God Chose the Despised: Latino/a Immigrants and the Sanctuary Movements

Abstract

The concept of faith-based sanctuary—congregations providing hospitality and protection to those who have broken unjust laws—has its roots in the biblical passages mandating the creation of Cities of Refuge in ancient Israel. Since the early 1980s, sanctuary movements in the United States have provided refuge to asylum seekers and other immigrants facing potential deportation. The majority of those who have received sanctuary have fled the human rights crisis in Latin America. These movements have been pivotal in achieving regulatory changes in federal policy that saved thousands of lives in the 1980’s as well as saving immigrant families from separation through deportation on an ongoing basis. The popular narrative of the sanctuary movements has tended to focus on white citizens with privilege rescuing Latino/a victims. However, an in-depth examination shows that both Latino/a residents and Latino/a immigrants have played an essential and central role. Current faith responses to mass deportation efforts also involve increasingly important leadership by Latino/a residents and immigrants, largely without broader public awareness or understanding of their role. This paper focuses primarily on the contribution of migrants in the sanctuary movement, but with a particular emphasis on the majority of migrants who receive sanctuary—Latin Americans. It also notes the contribution of Latino/a U.S. residents. The reasons for including the role of Latino/a residents are twofold. First, the broader Latino/a church and community in the United States is roughly 30% immigrant; Latino/a residents are often intimately involved with the Latin American migrant community, and their contributions are intertwined. Secondly, Latino/a engagement in the sanctuary and similar movements, whether by residents or migrants, is also often unarticulated or marginalized. The reality that Latino/a resident and immigrant contributions to sanctuary movements are often invisible in the broader public narrative supports a theological distortion with negative consequences for mission and ministry. In many popular Christian education resources focused on immigration and immigrant ministry, the call to the church to witness to the love of God for the stranger is often framed as an act of hospitality While hospitality is a biblical value, a well-meaning emphasis on hospitality as the key biblical response to immigration obscures the actual and potential contributions of migrants to God’s broader mission in and through migration. This message lowers the likelihood of full collaboration between immigrant and non-immigrant leaders and churches. When the narrative is that the privileged are the savior, the leadership of the marginalized is discouraged and opportunities are missed. Conversely, 1 Corinthians 12:26–30 lays out a pattern in which God utilizes the contributions of the marginalized to inspire the church and world. When we see migrants’ engagement in risky advocacy in sanctuary movements, we see a faith that is radically dependent on God and marvelously courageous. The conversion of victims of injustice into God’s agents for transformation becomes a testimony to the power of the living God. When the world can see Christian migrants and citizens working together in power-sharing mutuality, Paul’s vision of the Body of Christ becomes visible. Applying these theological lenses to a fuller portrayal of shared leadership in the sanctuary movements can undo the damage caused by a distorted image of the sanctuary movements and can increase their positive impact. This paper utilizes a non-traditional and decolonial methodology in its inclusion of personal testimony by the author, a leader in North American sanctuary movements over the past forty-five years, in the broader context of an historical and theological analysis.

1. Introduction

When I was 25 years old, I became a member of University Lutheran Church in Berkeley, California, a few months before it declared public sanctuary1 for Central American refugees on 24 March 1982, along with approximately a dozen churches around the country, an expansion of the movement beyond its Tucson roots.2 As the daughter of an immigrant family with roots in Mexico and Russia, I was deeply affected by the stories that I was hearing from the refugees who arrived at our church and moved by their faith. We accepted a young Salvadoran into our home as part of our congregation’s sanctuary commitment. I was also helping to manage University Lutheran Church’s emergency food program for the hungry when people dressed as if they were homeless broke into the church office and stole the sanctuary files the following year.

Those experiences kicked off a lifetime of engagement with various sanctuary movements and related networks, including the co-founding of the New Sanctuary Movement, the Evangelical Immigration Table and Matthew 25/Mateo 25. I have written at key moments over the years about the growth and complex trajectories of these movements (e.g., Chao Romero and Burris 2022; Kim and Salvatierra 2022; Christerson et al. 2023). This will be my first attempt to write about an ongoing source of disquiet and concern—the relative lack of emphasis on the role played by migrants, particularly Latino/a migrants, as well as the role of Latino/a leaders in general in the movement. I am indebted to the recent, excellent work on this subject by several sanctuary historians.3 However, it is equally important to review the spiritual impact and the theological implications of the relative invisibility of migrants in the most popular narratives of the movement of migrant agency, and conversely, the potential spiritual gift of highlighting their contributions.

