“We all feel a wound in our body of Christ, knowing what’s happening to them,” said Fran Gardner-Smith.
“We all feel a wound in our body of Christ, knowing what’s happening to them,” said Fran Gardner-Smith.
At first glance, the Nativity scene outside Lake Street Church in Evanston, Illinois, has all the traditional hallmarks: Figures resembling Mary and Joseph stand near a baby Jesus, who rests in a manger.
But this year, the details are decidedly different. For starters, Mary and Joseph are wearing gas masks. Jesus, who typically is depicted lying in hay, is instead nestled in a reflective blanket often used by immigrants in detention, with his hands bound with zip ties. And behind the family stands three Roman centurions wearing vests with a very modern label: ICE, or U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement.
On Nov. 18, the pastor of an 80-person Latino Pentecostal church got a concerning WhatsApp audio message. The message, allegedly created by an unidentified pastor, circulating among Atlanta-area evangelical faith leaders, claimed massive immigration raids would occur there that week on Thursday and Friday.
Dressed in a clerical collar and posing no threat, I was shot in the leg with a pepper ball by Illinois State Police while protesting outside the United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement facility in Broadview, Illinois, on Nov. 1.
The Episcopal Diocese of Texas announced Nov. 1 that one of its priests, a Kenyan national, has been detained by immigration officials despite working in the state legally.
The Church of the Brethren and other members of Church World Service condemned White House efforts to abandon the U.S. Refugee Program in an Oct. 22 statement.
I rarely wear a shirt with a clerical collar — or anything else that indicates I’m ordained clergy. In my little Mennonite congregation, everyone knows I’m their pastor, and besides, among the priesthood of all believers, we are all called, and I don’t want to look pretentious.
