I greet you on behalf of the North Carolina Council of Churches, representing 19 denominations in this state with congregations in big cities like Charlotte and crossroads most of us have never heard of. At the Council we don’t pretend to be objective; we don’t pretend to represent a variety of opinions. We refract the issues of the day through the prophetic voice of the Old Testament and the gospel proclamation of the New Testament. As one baptized and confirmed into the Christian faith, my allegiance is first and foremost to that place. And from that place, the notion of immigration is clearly framed as a call to hospitality.
When the forces of the world conspire to harm the ones to whom we are called to show hospitality, Christians are expected to protect them. On Tuesday, May 20, 2025, armed Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents staged an operation on the property of a church in Charlotte during preschool pickup, a church whose denomination happens to be a member of the North Carolina Council of Churches. While no one was detained and the agents eventually departed without incident, their presence on sacred ground disrupted the peace and created fear among staff, children, families, and congregants. And not just that place, but now sacred places all across North Carolina worry—can that happen to us? The chilling effect is well, downright chilling. We can feel it in our bones…
ICE enforcement activity on sacred property interferes with the Christian call to welcome the stranger, serve our neighbors, and carry out the ministries that are central to our faith. If ICE needs a staging ground, and I would argue they really don’t, then do it somewhere else. The places where people come to worship, pray, study, and live out the tenets of their faith should be unavailable for this kind of posturing. Furthermore, these places are recognized by all people as sacred spaces where the hurting find healing, the hungry are fed, and families—regardless of immigration status—come seeking peace.
The North Carolina Council of Churches and our denominational members remain steadfast in our call to protect the integrity of these spaces and the dignity of every person who walks through our doors. This pledge only seems extraordinary because our culture has created a narrative of scarcity and danger in a world actually filled with abundance and grace. The fake news that only white people who immigrated here from western Europe or, lately, South Africa, can be trusted, conveniently leaves out the truth that those early European immigrants perpetrated genocide against those who welcomed them and enslaved people from another continent to compound their wealth.
The Council and our members are working intentionally to foster hospitality for immigrants and, when necessary, protection for those who have been wrongly called dangerous by those who actually are dangerous because of their disregard for human rights, constitutional rights, and due process. We do this because these people are our neighbors. They live on the streets we live on, they work in the businesses we work in, they play in the parks we play in. We know them. They are not statistics. They are not dangerous. They are not strangers.
But even if they were strangers, people of faith hailing from traditions well beyond those represented by the North Carolina Council of Churches have clear guidelines about behavior toward strangers who come to our neighborhoods in search of a new life. Here’s one:
When an immigrant resides with you in your land, you shall not oppress the immigrant. The immigrant who resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you; you shall love the immigrant as yourself, for you were immigrants in the land of Egypt . . . (Leviticus 19:33-34).
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, were immigrants in the country where they first settled. They prospered and contributed to that place, but eventually their descendants were forced to immigrate to Egypt because of a famine. You’ve probably heard of Moses who eventually led those descendants out of Egypt because things got bad there. They immigrated to a new place and, eventually, became the people in charge of that place—sort of like people here who look like me. Once we are in charge God reminds us to welcome strangers, or immigrants, because we know how it feels to be unwelcome. Welcoming the stranger remains part of the Christian code of conduct to this day.
Another famous person was born in that faith tradition and his parents fled their home because someone was trying to kill their baby.
. . . an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, "Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him." Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod (Matthew 2:13-15).
Jesus was an asylum seeker, a child whose family crossed the border without proper documentation. Obviously, his family received hospitality because—well—we know who he is. He didn’t drown in a flimsy boat or die of dehydration in the desert. His life and teachings, his death and resurrection bear witness to God’s promises to humanity.
Imagine if Abraham, Moses, or Jesus had been treated the way we are treating those seeking safety and well-being among us. Our immigrant neighbors work hard, participate in our economy and hope for a better future for their descendants just as Abraham hoped for, just as Jesus’ parents hoped for, just as my ancestors hoped for.
May we all be so kind to these neighbors as were those who welcomed Abraham, Moses, and Jesus. Thank you.
Find this article in Spanish here.