Saying that "we serve a God that calls us to a higher law," Detroit’s Central United Methodist Church will be giving sanctuary to Ded Rranxburgaj, an undocumented immigrant who faces deportation to Albania despite no criminal record and nearly two decades in the U.S. Rranxburgaj had previously been allowed to stay in the U.S. to help care for his wife, who has multiple sclerosis. But this past October, he was ordered by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) to prepare for deportation. With just days until he was scheduled to be torn from wife and two kids, Central United Methodist Church stepped to help shield the family. What would Jesus do? Probably this:
The Rev. Jill Zundel, pastor of Central United, said that becoming a sanctuary is keeping in line with the teachings of Jesus, who had "compassion for those who seek new hope in a new land."
"Central United has been at the forefront of fighting for justice for three centuries now," she said at a news conference announcing Rranxburgaj's residency at the church. "What better place to announce that we will be a sanctuary for this family. ... We have hope and a belief that justice will prevail."
The church "affirms all persons regardless of country of origin as a member of the family of God," she said, wearing a button that reads: "Deport the Racists. Keep the Dreamers," referring to DACA recipients.
In a press conference inside the church, Rranxburgaj’s wife, Flora, “sat in a wheelchair and shed tears as she described how her husband takes good care of her. He is a ‘very good husband’ who helps her ‘take a shower, to change clothes, to cook.’” Rranxburgaj added that “to not see my wife very sick and to leave my sons and not ever see them again, that’s very, very hard for me and for my family. I’m asking for the help of the people to help my family stay together.” The church, which previously gave sanctuary to an African family, is allowing Rranxburgaj and his loved ones to live in an apartment on the church premises:
Zundel said that if ICE agents come to arrest Rranxburgaj, church members plan to "get our phones and live feed it on Facebook as it happens."
Last year, the pastor got a tattoo on her arm that reads: "When injustice becomes law, resistance becomes duty."
Since Trump’s inauguration, the number of congregations vowing to protect immigrants doubled to 800.
Last May, Jeanette Vizguerra, a mom of four, won a stay of deportation until 2019 after spending nearly 90 days in a Colorado church. Having exhausted many legal options, Rranxburgaj is hoping for the same good news so he can stay with his wife and two kids, one of whom is a DACA recipient. “We’re trying to live what we say we believe,” said retired teacher and parishioner Linda Priest. “We can’t just sit back and say we’re Christians. We have to act like Christians. And this man needs our help. We want to help him. That’s the kind of congregation we are.”