. Yo soy el Señor su Dios.”[1]
Levíticos 19:33-34 (NBLH)
Spanish, English, Creole, and Arabic. These are just a few of the languages heard at the migrant reception station on the border of Darién, Panamá. A 70-mile stretch of impassible forest and rivers that divides the countries of Colombia and Panamá, the Darién Gap is one of the most dangerous crossing points for migrants in our world today. On November 6–12, 2024, a group of leaders from the network, Como Nacido Entre Nosotros,[2] traveled to the Darién for a first-hand account of this global humanitarian crisis from local pastors, government officials, and those in search of refuge.
The team consisted of twenty-five Christian leaders from New England to Patagonia, and was hosted by the Fundación de Asistencia a Migrantes, a Panamanian organization that provides assistance to the immediate needs of migrants and refugees. We met with evangelical coalitions such as the Alianza Evangélica de Panamá and catholic networks such as CLAMOR Panamá to learn how local leaders are responding to the presence of migrants and refugees at their border, and how to cooperate and meet their needs in a wholistic and healthy manner. Government officials were grateful to learn about how local churches were mobilizing to address the needs at the Darién, and doors were opened for mutual collaboration between the local churches and the Panamanian government.
Our team left early Saturday morning to travel down to the Darién Gap alongside leaders and youth from local Baptist churches in the region. We arrived near noon to the reception station and were met by over 200 migrants who had arrived from the rainforest hours before. The campgrounds were covered in tents and temporary wooden shelters, the roads were made of dirt and mud. We quickly organized and unloaded toiletries and medical equipment to begin providing whatever aid we could amidst the ordered chaos.
The children’s games and clothing donations were set up next to the toilets and showers, the conditions less than sanitary. The local churches played traditional songs from Venezuela, worship music, and shared a message of hope to anyone who listened. As the largest religious demographic among people on the move are Christian,[3] many participated in the worship and received prayer from the volunteers. The stories of their journey left many volunteers speechless.
As I walked along the campgrounds, I saw a young woman limping and being carried by another young man. Seeing the desperation in both of their faces, I ran over and asked if she needed help being carried. They both quickly said yes, and we carried her towards the medical tent. A nearby traveler took off his sandals and placed them on her feet and said he would get them back from her later. I introduced myself to them and learned their names were Darwin and Stephanie. In their mid-twenties and recently engaged, they decided to make the trip for a better life together.
“Somos nosotros contra el mundo,” Darwin said, “y nos cuidamos las espaldas unos a otros. No confiamos en nadie más que en nosotros mismos.”[4]
As we took off her shoe at the medical tent, her left foot was excessively swollen. On their journey through the forest, Stephanie had sprained her foot, and when they dismounted the boat several people had trampled over it. “Eran tan incivilizados,” Stephanie said with tears in her eyes, “no les importaba nadie más allí.”[5] I can only imagine the desperation those on the boat felt when they saw the reception center, and the misery they eagerly sought to leave behind.
The medical team requested an oversized pair of sandals so that Stephanie’s foot could heal. I asked if they needed anything else, and Darwin asked for a new pair of clothing, as the ones in their backpack were soiled from the dead bodies they trudged through in the river. Disturbed by what I heard, I tried not to flinch and did not ask any questions. I ran to get sandals and clothing for Darwin and Stephanie along with two water bottles, all the while asking myself, “is what I am doing enough?” Our interaction abruptly ended, as the needs of people continued to pile one after the other. Such is a day at the migrant reception center.
As I wrestle with the impact of the small acts our team made for those heading north, I also believe its significance is greater than I can imagine. A message of hope in the midst of inexplicable trauma and crisis. Sandals for a bruised heel, and new clothes for a fellow image bearer. A child’s smile as piñata candy falls, temporarily forgetting the world around them. We are not called to judge who is worthy of this care, we are called to show them the One who is worthy. For the message of the gospel is manifested in word and deed.
While migrants and refugees are never the first priority of any government, it is the people of God who should be on the frontlines and the answer to a world in need, wherever that may be. As many Christians today remain preoccupied with searching for Christ in halls of power and prestige, let us also remember the Savior from the borderlands of Galilee,[6] who stood with the suffering outside the gate,[7] and who lived to serve the least, the last, and the lost.
To treat the foreigner who resides among you “como nacido entre nosotros,”[8] is to welcome the heavenly migrant who pitched His tent among us,[9] and to entertain angels unaware.[10] Make no mistake, God’s presence is found in the Darién Gap. May we heed the call to love our neighbors as our own.
For more information about the network Como Nacido Entre Nosotros, visit www.comonacidoentrenosotros.org. Follow us on Facebook, Instagram, and Youtube for more content like this.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Daniel Montañez was born in Visalia, CA to a Mexican mother and a Puerto Rican father. He is a Ph.D. candidate at Boston University School of Theology in the area of theology, ethics, and philosophy. He is the director of Mygration Christian Conference, and serves as the the director of the Migration Crisis Initiative for the Church of God (Cleveland, TN). Daniel is dedicated to serving his Latino/a community at the intersection of ministry in the Church, the scholarship in the academy, and social engagement in the public square.
Footnotes:
[1] “When a foreigner resides with you in your land, you will not mistreat him. The foreigner who resides with you will be to you as one born among you, and you will love him as yourself, because you were foreigners in the land of Egypt. I am the Lord your God.” Leviticus 19:33-34
[2] Como Nacido Entre Nosotros is a network of “individuals, organizations, churches, and communities of the Americas that act inspired by the model of Jesus, to welcome, integrate, and defend migrants in human mobility and their rights.” www.comonacidoentrenosotros.org
[3] See Joseph Liu’s, “Faith On The Move—The Religious Affiliation of International Migrants,” Pew Research Center, https://www.pewresearch.org/religion/2012/03/08/religious-migration-exec/#defining.
[4] “It’s us against the world,” Darwin said, “and we watch each other’s backs and trust no one else except each other.”
[5] They were so uncivilized,” Stephanie said with tears in her eyes, “they didn’t care about anyone else there.”
[6] Virgilio Elizondo, Galilean Journey : The Mexican-American Promise. Rev. and Expanded ed. Maryknoll, N.Y: Orbis Books, 2000.
[7] Orlando E. Costas, Christ Outside the Gate: Mission beyond Christendom. Maryknoll, N.Y: Orbis Books, 1982.
[8] “As one born among us,” Leviticus 19:33.
[9] John 1:14
[10] Hebrews 13:2
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