First Wednesday of Advent

Gospel: Mt 15:29-37

I am no stranger to waiting. Growing up as undocumented in the US, I've been waiting 25 years to have rights in this country, for the right to vote, to feel safe, to be here. I've been in anticipation for the U.S. to see my humanity. Advent is supposed to be a time of hopeful anticipation, of waiting for the birth of new hope to deliver us liberation. 

But it's hard to feel hopeful at times like these, when my people, undocumented people, are awaiting the threats of mass deportation. I think about the journey that a pregnant Mary undertook, traveling through the darkness seeking a safe place to give birth. How did she feel? I put myself in her shoes: Walking through unknown towns, asking for the kindness of strangers, the feeling of being alone in a strange land. 

This is often how my people feel in the U.S - waiting for things to be welcomed into a new place. I want Advent to be a time of waiting for hope and joy. But did Mary feel this way? I was taught to believe that it was the waiting that was hard for Mary, and then Jesus was born and there was “joy to the world”. But I can imagine Mary’s fear of being in a new land and all the sudden having to care for a fragile newborn! What kept her going? Perhaps it was the knowing in her heart that she was doing what needed to be done. She was doing God’s work in the most intimate, physically daunting way. 

I work with undocumented people who are fighting to organize their communities. Many of them literally traversed through the desert while crossing the border, and then arrived at a new land asking for mercy. They work hard everyday doing construction, working in the fields, cleaning houses, and then they come home and hop on a zoom organizing meeting to fight to win back driver's licenses in our state of Michigan. What keeps them going? 

I imagine it’s similar to Mary, it is the knowing in our heart that we are doing the hard work of liberation. We keep going because sometimes we have to, but mostly because the other option is to give up. We cannot give up, we’re tasked with the sacred task of fighting, even if sometimes the fighting means waiting in anticipation. We fight because we know that we’re fighting for what is just, what is right, and what we deserve.

Maria Ibarra-Frayre is a 2024 Re/Gen cohort member.