NATION NOW

Churches increasingly feel need to offer sanctuary to undocumented migrants

Holly Meyer

The Tennessean

Jeanette Vizguerra of Denver poses with three of her U.S. citizen children — Zury, Luna and Roberto — in the doorway of the First Unitarian Society of Denver where she has taken sanctuary. Vizguerra, an undocumented immigrant, was worried that a regular meeting with U.S. immigration officials would result in her deportation.

A woman from Mexico who entered the United States illegally feared a meeting with immigration officials would end in her deportation.

So she skipped it and turned to a place she knew would provide her safe haven — the First Unitarian Society of Denver.

When Jeanette Vizguerra moved into the Colorado church last week, the community activist and mother of three young children who are U.S. citizens quickly captured national headlines, shining a spotlight on the growing sanctuary church movement in the midst of the Trump administration's immigration crackdown.

More than 100 people rallied Saturday in Denver in support of Vizguerra. Standing at the church’s front entrance, she draped herself in an American flag.

"I belong here," she declared in Spanish as the crowd roared and chanted its support.

Like the Unitarian congregation, other faith communities across the USA have signed on to the growing sanctuary movement, agreeing to shield undocumented immigrants from deportation. The tactic is rooted in religious teachings to care for the vulnerable.

“We forget that many people feel they must act even if they don’t want to or are afraid to,” said Charles Haynes, the vice president of the Newseum Institute’s Religious Freedom Center. “They feel that the highest authority in their lives is not the state; it’s not the ICE. It’s their conscience, their God.”

But not all congregations support the movement nor think it's appropriate to go against the federal government. One Tennessee congregation is opting not to become a sanctuary church for those very reasons. And the issue could become more pronounced in the months ahead.

The Department of Homeland Security issued memos Tuesday that put in place President Trump’s increased immigration enforcement plan, making deportation a real possibility for the majority of the country’s 11 million undocumented immigrants.

Those convicted of crimes are the highest priority, but the memos direct agents to arrest and initiate deportation proceedings for anyone they encounter who is in the country illegally. Those granted deportation protections under the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals Program are not affected.

Leaders with the sanctuary movement believe a 2011 policy that former President Obama set protects their houses of worship from Immigration and Customs Enforcement raids. That policy limits ICE actions at so-called “sensitive locations,” including churches, hospitals and schools.

As of Tuesday, the policy was still in place, ICE officials told The Arizona Republic. But the agency official could not speculate on future changes.

The idea of providing sanctuary dates back centuries and is referenced in the Old Testament. But the modern-day movement in the United States began in the 1980s.

The Rev. Alison Harrington of Tucson's Southside Presbyterian Church said her congregation was one of the first to pioneer it, offering protection to refugees fleeing civil war in Central America. In the 1980s the church housed thousands of migrants but only for short periods before they were resettled across the nation.

“It worked more like an underground railroad,” she said.

In August 2014, Rosa Imelda Robles Loreto took sanctuary in Southside Presbyterian Church in Tucson. She had received an order for deportation after her illegal immigration status was discovered during a traffic stop in 2010.

Since then, the movement has evolved. Although the Obama administration’s immigration policy drove interest, a national network of sanctuary congregations — including Baha’i, Buddhist, Christian and Jewish congregations — saw a spike after Trump's election in November, said the Rev. Noel Andersen, the national grassroots organizer for Church World Service.

Before Trump’s victory, the national network hovered around 400 congregations willing to offer sanctuary, Andersen said. That number jumped to more than 800 in 45 states post election and is continuing to tick up.

Still, that number is far less than 1% of the what the Hartford Institute for Religion Research estimates are about 350,000 religious congregations in the United States.

“The faith community feels that within our broader communities our job is to be working with and ministering to vulnerable communities in our midst," Andersen said.

Though the Nashville First Church of the Nazarene in Tennessee has a recent history of welcoming refugees and immigrants into its congregations, it won’t be offering sanctuary, said the Rev. Kevin Ulmet, the church’s senior pastor.

“We would not be comfortable doing so," Ulmet said. "But we would certainly want to continue our feet-on-the-ground ministry to immigrants and refugees.”

Among the concerns of church members are violating federal policy nor potentially going against local zoning laws that might prohibit someone from living in a church, Ulmet said. Other issues may arise from protecting someone with outstanding arrest warrants or a serious criminal history.

On the other side of Nashville, Edgehill United Methodist Church, a congregation with a 50-year history of social justice work, came to a different conclusion.

Edgehill United Methodist Church in Nashville always has willingly embraced all people. Now it says becoming a sanctuary church is a big priority for its congregation, worshiping Feb. 19, 2017.

The church is putting together a response team in anticipation of increased ICE raids, and members are preparing to offer resources, including short-term sanctuary for those who need it, said the Rev. John Feldhacker, the church’s pastor.

“We are really just trying to make sure that our democracy is a democracy and everyone has a voice,” Feldhacker said. “At this point we’re not saying this is a blatant act of civil disobedience yet. This is just compassion.”

Likewise, in Ohio, Cincinnati’s sanctuary movement will be forming a rapid-response team to warn the region’s communities of undocumented immigrants if a deportation raid is imminent.

"It's about a system," said the Rev. Troy Jackson, director of a multi-denominational social justice organization called the Amos Project. "It's not just about warning people. It's about showing up to protect people at places where hate speech is occurring."

So far, Cincinnati's movement has 17 congregations committed to providing money, food, toiletries and other supplies for those in sanctuary churches. Overall, the movement there cuts across denominational lines with Buddhists, Catholics, Episcopalians, Jews, Muslims, Presbyterians, Quakers and Unitarians from Cincinnati and its Ohio and Kentucky suburbs all involved.

Back in Denver, Vizguerra, who fled violence in Mexico, believes she should be allowed to remain in this country. She has a criminal record because of a 2009 misdemeanor conviction for using false documents to get work but no violent offenses.

She is living in a converted storage room at First Unitarian Society, choir practice and worshipers sometimes disturbing her sleep.

She is welcome to stay at the Unitarian church as long as necessary, said the Rev. Mike Morran, the church's senior pastor.

“This is a profoundly pastoral issue,” he said. “These are children who need their mom. I don’t know how you can argue that.”

Contributing: Trevor Hughes, USA TODAY; Dianna M. Náñez, The Arizona Republic; Mark Curnutte, The Cincinnati Enquirer. Follow Holly Meyer on Twitter: @HollyAMeyer