Over the past five years, the Rev. Brian Strassburger, a Jesuit priest, has witnessed and engaged with the evolving humanitarian crisis at the U.S.-Mexico border, transitioning from ministering to large groups of asylum-seekers in overcrowded shelters to providing spiritual care for detained and deported migrants. Despite the significant changes in border crossings over this period, his dedication to serving migrants and embodying the Christian message of accompaniment and hope has remained steadfast.
Strassburger’s work is based in the Rio Grande Valley in Texas, where he leads the Del Camino Jesuit Border Ministries. This ministry, composed of three Jesuit priests, has been active since 2021, offering Mass and other sacraments to migrants on both sides of the border. At the height of the migration surge in earlier years, thousands of people sought refuge in makeshift shelters, often sleeping in tents or crowded indoor spaces. These migrants crossed the border in record numbers—whether illegally or through legal humanitarian channels—seeking safety and a better life.
Between May 2023 and January 2025, nearly 2.5 million people crossed the border, a figure influenced by shifting U.S. policies. In May 2023, the Biden administration ended COVID-19 restrictions that had limited asylum claims, leading to an increase in crossings. This period culminated in January 2025 when President Donald Trump declared a national emergency at the border during his second term, signaling a renewed emphasis on immigration enforcement.
During these turbulent times, Strassburger was present in shelters, such as those in McAllen, Texas, and Reynosa, Mexico, where thousands of migrants lived under difficult conditions. He vividly recalls a moment at a shelter run by Catholic nuns when the Trump administration abruptly canceled all border appointments that asylum-seekers had scheduled through an app. After celebrating Mass, Strassburger asked the migrants how they were coping with the devastating news. Many expressed fear, despair, and a sense of betrayal, yet one woman, Sandra, stood out by declaring, “The last thing we lose is hope.” Her faith, she explained, was not in government systems or technology but in the Lord, a hope that endures even amid hardship. This encounter reinforced Strassburger’s own commitment to his ministry, reminding him that hope remains a powerful force for those who suffer.
Strassburger’s path to the priesthood and border ministry was shaped by a combination of personal reflection and unexpected opportunities rather than a predetermined plan. Raised in Colorado by Catholic parents, he initially aspired to be a father, math teacher, and basketball coach at a Jesuit high school, similar to the one he attended. His sense of vocation deepened during his college years while volunteering with the Augustinians, where he ministered to AIDS patients in South Africa. This experience sparked a reconsideration of priesthood—not as a burdensome obligation but as a fulfilling way to live his faith and serve others.
In 2011, Strassburger entered the Jesuit novitiate. Five years later, despite not knowing Spanish, he was assigned to Nicaragua, where he spent over two years immersing himself in the language and culture. Upon returning to the United States, he worked at the Kino Border Initiative in the border cities of Nogales, Arizona, and Nogales, Mexico. This experience solidified his commitment to border ministry, recognizing the need for bilingual pastoral care and the opportunity to act as a bridge between diverse communities.
After his ordination, Strassburger was tasked with establishing a Jesuit presence in the Rio Grande Valley, an area at the literal margins of the country and a focal point of migration challenges. Following the guidance of the local bishop to “read the reality and respond to it,” he and a fellow Jesuit identified a critical need for pastoral accompaniment of migrants. Their efforts have since focused on providing spiritual support not only in shelters but also in detention centers on the Texas side of the border.
One such detention center is located in Matamoros, Mexico, where deported migrants are held. Many of these individuals have spent decades in the United States before their deportation, often leaving behind families and lives deeply rooted in American communities. Strassburger recounts the story of a woman with six U.S.-citizen children, ages six to nineteen, who was arrested after 29 years in the country during an immigration court check-in just before Christmas. Grappling with the consequences of her detention, she