People Above Borders: Migration and the Future of the Church in Italy

It is a cold and sunny February morning in Rovigo, northern Italy, and EBF Commission on Migration members are taking a brisk breakfast walk along the Adigetto River. Around 90 years ago, Rovigo rerouted this tributary away from the centre in order to save the city from flooding. The old river route has become a broad and beautiful high street that weaves the same trajectory as the old river.

We are here to reflect on migration, but it feels a long way from the Mediterranean waters where thousands of people fleeing danger and seeking sanctuary arrive. Those who arrive are the lucky ones. Thousands of others continue to perish in the waters - victims of greedy smugglers, neo-colonial powers or the militarised EU border. Scenes that shocked and motivated a mass movement of welcome in 2015 seem to have been normalised. A common task is now often rebranded across Europe as a common threat, and a new EU migration pact pledges to ‘stop the boats’.

Yet we hear that in northern Italy, many migrants are welcomed, settle into jobs and build a new life. Italy needs people and workers as the birth rate is declining sharply, and many Italian young adults themselves are migrating elsewhere for work.

He explains that 27 of Italy’s 100 Baptist churches are migrant churches.

Our host, Nicola Laricchio, is the Secretary of the Department of International Churches of the Christian Evangelical Baptist Union of Italy (UCEBI). He explains that 27 of Italy’s 100 Baptist churches are migrant churches. With a quarter of their churches embracing multicultural church, Nicola has an important role in aiding integration and dialogue, alongside his part-time role as a local pastor of a multi-cultural congregation.

Today, migrant churches are welcoming Italians and aiding the mission and growth of the Baptist churches.

Alessia Passarelli is Chair of the Commission for Studies, Dialogue and Integration of the Federation of Protestant Churches in Italy. She tells us that churches need new people in their congregations, too. In recent times, there have been strategies between churches to help people move north and find work, knowing that if churches help them, they will, in return, help the local church. Previously, Italian churches welcomed migrants. Today, migrant churches are welcoming Italians and aiding the mission and growth of the Baptist churches.

Fabrice Noel Yoro is a member of the Executive Committee of the Italian Baptist Union (UCEBI) and represents a mission run by the Ivorian Baptist Churches in Italy. He tells us that second and third generation migrants are finding ways to blend their cultures and share their opinions of what will work for them and for the growth of the churches. Sometimes the clash between individualistic Western cultures and more communal approaches is evident, however the culture-blend in Italy has enabled these Côte d’Ivorian young people to gently challenge their elders and request space to try new strategies to grow the church. These new proposals have given the next generations space to develop and share faith and welcome Italians old and new.

The Adigetto River reminds me of all life. There are ebbs and flows. Water levels rise and fall depending on the weather and the environment. Water never stops. It always moves. Humans are 60% water, and like the rivers we move in relation to our surroundings, needs and experiences. Churches, like any civil institution, need to accommodate changes and share the task of welcoming the flows and enabling people to cohabit together.

The Mediterranean has been a watery web of sea roads for all time. As much as Frontex tries to resist this, it will never break these links. Like the silk of a spider’s web glistening in the morning dew, you may break a thread, but when you awake, a new one has been spun. So Italy is a blend of historical newcomers, and today, many everyday people are prioritising people above borders. We have seen this in Italy during this educational and inspirational visit, and we are thankful.

The lines we leave behind us on the oceans and rivers are visible for only a moment, and those whose breath is stolen beneath the Mediterranean surface are suddenly anonymised, except for family and friends who witness or yearn for news.

But here in Rovigo, the line of the old river is embedded and has birthed new journeys and new life. As we consider our local and united responses to migration, let us consider what we are leaving in our wake, whether visible or not.