2. Methodology

The first phase of the methodological approach of this article is historical analysis of the role of Latino/a4 residents and migrants in the sanctuary movements involving North American congregations, from both source and secondary documents, amplified by direct witness testimony. In keeping with decolonial research practice, my own experience as a participant and leader in this movement for over 45 years will be included as a contribution to and thick enrichment of other records.5 The second methodology will be an analysis of the theological significance of this historical phenomenon, responding to the reflections of various scholars on the spiritual and theological contributions of migrants to sanctuary movements.

3. The Historical and Current Concept and Practice of Faith-Based Sanctuary

3.1. Biblical, Ancient and Medieval Sanctuary

We begin the overview of the historical concept of sanctuary with a biblical passage from one of the scriptures commonly cited to defend the practice in religious contexts: “Then the Lord said to Moises: ‘Speak to the Israelites and say to them: When you cross the Jordan into Canaan, select some towns to be your cities of refuge from the avenger, to which a person who has killed some accidentally may flee’.” (Numbers 35:9–11)

This is one of multiple biblical passages concerning the requirement to provide refuge to a person who has committed a crime and is facing cruel and unjust punishment (e.g., Numbers 35, Deuteronomy 4, Deuteronomy 19, Joshua 20). The crime in question in these scriptural texts was manslaughter, the accidental killing of another human being. The ancient biblical penalty for taking a life was “a life for a life.” However, the Torah does not accept that the penalty for murder and for accidental death should be the same. Instead, specific cities under the governance of the Levites were set apart as sites of refuge. In these cities, the leaders were instructed to make a provisional judgment that the accused did not deserve the normal penalty. At that point, the accused was protected from avengers within the confines of the city.

The core concept of sanctuary has been utilized by religious temples and churches at various times and places throughout history to understand and defend their practice of providing refuge to individuals who have violated the law but are facing merciless and/or unjust punishment. The use of Roman temples as a place where a fugitive could be safe from violence became incorporated into Roman law and was extended to Christian churches in 399 CE (Soergel 2025). The practice of providing temporary sanctuary in any church and longer-term sanctuary in specifically designated churches was common in the Middle Ages and early modern period in Britain and incorporated into British legal codes (McSheffrey 2017). Shannon McSheffrey quotes Elizabeth Allen’s forthcoming article, ‘Once and Future King: Sanctuary, Sovereignty, and the Politics of Pity in the Histories of Perkin Warbeck’, Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studi in describing the two basic foci of British sanctuary—unfortunate sinners and the unjustly accused (McSheffrey 2017, p. 20). The commonality between individuals falling into these categories is that they were being pursued by those who would punish without mercy. However, recipients of refuge in religious sanctuaries in Britain varied in their level of culpability from innocent victims of an unjust law to felons or debtors facing harsh reactions to their crimes. The justification of providing refuge to criminals was based on the relative impact on the society of severe punishment, a lesser punishment, or a pardon. Temporary protection from avengers, whether private or governmental, allowed for the clergy to act as mediators in seeking a fair and appropriate result.

The concept of sanctuary was also embodied by church leaders supporting the protection of runaway slaves in the United States as well as Christians protecting Jews from Nazi Germany during Hitler’s regime. It was explicitly used to defend the protection of Vietnam War Resisters (Bau 1985, pp. 129–69).

In all of these different forms and contexts, the consistent characteristic of faith-based sanctuary is its use of religious congregations to provide temporary refuge to fugitives while a merciful and just solution is in process.

3.2. U.S. Sanctuary for Central American Asylum-Seekers in the 1980s and 1990s

3.2.1. The Socio-Politico Context of the First Central American Sanctuary Movement

The first sanctuary movement in the United States for immigrants from Latin America started in the early 1980s in response to the violation of the Refugee Act of 1980. The Act codified in U.S. law the long-standing international commitment to welcome refugees6 fleeing persecution in their land of origin as a result of their race, religion, political beliefs, nationality or membership in a particular social group, requiring that each individual case be judged on its merits.7 However, in the case of asylum seekers from Central America who were applying at the United States border, the new law was not evenly enforced. While awarding asylum to 24% of all applicants globally, the U.S. only approved the applications of 1–3% of asylum-seekers from El Salvador and Guatemala (S. M. Gonzalez 2022, p. 216). While Human Rights Watch and a United Nations investigative team documented that 85–93% of atrocities were committed by government forces, asylum seekers were categorized by the federal administration as economic migrants (Human Rights Watch 1993).

