Being a foreigner is not just a legal or geographical condition. It is also a human experience that almost all of us, in one way or another, have experienced at least once.
We feel like strangers every time we enter a context whose codes we do not know: a new country, a new workplace, a school, a retirement home, a social group or even a family that is not ours. We can feel like foreigners even when the new generations use languages and references that are incomprehensible to us, or when we discover that the society we thought we belonged to has changed in a direction that we no longer recognize. Each of us knows what it means to feel out of place: a common experience that can help us put ourselves in each other's shoes.
The history of humanity has always been a history of encounters between cultures. If on the one hand migrations have generated conflicts and difficulties, on the other they have favored exchanges, mutual enrichment and the profound transformation of societies. For this reason we can look at the migration phenomenon not only as an emergency, but as an opportunity to renew the entire human family. In short, they invite us to leave our securities to meet others.
The real challenge lies in experiencing this change of era with a gaze capable of grasping the seeds of hope that migrations bring with them, transforming hospitality into a space in which to build fraternity.
We can start with small gestures. Actions that may seem insignificant, but which, joining those of many others, form a silent and concrete chain, capable of becoming a "bank against barbarism".
This is how Chiara Lubich expressed herself in one of her last public speeches, in London, in June 2004: «[…] our experience tells us that, for those who today are preparing to move the mountains of hatred and violence, the task is enormous. But what is impossible for millions of isolated and divided men, seems to become possible for people who have made mutual love, mutual understanding, unity, the essential motive of their lives."
When we live like this, dialogue can become a true culture of encounter, in which everyone's diversity ceases to be a barrier and becomes a gift for the common good.
As testimony to this, a Swiss parish priest tells the "lessons" learned living in a reception center for migrants. On the one hand, the awareness of how racism is latent in each of us; on the other, the extraordinary transformative power that arises from the encounter: «Just one example: here, in Lucerne, a young man from Rwanda lived with us for three years. He had no documents and, when he arrived, he was very psychologically damaged. The first period was not easy. But over time his original personality began to shine again and our multi-faceted community also blossomed into an even more beautiful life. How much we laughed, celebrated, prayed and overcame uncertainties and great challenges together! We have become brothers. This was seen in particular on the day of the reluctant departure of this Rwandan brother of ours. Four policemen came to pick him up at our house to forcibly take him back to his country. They were very surprised to come across ten people from different nations, who were there to greet him, and to find a serene atmosphere in this difficult situation. (…). Five years have passed and the deep family bond that has been created between us is still alive, from one continent to another."[1]