The recent cases of undocumented mothers Jeanette Vizguerra, Ingrid Encalada Latorre, and Juana Luz Tobar Ortega highlight a resurgence in the sanctuary movement, with some 800 houses of worship and congregations pledging since Donald Trump’s election to protect undocumented immigrants from his mass deportation force:
[St. Barnabas Rev. Randall] Keeney said he believed that the environment for undocumented immigrants had sparked a re-awakening in U.S. religious organizations since churches began illegally taking in Central Americans fleeing civil war in the 1980s.
"Churches, mosques and temples should be doing this and have for a while, and I think we are waking up again because the circumstances for immigrants, particularly undocumented people, right now is so tragic and unacceptable that people are beginning to respond," he said.
While both Vizguerra and Latorre won temporary stays from ICE, Ortega took sanctuary in St. Barnabas just last week, when the church vestry voted unanimously to protect the grandmother. Houses of worship know the protection isn’t guaranteed—ICE policy states that while agents should avoid “sensitive locations” like churches, they may enter under "exigent circumstances necessitating immediate action”—but faith leaders are determined to continue on with their “holy resistance.”
According to Church World Service’s Rev. Noel Anderson, the group has tracked six instances of immigrants taking sanctuary since November, but the actual number may be much higher because some are avoiding press. It’s a Catch-22, because while being on the radar could attract ICE’s attention, there’s no doubt that widespread media and public outcries helped secure a two-year stay of deportation for Vizguerra, who was in sanctuary for nearly 90 days at a Denver church. Latorre’s stay is only until August.
Overall, the group has documented 25 public cases in the last three years, with eight pending, including Ortega's, Anderson said. He said there were many more cases of people who were not able to get sanctuary in time.
"We've seen people think about going into sanctuary and then going to their check-ins with ICE and being deported — and that is really heartbreaking," he said.
It’s what nearly happened to Ortega and other immigrants, in what immigrant rights group America’s Voice has called “silent raids.” Despite checking in regularly with ICE since 2011, Ortega was given an ankle bracelet during her first Trump-era meeting with the agency and told to prepare for deportation by the end of May. When efforts urging ICE to reconsider her deportation failed, it was American Friends Service Committee, a Quaker advocacy organization, that stepped in to help Ortega secure sanctuary at St. Barnabas.
More than 2,000 people have signed a petition urging ICE to let Ortega stay with her family, and her advocates traveled to the office of Sen. Thom Tillis the day she went into sanctuary asking him to intervene.
While Ortega and immigration activists hope ICE will re-evaluate her case, Keeney said the church would continue to protect her "as long as it takes."
"She's part of our family now, and we're going to take care of her and protect her as best as we can, and if ICE comes, we will do the best we can nonviolently to resist that," he said.