It’s been a month of encountering entirely new challenges at the border. As a Mexican American who has spent my life living and serving at the border in El Paso, Texas and Juárez, Mexico, my inbox has been flooded with messages from friends, activists, and news outlets alike. They want my perspective, direction, and clarification of what is true amidst a constant frenzy of information. People are concerned and, understandably, looking for concrete action and advice as to whom they can trust.
I’ve received so many kind words, questions and requests. The desire for communication is palpable, and it’s been a struggle to keep up, particularly as I process my own emotions and continue the day-to-day work God has entrusted to me.
Wisdom in Noise
In sifting through the flood of messages and calls, I felt called to pause and reflect on my response. What am I seeing? Am I informed enough to give answers? Should I be reading more? How can I possibly keep up with all the news, commentaries and hot takes? Unsurprisingly, amidthe noise and chaos, I was hearing less from the people I am here to serve. My anxiety rose.
So I turned off the news. I sheltered myself in my home, the Church.
I was especially grateful for this decision as the inevitable questions started coming in, about Vice President Vance's criticism of the USCCB.
I made a conscious choice to step away from every sound bite and clickbait—the reels that instantly overwhelmed my feeds. I found comfort in the wisdom of the Church.
Wisdom as Daughter
A particular piece cut through the noise. In November 2010, Pope Benedict XVI addressed a general audience, reflecting on St. Catherine of Siena as an example of someone who corrected the Church’s hierarchy—not by attacking them, but as a loving, faithful daughter.
Why did this resonate so immediately? First and foremost, my identity is that of a daughter of God, a daughter of the Church. Before I am an activist, shelter director or a border native, I am a daughter. In Pope Benedict XVI’s address, he reflects on how Jesus called Saint Catherine to be the voice that spoke with emboldened clarity, not despite her femininity, but because of her role as daughter. Jesus addressed Catherine as, “dearest daughter” in prayer and spoke of replacing her heart with His own. In moments like this, I must seek to ground myself in that identity—como hija—a daughter of the Church, called to receive and care for others.
St. Catherine’s writings, particularly the Dialogue on Divine Providence, offer relevant insight for these times. She describes the mercy of Christ, who wishes "to converse with (His) creatures,” as a bridge between heaven and earth. Women, especially, are called to be these bridges of tender dialogue, offering connection, understanding, and care.
Wisdom in Action
As people ask for a list of action items and direction for service to those at the border, I am reminded of Pope Benedict’s description of St. Catherine as a “protagonist of intense activity.” I see this in my brothers and sisters at the border, who are engaged in intense, transformative activity, but not just for the sake of action, but rather, rooted in encounters that honor the dignity of each person they met.
So, what’s the action I ask for at the border? Dialogue.
We must find ways to engage in meaningful dialogue—dialogue that receives people with dignity and protects vulnerable families affected by this crisis.As Catholics, the responsibility to speak truthfully of and to our bishops, who are our pastors, is complementary to our call to justice. To all those who will stand before God and give an account of how they protected the “least” in their communities: this is our moment to act.
We are invited to become holy bridges of communication. We can organize information campaigns, host “know your rights” workshops, invite speakers, and create spaces for community discussion and involvement. We don’t need more rhetoric; we need familiarity with our communities. We need to engage and serve, finding ways to give of our own time, talent, and treasure.
In a culture that often devalues the vulnerable—whether in the womb or at the border—we can work to create a society that embraces the feminine genius. And as we cultivate tenderness, care and the capacity for deep listening within ourselves, we become like St. Catherine, able to share these gifts with those around us.
Wisdom in Reverence
The wisdom and actions of St. Catherine also stand in contrast to in the ways some have criticized the USCCB. She had great reverence for the bishops and Holy Father, even when she disagreed with them, “having a great reverence for them: through the sacraments and the Word that they dispensed.”
It’s disheartening to see current trends toward a spirit of criticism, which undermines our Church’s moral and spiritual leadership, particularly around migration. There’s an insidious danger in one-sided narratives that fuel anti-Catholic sentiment and lead us to mistrust the paternal and pastoral figures in the Church. In these times, the importance of that image—the Father, the Shepherd—is of great significance.
In the work we do at the border, our bishops are not merely pastors residing in ivory towers; they’re on the frontlines, providing much-needed aid through Works of Mercy. They’re serving those suffering, providing necessities: the grace of the sacraments and food and water.
We must remember our invitation to respond as St. Catherine did, with the voice of the daughter—the voice of tenderness, that of a daughter to a father. Despite her criticism, She referred to the Pope as “sweet Christ on earth.” This voice is necessary now, more than ever. It calls for dialogue that helps heal wounds and values the work of our pastors.
Wisdom Creating Shelter
As I reflect on the meaning of shelter, especially in this moment at the border, I see the Church, and by extension our pastors, as a sign and reflection of this protection.
Benedict XVI’s words resonate deeply: “We are hidden in the (silent) wounds of Christ.” In the deep cuts of divide on the border, Our bishops, like Christ, carry the suffering of the people with us. We must continue to support and protect them, and the Church’s work, through prayer, action, and dialogue.
St. Catherine of Siena, pray for us.
Karina Breceda is a Fronteriza activist focusing on pro-life migrant work. She is Co-Founder and director of Stellar Shelter and Casa Maris, shelters located on both sides of the US/MX international border that advocate as part of a consistent life ethic for pregnant women and children seeking refuge. Donate to her work here.