The rationale for this discrimination in the interpretation and application of the Refugee Act is often linked to the Reagan administration’s relationship with Central American governments. From 1981 to 1993, the U.S. government supplied weapons and funds to Central American dictatorships engaged in civil wars against leftist movements (Office of the Historian, U.S. Department of State/Bureau of Administration n.d.). These movements were focused on challenging feudal exploitation intensified by U.S. corporate control of plantations.8 The ascending cycle of resistance (violent and non-violent) and violent repression by government military and death squads led to over 500,000 Salvadorans fleeing for the United States (Menjivar and Gomez Cervantes 2018). The situation in Guatemala differed in many aspects but was essentially similar. One possible rationale for the discriminatory adjudication of the cases of these asylum seekers is that their horror stories had the potential to undermine U.S. support for the funding of these civil wars.

The discrimination against Central American asylum seekers led to deportations resulting in the killing of asylum seekers by government soldiers and death squads (Human Rights Watch 1993). Foundational tenets of Christianity—to love the neighbor as yourself and treat the immigrant as the native-born—set churches from a range of denominations who were encountering these asylum seekers on a natural collision course with the U.S. government.

3.2.2. The Creation of the Central American Sanctuary Movement

In the early 1980s, churches and humanitarian organizations serving immigrants along the border between the United States and Mexico began to experience a flood of asylum seekers from Central America. While their initial response was to provide legal assistance and pastoral accompaniment, they quickly discovered that it was a difficult to impossible task to win these cases.

In 1982, a network of local congregations in Tucson at the Arizona-Mexico border came together to declare sanctuary for Central America asylum seekers. They cited the City of Refuge scriptures as well as international and domestic law to support their commitment to provide hospitality and services to Central American asylum seekers, protecting them from detention and deportation. Most sanctuary movement leaders had additional political as well as humanitarian goals. They sought to end the unjust situation that required this protection. They advocated for the fair application of asylum law and to stop the funding of the civil wars in Central America. Shortly after the initial Tucson declaration, they were joined by a dozen churches in different areas of the country. At its height, the sanctuary movement of the 1980s engaged hundreds of congregations across the country, with major hubs in Chicago, the San Francisco Bay Area, Los Angeles and Houston.9

In 1985, 16 sanctuary movement leaders were indicted by a federal grand jury for a variety of crimes, including conspiracy to bring undocumented aliens into the US and to transport, conceal and harbor them. If the goal of the indictments was to end the movement by discouraging participation, it failed miserably. The movement continued to grow until its public policy goals were achieved; many Central Americans could safely return to their countries, and others were able to utilize various pathways to attain legal status.

3.3. The New Sanctuary Movement of the 21st Century

In December of 2005, the Sensenbrenner Bill passed the House of Representatives of the U.S. Congress. The Bill would have made it a crime to lack immigration documentation showing legal entry and residency, and to consider knowingly aiding an undocumented immigrant to be a crime of equal status (Sections 203 and 206, Sensenbrenner Bill, https://www.congress.gov/bill/109th-congress/house-bill/4437, accessed on 25 July 2026). Immigrants who had worked and resided in the United States for many years without legal documentation were terrified, ashamed and in grief. Many churches that included undocumented immigrants as members and leaders felt with their members. On Ash Wednesday 2006, Cardinal Mahoney, Archbishop of Los Angeles, responded by calling on Catholics across the country to continue to serve all people regardless of immigration status even if the Sensenbrenner Bill passed the Senate and they would be charged with felonies for doing so. His sermon gave fuel and credibility to a burgeoning new sanctuary movement that sought to stand in the shoes of the earlier movement to accompany and protect immigrants targeted by the pending legislation and the anti-immigrant sentiment behind it.

At that point, most undocumented residents of the U.S. had come from Mexico, largely as the result of an economic crisis brought on by the North American Free Trade Agreement, which had resulted in subsidized U.S. agribusiness decimating Mexico’s corn industry (Nisivaco 2017). By the time that the Sensenbrenner Bill was proposed, these undocumented residents had been in the U.S. over a decade but had been unable to gain legal status because of illogical restrictions in the immigration system (e.g., (1) the arbitrary 5000 visas per year cap for unskilled workers, including all farmworkers, ignoring the long history of dependence on an immigrant workforce for farm labor10 and (2) the ban—which mandated a 10 year wait for anyone who had been living undocumented in the U.S. more than a year even if they were married to a U.S. citizen or working for a U.S. employer) By 2006, these undocumented residents were woven into the fabric of their communities and were not interested in receiving hospitality in or from a church. They merely wanted a path to legal status.

