Seeking Sanctuary: Church leaders see duty to protect immigrants —even against ICE

Daylight broke through the stained glass windows behind the Rev. Patrick Nicolino as he sat in the quiet sanctuary of the First Congregational United Church of Christ of Elyria. Hands clasped, he recalled his favorite verse of the Bible. "Love one another as I have loved you," Nicolino said. It was there in that sanctuary nearly a week before that Nicolino, the pastor of the First Congregational Church, spoke to his congregants about the fears and concerns spiking throughout the community of threats of deportation and xenophobia. "Historically, churches have always been places of safety and security," Nicolino said. "The place in which, no matter what the individual has done, if they come into the church space, on to the church property, they are protected. And at this point, that looks like it's becoming more and more possibly difficult to be able to live out." Nicolino's words come on the heels of of changes by President Donald Trump to immigration policy, specifically the rescinding of policy regarding how law enforcement officials may operate in and around "sensitive areas," such as schools and churches. The change has sparked fears and confusion in churches and religious spaces throughout Lorain County. It's left some church leaders and community members in the dark, wondering at times how defiant they can be and at other times what role the church is to play in helping individuals who seek refuge. In the event that Elyria's First Congregational Church would welcome in an individual seeking refuge, Nicolino said that they would be protected. "Under no circumstances would any individual be permitted into the building that would attempt to remove them," Nicolino said. "It would be totally violating the entire belief and ongoing history of a church having sanctuary or being a place of sanctuary and safety." An act of civil disobedience is borne out of the belief that a church has a religious responsibility or duty to protect those in need, Nicolino and others explained. It's something that Gina Pérez agrees with. "These are people who have lived for very long periods of time in communities and in cities and in places who don't want to be separated from their children and looking to physical sanctuary in churches as a way to remain in the United States," said Pérez, who is a cultural anthropologist at Oberlin College and Conservatory. She is the author of "Sanctuary People: Faith-Based Organizing in Latina/o Communities." Other church leaders in Lorain County agreed. The Rev. A. G. Miller, pastor of the Oberlin House of the Lord Fellowship, said that his church has not been directly affected, but added that he can understand the fears many others may feel. "The church is a sacred space," Miller said. "And we have the church-state separation in the Constitution I think for a good reason. … If the people can't find sanctuary inside of a sacred space, then where else? And that the federal government or any other governmental organization can willy-nilly decide and determine it can go in and do whatever it wants, that space is no longer safe." For decades, congregants of The First Church in Oberlin, United Church of Christ like John Gates, have been concerned about human and civil rights, specifically as they pertain to immigrants in Oberlin seeking help. That aid has now been threatened, Gates said. Gates fears that if there were attempts to deport community members, that there'd be a lack of due process. "I think it's not following the rule of law," Gates said. Bob Meilander, committee chairman for the Lorain County Republican Party, disagreed with the thoughts of some local church leaders. Meilander said that while he doesn't think the Trump administration's change to immigration policy has affected the local environment at the moment, churches should not aid individuals seeking sanctuary who have broken the law. "You've got a lot of people that are here for reasons. They come across the border for their own safety, and it's really hard regardless," Meilander said. "If they came across and were not registered, they're illegal. We have laws in this country. There's always been laws. I think they need to enter the right way. Register, go for asylum, and take it from there. And I don't think churches should harbor, keep people if they have done any type of crimes." Pérez questioned what was to be gained by deportation efforts, suggesting that many individuals who would be affected are neighbors and fellow community members. "It doesn't feel like it leads us into a very good place. It just breeds a lot more, you know, sadness, resentment, mistrust and isolation," Pérez said. "It just seems very cruel." To Pérez, the current moment is one that is trading in human and civil rights for a climate of fear and punishment. When asked if he thought any human or civil rights could be violated, Meilander said no. "I don't think it violates any rights," Meilander said. "If you're illegal in this country, if you're not a citizen, we have the right to know who's here. We absolutely have the right to know who's in this country." Nancy Fishburn, executive director of communications for the Catholic Diocese of Cleveland, said the church has many programs aimed at helping immigrants. "As far as how any policy changes will affect the work of Catholic Charities, this is a new and developing situation, and it is unclear at this time what impact any potential changes will have on the ability of Catholic Charities to provide services,'' she said. "What will remain unchanged is Catholic Charities' commitment to serving those in need as best it can with the resources available.'' Nicolino recalled previous times in history when the church gave harbor to those seeking refuge; African Americans fleeing slavery before and during the Civil War, or LGBTQ+ individuals struggling and suffering during the AIDS epidemic. Whatever the time, the church was there for those people, he said. But what about this moment in American history? Nicolino took a long pause and a deep breath as he contemplated how it may be remembered. "This particular time may be remembered as a time in which the very values of being a democratic republic, the very values of inclusion and welcome are questioned," Nicolino said, adding that, aside from Indigenous Americans, most citizens have ancestors who were immigrants. If immigration officials were to enter a church while searching for individuals, Pérez said she "can't imagine anyone who would be in that room allowing that to happen without some kind of sacred resistance." "One thing that I'm seeing now is that there's kind of a renewed focus, both on thinking of the value of sacred space, but also thinking about how all of us, each of us has a duty and an obligation and opportunity to rise to the occasion," Pérez said. While he disavowed any kind of violence, Nicolino said "we have a responsibility to not simply talk, but to allow our actions to show what we believe." Nicolino said he is confident human goodness will win out. "I believe in the innate goodness of humankind, and that, ultimately, love will conquer all. It doesn't necessarily mean that it's going to be an easy journey or everything's going to go smoothly," Nicolino said. "Ultimately, love will win. Inclusion will win. Acceptance will win." Contact Garrett Looker at glooker@chroniclet.com.