Not Their Decision
In quiet pastoral conversations, and in louder public forums, I’m hearing more about a deep fatigue among the community of Christian faith. Words like immigration, deportation, borders, compassion, and law can divide a room. At the center of this debate stands U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE).
As a Christian, before I react politically, I must first respond spiritually. Scripture calls us to uphold justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God.[1] If so, immigration policy lives in the tension between all three.
St. Paul reminds us that governing authorities exist to restrain wrongdoing and promote order.[2] Part of that order in the U.S. is boarders. Having borders is not sinful and the laws that uphold them are not immoral, so enforcement of that law is not inherently unjust. However, if government is defined this way, described by St. Paul, it must be accountable.
ICE exists because Congress passed laws. Presidents of both parties have enforced those laws. Under President Barack Obama,[3] deportations reached historic highs. Under President George W. Bush,[4] deportations occurred regularly. Under President Bill Clinton,[5] immigration enforcement expanded. And under President Donald Trump’s first term,[6] deportations have continued as part of that same legal framework.
Enforcement did not begin with one man, nor does it end with one man.
Yet much of today’s media environment speaks as if deportation itself were invented in 2017 during the first term of President Donald Trump.[7] As such, enforcement becomes personalized and policy becomes caricature. The word “deportation” is often weaponized, not merely to critique policy, but to inflame emotion and assign singular blame.
Again, from a Christian perspective, I must be careful not to let headlines shape my theology because the media has the power of owning, embellishing, and even changing narrative.[8] There is no question that genuine deportation stories are emotionally powerful. Families are separated, tears are shed, and children become confused. These images move us and they should.
But there is also a tendency in parts of the media to isolate enforcement actions and present them as proof of cruelty unique to one administration. In this case, context is often thin, history is frequently absent, and complexity is reduced to outrage. This does not mean every enforcement action is righteous, but it does mean that we must be discerning consumers of information. Once again, from a Christian perspective I am called to truth not selective truth.
Weaponized narrative harms everyone. It fuels anger on one side and defensiveness on the other. It prevents sober evaluation of what is working, what is failing, and what must change. At the same time, acknowledging media distortion does not require ignoring reality.
A reality check highlights that there have been enforcement operations that appear heavy-handed. There have been raids conducted with militarized optics and tragic instances in which enforcement encounters resulted in fatalities.
A sensible person can only conclude that every loss of life is grievous.
Government bears the sword according to St. Paul,[9] so it must not bear it carelessly. When enforcement leads to unnecessary harm, we should not look away. Justice demands accountability and power must be exercised proportionally and with restraint. The answer to heavy-handed enforcement is not open borders. I believe the answer is better training, clearer priorities, stronger oversight, and unwavering commitment to due process.
Both truth and mercy must sit at the table to distinguish between the dangerous and the desperate. One of the most important moral distinctions we can make is between those who are a genuine threat to public safety and those whose primary offense is unlawful presence.
Undoubtedly, there are individuals who traffic drugs, exploit the vulnerable, commit violent crimes, and hide behind broken systems. Government has not only the right but the duty to remove such threats.
But there are also men and women who have labored quietly for decades harvesting crops, building homes, cleaning offices, landscaping, caring for children and the elderly and much more. They are not gang members or predators. They are hard working men and women.
To collapse these two categories into one is simply unjust.
A Christian worldview insists on moral clarity.[10] Justice means protecting the innocent from harm. Mercy means recognizing human dignity even in those who have violated civil law. So, allow me to make a bold statement: the church needs to be reconsidered as a place of sanctuary.
For centuries, the church has symbolized refuge. Whether or not current policy formally restricts enforcement in houses of worship, the spiritual weight of sanctuary remains. When a frightened mother enters a church seeking prayer and help from her priest/pastor, she is not asking for political protection. She is seeking hope.
Should places of Christian worship be treated differently? That is a legal question, but it is also a moral one. One thing is certain; the church must never become a partisan shield: a Republican church or a Democrat church. The church was never meant to be homogenous but filled with “Jews, Greeks, and Gentiles.”[11] But neither should it surrender its prophetic voice. If enforcement policies create unnecessary fear among the vulnerable, priests/pastors must speak. And if misinformation inflames division, priests/pastors must speak again. How they speak is a question of exegeting[12] Scripture and presenting it with good hermeneutics[13] less the preacher uses the pulpit as bias social activist. Though endorsing a political candidate from the pulpit is now permissible,[14] proclaiming the gospel of Good News is not social activism.
As clergy, our loyalty is not to party or preference but to Christ.
Perhaps the clearest moral issue involves young children brought to the U.S. by parents. Young children did not cross a border by choice, hire someone to transport them, and they did not overstay a visa with intent. They were carried by their parents.
Now many of those children are adults. They know no other country and speak English as their primary language building their lives, careers, and families here. Holding children (now responsible adults as I have described) morally culpable for the decision of parents is not right.
Personal responsibility is individual, not inherited. The decisions of the parent are not automatically the guilt of the child. So, we must ask: Why is there not a clear, efficient, lawful pathway for those brought here as minors to regularize their status? Why should decades of productive living end in perpetual uncertainty?
Some may default to answering these questions pointing to the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA),[15] DREAM[16] Act, or the Special Immigration Juvenile Status (SIJS)[17] But these systems leave people in limbo for years, and in some cases not even functioning anymore. Such default responses are stagnant.
We should also recognize the enormous cost many parents paid to come here by selling their land or house, borrowed money, risked exploitation, and leaving their own parents and grandparents behind. The journey itself can be dangerous, even traumatic.
However, acknowledging that cost does not legalize their action. What it does is reminds us that immigration is not always casual rebellion. It is often a gamble born of desperation and hope. I am called to see the image of God in every person, even when the law has been broken out of desperation.
I am not forced to choose between borders and compassion.
A nation should enforce its laws, protect its citizens, insist on due process, guard against excessive force, and show mercy to the innocent. I fully support this. And the debate over ICE should not devolve into slogans or scapegoating. Nor should it ignore legitimate concerns about enforcement practices that have, at times, resulted in tragedy.
It is my conviction that young children who were carried to the U.S. by their parents, who have grown up here contributing to society need a fresh or renewed process passed by Congress to make them legal.
My Christian calling to clergy is higher than party allegiance and deeper than media narrative. Consequently, I must seek justice that protects, mercy that restores, truth that resists distortion, and leadership – whoever holds office – that is accountable under God.
In the end, the immigration debate is not merely about policy. It is about who we are.
[1] Micah 6:8.
[2] Romans 13.
[3] The Independent 3.1 million deportations.
[4] Ibid. 2 million.
[5] Ibid. 864,000.
[6] Ibid. 2.1 million.
[7] Howard Kurtz. Media Madness: Donald Trump, the Press, and the War over the Truth (Regnery 2018).
[8] John Amis. Media framing and how it can shift the narrative. University of Edenborough. 2022.
[9] Romans 13.
[10] Isaiah 5:20-23
[11] Jews, Greeks, and Gentiles are three groups of people the epistles
[12] Interpretation of the biblical text.
[13] Presenting the biblical text in its original context and applying to the current issue being addressed.
[14] Greenburg Traurig 2025. IRS Announces Churches and Other Houses of Worship May Endorse Political Candidates Without Losing Tax-Exempt Status.
[15] New applicants are mostly blocked.
[16] No longer law.
[17] Any protection was removed in 2025.