The core goal for the new sanctuary movement was to replicate the capacity of the first movement to utilize the credibility of the faith community to shift public perception, change hearts and inspire moral courage. However, the core strategy was not to provide hospitality in churches to a whole category of immigrants at risk of deportation. Instead, the new movement focused on identifying migrants with final deportation orders and compelling stories who would be willing to voluntarily live in churches and become the public face of the movement. In early 2007, networks of congregations in 37 cities committed to offering sanctuary, although not all were able to identify immigrants with the required characteristics for the public campaign.11 The initiative was fully active in Los Angeles, the San Francisco Bay Area, Chicago, Denver, Philadelphia, New York and a few smaller cities. The Sensenbrenner Bill was voted down in committee and was not brought to the floor of the Senate for a vote. However, proposals seeking to positively reform the immigration system also failed to pass. The new sanctuary movement continues, having risen and fallen in numbers and geographic spread at different times and having embraced a variety of strategies as the need and context have changed.

The sanctuary movement’s core components have also been integrated into other national movements engaging the church, which do not use the term sanctuary or its complete package of strategies, such as the Evangelical Immigration Table (https://evangelicalimmigrationtable.com, accessed on 16 August 2026) and multiple faith-based coalitions, including those led by Latino/a immigrants locally, regionally and nationally.12

4. Legal, Political and Social Impact of Sanctuary Movements

The sanctuary movements in the United States have had a significant impact on national immigration policy and other public policies that affect immigrants. Their dedicated and persistent public witness and advocacy moved public opinion and supported legislators and lawyers seeking immigrant justice.

The initial sanctuary movement is recognized as instrumental in achieving a court decision, a new law and a federal funding decision in 1990 that combined to change the fundamental status and rights of Central American asylum-seekers. The court decision, American Baptist Churches vs. Thornburgh, was a class action suit that resulted in providing a new opportunity for Guatemalans and Salvadorans to submit asylum claims under a fairer standard. This court decision also provided re-applicants with a stay of deportation with work authorization. The Immigration Act of 1990 established Temporary Protected Service, which allows immigrants who arrive in the U.S. fleeing human rights crises or natural disasters to not be required to return home if there is a current crisis that prevents safe return. At the same time, Congress sharply reduced US funding for the wars, and support shifted to diplomatic negotiation. The civil wars in El Salvador and Guatemala ended shortly afterwards.

The new sanctuary movement was not able to win legislation but had an important impact on the achievement of two regulatory goals. On 17 June 2011, John Morton, Director of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), set up a system of priorities for immigration enforcement, focusing on the deportation of people who represent a public threat to society and making it a low priority to deport long-term contributing residents and victims of crime. This memo guaranteed immigration judges prosecutorial discretion, allowing them to formally defer the deportation of certain individuals who could check in annually and continue to work and live in the country.13 In October of 2011, John Morton also signed the Sensitive Locations Policy14, instructing ICE agents not to enter houses of worship, schools, courts or hospitals except in the hot pursuit of a violent felon.15

Sanctuary strategies have influenced other national faith-based movements for immigrant justice, including the Evangelical Immigration Table (EIT). The Evangelical Immigration Table began as a very broad coalition of Evangelical leaders and institutions working towards an effective, logical, just and humane immigration system. A particular area of concern for many EIT leaders in 2012 was the plight of a group of young U.S. residents commonly referred to as “Dreamers” (named after the legislative proposal for the DREAM Act—Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors first introduced in 2001 and subsequently since.)16 These young residents had been brought to the United States by their parents as children, had been educated in the U.S. and wanted to give back through their labor and participation in their communities but were unable to regularize their immigration status as the result of complex barriers in immigration law. The Evangelical Immigration Table had its first public press conference on 12 June 2012 in the Rayburn building of the U.S. Senate, with top-level leaders of the Southern Baptists, the National Association of Evangelicals, World Relief and World Vision, Navigators and Intervarsity Christian Fellowship, and a wide variety of other national denominations and ministries, including Focus on the Family. On 14 June, President Obama declared Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) through an executive order. This order did not solve the Dreamer’s legislative problem. However, it protected them from deportation and allowed them to work and live in the U.S. without fear of deportation. President Obama then called the leaders of the EIT and said that he could not have done it without their support.17 While it is important to recognize that United We Dream, an organization of Dreamers, was also critical to the achievement of DACA, the moral power of the public witness of churches demonstrated by the Christian leaders’ roles in this advocacy was similar to sanctuary movements. The EIT was also instrumental in the Senate’s passing of a bipartisan immigration reform legislative proposal in 201318. While the EIT did not involve the level of risk of congregations sheltering undocumented immigrants, EIT leaders went directly against the tide of evangelical opposition to immigration reform because of their expressed public faith commitment to stand with migrants and refugees.

