We need to learn the language of closeness, which is understood more with hands than with words ...
While Pope Francis was in the Canary Islands at a center that works for the integration of migrants, he spoke of the mutual responsibility faced on both sides. His invitation came from within a "city without walls."
"I was struck by what has been said about this city: It is without walls, an open city," he said.
Perhaps this detail helps us to understand that the barriers that are the hardest to break down are not always made of stone. Sometimes they lie in our attitudes, in fear or in indifference. The sea which surrounds these islands brings us stories that we do not always know how to interpret: stories of pain, of hope and of searching. In a city without walls, the heart too is called to open wide to welcome those who bring these stories with them. That is why we need to learn the language of closeness, which is understood more with hands than with words.
The challenge of integration implies a "reciprocal journey," the Pope said. Migrants themselves have a "noble and necessary" part in it.
Below is that section of the Pope's address. The full text can be read here.
Integration does not mean erasing the history of those who arrive or demanding that they leave behind everything that is part of their memory. Nor does it mean creating parallel worlds, closed off from one another, where people live side by side without truly encountering one another. Integration is a reciprocal journey: those who arrive learn to inhabit a new land, and those who welcome them learn to expand their own homes without diluting their identity or closing their hearts to the encounter. To you, dear migrant brothers and sisters, a noble and necessary part of this journey belongs: to open yourselves with trust to the community that welcomes you, to learn its language, to respect its laws, to get to know its customs, to participate in communal life and to offer your gifts with gratitude.
Every welcoming society has responsibilities toward those who arrive, and those who are welcomed also discover that dignity, recognized as a right, flourishes when it becomes a duty and a sincere desire to build together with others. In this way, those who arrived as strangers can rediscover bonds, rebuild trust and feel like a living part of a community. This is a precious form of mercy.
We are speaking, above all, of people created in the image and likeness of God, rather than of legal categories or problems to be managed. After difficult journeys and, at times, several attempts — as in Khalid’s case — they look for someone to tell them through actions rather than with words: your life is not a waste; your suffering is not invisible; your dignity has not been washed away in the waters you have crossed — as Mbacke told us. Yet they are also looking for something more: a concrete possibility to start over, to learn, work, serve, participate and not to remain forever trapped in the role of victims.
