In these days, once again our nation turns its eyes toward the border. Emotions run high. Accusations fly freely. Cries for compassion echo from many quarters – including from within the Church herself. These conversations are necessary. But they must be rooted in truth. For compassion without truth is not charity; it is sentiment divorced from justice.
The Church must always be a mother – never a manager. She must always love – never exploit. She must always speak – never remain silent when souls are endangered.
The Church is called by Christ to welcome the stranger, to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, and to care for the vulnerable. These are not optional works of mercy; they flow from the Gospel itself. At the same time, the Church is also bound to uphold justice, order, and the common good. These are not opposing principles. They are inseparable.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches clearly that political authorities have the right and the duty to regulate migration in service of the common good. Nations may establish borders. Laws may be enforced. Order may be preserved. This teaching does not contradict compassion – it safeguards it. When law collapses, the innocent suffer first.
We must be honest about what has occurred in recent years. When borders cease to function, when enforcement is undermined, and when accountability is abandoned, evil rushes in to fill the vacuum. Drug cartels flourish. Human traffickers thrive. Children are exploited. Women are sold. Men are enslaved. What presents itself as “compassion” on paper often becomes cruelty in practice.
We now know that hundreds of thousands of unaccompanied minors were brought into this country through systems that could not – or would not – track them. Many were lost. Many were exploited. Some were forced into labor. Others into sexual slavery. This is not a failure of enforcement alone. It is a moral catastrophe.
And it demands an examination of conscience – including within the Church.
It must be said plainly and without evasion: when Church institutions become financially entangled with government programs, when large contracts replace personal charity, when ministries depend on state funding to the point of silence, the prophetic voice of the Church is weakened. The Church must never profit – in money, influence, or prestige – from the suffering of others.
Our Lord warned us: “You cannot serve God and mammon” (Matthew 6:24). This warning applies with particular force when serving the poor. Charity that is compromised by financial dependence loses its freedom to speak the truth. Mercy administered without accountability becomes permission for exploitation.
Some within the Church have been quick to condemn border enforcement while remaining silent about trafficking, cartel violence, and the mass disappearance of children. This imbalance wounds the Body of Christ. True compassion does not turn a blind eye to victims of crime, to communities devastated by drugs, or to children sold by the very networks that profit from chaos. To ignore these victims is not mercy; it is abandonment.
At the same time, we must speak clearly against cruelty, hatred, and indifference. Every human person – regardless of legal status – is made in the image of God. Migrants are not statistics. They are sons and daughters of the Father. Any enforcement that forgets this truth betrays the Gospel. The Church must always insist on humane treatment, respect for dignity, and protection for the vulnerable.
But dignity does not require disorder. Compassion does not require lawlessness. Mercy does not demand the suspension of truth.
When borders are rightly ordered, when laws are justly enforced, when corruption is resisted, the most vulnerable are protected – not punished. Children are rescued instead of trafficked. Families are safeguarded instead of preyed upon. Communities are preserved rather than destroyed.
This is why the work of those who labor to dismantle trafficking networks and rescue exploited children must be acknowledged and supported. Law enforcement, when acting justly and humanely, is not the enemy of mercy; in many cases, it is its last defense.
The Church must recover clarity. She must recover courage. She must repent where she has been silent, complicit, or confused. She must resist the temptation to become merely another NGO. Our mission is not to administer systems, but to proclaim Jesus Christ. Not to manage suffering, but to confront the causes of it.
The saints remind us that mercy and truth cannot be separated. St. John Paul II taught that there is no peace without justice, and no justice without forgiveness. But forgiveness does not erase responsibility, and justice does not negate mercy. They walk together – or not at all.
Let us welcome the stranger – but let us also defend the weak against the wolves that hunt them. Let us build a border where mercy flows – but also where justice stands guard. Let us love without compromise, serve without corruption, and speak without fear.
In this hour of confusion, may the Church in America renew her witness to the Gospel of Life. May she remember that every work of mercy must begin and end in Christ. And may Our Lady of Guadalupe, Mother of the Americas, wrap her mantle around every wounded soul at the border, and all who labor for justice, and all who seek to protect the least among us – especially the child. And may she lead us always to her Son, who is Truth and Mercy Incarnate.
And may the Lord Jesus Christ – the Truth who sets us free and the Good Shepherd who lays down His life for the sheep – bring light to places long darkened by exploitation and fear. And may He grant protection to every child endangered by the sins of men.
And now, entrusting all that has been said to the mercy and justice of Almighty God, I ask the Lord to heal what has been broken, to expose what has been hidden, to protect the innocent, and to convert every heart – including our own.
May Almighty God bless you, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.
Bishop Joseph E. Strickland