These movements are significant in their demonstration of the potential power of faith beliefs and practices in the public sphere. It is therefore important that we have access to a clear and comprehensive narrative about the leadership of these movements. When the popular record only highlights the role and impact of white, Christian faith leaders, the lack of attention to Latino/a resident and immigrant contributions creates an incomplete narrative.

5. Latino/a Leaders in the Sanctuary Movement

5.1. Latinos/as Leaders in the Central American Sanctuary Movement of the 1980s

The majority of media articles and other forms of public discussion about the U.S. Central American sanctuary movement of the 1980s highlight white, U.S. citizen leadership. Even Wikipedia refers to the movement as founded by Rev. John Fife and Quaker James Corbett, both white US citizens. As sanctuary scholars Lloyd Barba and Tatyana Castillo-Ramos note, “The very framing of the Sanctuary Movement in most books lends itself to a reading of it as a movement headed by a mostly white activist core that sheltered migrants, captured stories of human rights violations, and advocated for some legal recognition of Salvadorans and Guatemalans (Barba and Castillo-Ramos 2021, p. 8).”

The leadership of Fife, Corbett and all the white North Americans who risked their freedom and security for solidarity’s sake was critically important to the success of the movement and worthy of acknowledgement. Yet, their decisions and actions were part of a much larger picture. Latino/a-led organizations played a critical role in the genesis of the sanctuary movement in Tucson. The MAC (The Manzo Area Council), with core leaders Isabel Garcia and Guadalupe Castillo, was assisting refugees before Jim Corbett or John Fife became involved. They provided important technical assistance and support to the activities of the new movement (Barba and Castillo-Ramos 2021, p. 8). Latino/a faith leaders also made significant contributions to the movement; Rev. Ramon Dagoberto Quinones and Maria del Socorro Pardo de Aguilar, Mexican citizens, were two of the six sanctuary leaders convicted of conspiracy by a federal court in 1985 (Bau 1985, pp. 83–87).

In Los Angeles, Latino/a faith leaders played a central role. Fr. Luis Olivares was the pastor of La Placita (Our Lady Queen of Angels), the oldest church in Los Angeles. La Placita had been welcoming and serving Central American refugees since 1981; they formally declared sanctuary in December 1985. As a result of the role of the Los Angeles area as the primary destination of the majority of Salvadorans, La Placita provided sanctuary to far more refugees than any other church. La Placita was a primarily Mexican and Mexican-American congregation, with all of the traditional tensions between Mexican and Central American immigrants. The congregation members who were standing with and defending refugees at La Placita understood poverty and immigration issues from their own direct experience. They gave generously of their time and meager funds in spite of cultural conflicts and competition for resources (Garcia 2018, pp. 248–349).

From this broader perspective, Central American leaders also played a major role. As Ignatius Bau, contemporary chronicler and lawyer of the 1980s movement, wrote, “This new solidarity between church people of North and South is based upon a partnership of shared struggle rather than any prior models of dependency and condescension.” (Bau 1985, p. 176). Latino/a engagement included collaboration between leaders of the movement for justice in Central America and sanctuary movement leadership, the role of Central American organizations in the US in the initiation and support of the movement, and the direct participation of the refugees. The collaboration between leaders in Central America and the U.S. is well-described by scholars Hector Perla and Susan Bibler Coutin:

“It is perhaps obvious that a movement that was dedicated to securing political asylum for Central American asylum seekers and that (in at least some quarters) opposed US military intervention in Central America was transnational. What may be less obvious, however, is the degree to which sanctuary activities emerged as part of Central Americans’ broader effort to mobilize sectors of the North American population in support of organized civil society actors working for social justice in El Salvador.”

(Perla and Coutin 2009, p. 8).

