When Pope Francis was elected in 2013, the church and the world were in for many surprises. His first actions and gestures would speak volumes about his values, vision, and understanding of God's mission. In his humility, solidarity, and magnanimity, he paid his own bills, ate meals with common workers, and visited those in prisons. As he began articulating God's universal care for all, he showed his concern for the vulnerable and marginalized, especially those excluded from the centres of power, privilege, and opportunity--those from the margins. Beyond these initial, highly symbolic gestures, his travel itinerary also revealed much about his mission priorities and pastoral perspective. His first journey outside the Vatican was not to Washington, Geneva, London, Beijing, or other centre of political, economic, and cultural power. Instead he chose to visit a small island off the coast of southern Italy named Lampedusa, where thousands of refugees have perished in their dangerous sea crossing in search for better lives. For most of the world, this was an unknown, isolated, and insignificant territory. But to Pope Francis it would be the land from which he would speak about the message of the reign of God, a message that addressed directly the degrading and dehumanizing conditions that result in poverty, exploitation, and injustice. Pope Francis chose to go to Lampedusa because the tragic deaths of these migrants and refugees reached him like a "thorn in the heart." He went there to "make a gesture of closeness," "to challenge our consciences," and to pray for the thousands who have lost their lives after migrating from countries like Eritrea, Somalia, Egypt, Gambia, Mali, Pakistan, and other countries. (2) During his visit he celebrated a eucharist liturgy, and in addition to speaking through words, actions, and rituals, the symbols of the liturgy magnified the depth and importance of his message. Before mass began outside in the open air, he threw a wreath into the sea in memory of the many migrants who had drowned in these waters. A ship's wheel was placed at the lectern, and the cross, chalice, and altar were carved from refugee boats. During the homily, he contrasted the heart of God's mercy with our own heartlessness in the face of human suffering: Has any one of us wept because of this situation and others like it? Has any one of us grieved for the death of these brothers and sisters? Has any one of us wept for these persons who were on the [refugee] boat? For the young mothers carrying their babies? For these men [sic] who were looking for a means of supporting their families? We are a society which has forgotten how to weep, how to experience compassion--"suffering with" others: the globalization of indifference has taken from us the ability to weep! (3) Lampedusa, sadly enough, is not an isolated instance but rather a highly symbolic representation of a larger global phenomenon. Today there are more than 232 million international migrants in the world, making migration one of the defining issues of modern times. (4) In 2012 approximately 45 million migrants were forcibly uprooted, including 15.4 million refugees, 29 million internally displaced persons, and 2.4 million trafficked persons. (5) In 2010 alone 42 million were displaced by natural disasters. (6) By every estimate, these numbers will increase significantly in the coming years. They will continue to cross borders like those between Afghanistan and Iraq, Syria and Turkey, Bulgaria and Greece, Burma and Thailand, Democratic Republic of Congo and Zambia, Zimbabwe and South Africa, Mexico and the United States, and many others. Some of the most vulnerable people in the process are women and children, who bear much of the burden of the world's economic, social, and political disorders. (7) In this essay I would like to examine gender injustice and the issue of international migration in ways that expand on Pope Francis's liturgy at Lampedusa by looking at this "globalization of difference" and the challenges of conversion. …
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