Leaders of the movement for justice in Central America also actively collaborated with Central American-led humanitarian organizations in the U.S., such as CARECEN, CRECE and El Rescate, which in turn worked in an ongoing relationship with the sanctuary movement networks on overall strategy and direct refugee support. Solidarity organizations such as the SHARE Foundation (Salvadoran Humanitarian Aid, Research and Education) and CISPES (The Committee in Solidarity with the People of El Salvador) had working partnerships with both faith leaders in El Salvador such as the Archdiocese of El Salvador, the Lutheran Church of El Salvador and other denominational entities along with less official but substantial relationships of collaboration with leaders of the movement for justice in El Salvador. Rev. John Fife, co-founder of the movement, stated in an interview about a visit to El Salvador: “I learned that Catholic and Lutheran churches were filled with refugees and internally displaced families. They had practiced sanctuary for years before we did.” (Sostaita 2024, p. 17). These collaborative networks brought North Americans into relationship with movement leaders in Central America through delegations, immersion trips and church-to-church partnerships (Perla and Coutin 2009, pp. 8–10). These Central American leaders not only introduced U.S. citizens to the realities of the crisis in El Salvador, but they also gave them a theological framing for their response and inspiring examples of courageous discipleship.

Even more significant perhaps is the role of the refugees themselves who were welcomed and protected by sanctuary churches. The sanctuary movement as a compelling public witness would not have been possible without their valiant willingness to tell their stories in the face of government opposition in the U.S. and the risk to family members back home. Sanctuary scholar Sergio Gonzales notes the impact of these stories: “Sanctuary residents would share their histories with congregation after congregation in their receiving community, seeking to cultivate an awareness of and obligation towards those suffering in countries just south of the U.S. border…” Instead of reciting political analysis or statistics about the number of those displaced or dead, personal story vis testimonio engendered an emotive and more potentially impactful response from North American congregants (S. M. Gonzalez 2022, pp. 223–24). Ignatius Bau, an immigration lawyer serving the movement, gives a detailed picture of the role of the refugees in the first major national gathering of sanctuary movement leaders in Tucson in 1985. Refugees spoke up about the importance of their contribution and their desire for a greater role:

“The Central American refugees pleaded for more participation—a true partnership—in the ministry of the sanctuary movement…the refugees explained that they viewed the sanctuary movement as one of the few ways that they could help change the United States government policy in their home countries so that they could return to Central America. They pointed out that they could assist in the screening and preparation of refugees for sanctuary since they knew better than anyone else who would make the best spokespersons for their cause. The refugees also offered themselves as consultants to the churches planning the future of the movement.”

(Bau 1985, p. 25).

Over the years, many of the original sanctuary refugees have continued to be involved in supporting other migrants. Dora Rodriguez, one of the survivors of an incident where multiple migrants died in the Arizona desert, has continued to be a leader in supporting migrants at the border. In addition to volunteering for other humanitarian organization and participating in public education efforts, she also started her own organization “Salvavision.” (Rodriguez and Carpenter 2025). Pastora Maria Antonia Rios of the Baldwin Park United Methodist Church continues to be a leader in the immigrant rights movement in Los Angeles.

Clearly, the white U.S. citizen leadership of the sanctuary movement of the 1980s is only part of the picture. Latino/a faith leaders in the U.S., Central American faith and broad-based movement leaders in Central America, Latino/a-led partner organizations in the U.S., and Central American refugees receiving sanctuary all played critically important and courageous roles in the movement.

5.2. Latino/a Leaders in the New Sanctuary Movement

Between 1980 and 2005, the Latino/a population of the U.S. more than doubled (14.6 million to 35.3 million). Latino/a leadership grew accordingly, including the numbers and percentages of primarily Latino/a congregations (Pew Research Center 2005). The reaction of the US population was classic xenophobia. In 1994, the State of California passed Proposition 187, a measure designed to bar undocumented immigrants from public health and education services. The Sensenbrenner Bill passed the House on a wave of anti-immigrant sentiment in 2005. Similarly, Cardinal Mahoney’ response to the Sensenbrenner Bill in his Ash Wednesday sermon could also be seen as a response to the growth of Latino membership in the Roman Catholic Church and the Southern California region. In 2006, in the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, almost 3.5 million Latinos/as belonged to the Roman Catholic Church.

At La Placita, which had declared sanctuary in 1985, Fr. Richard Estrada, who had served as a young priest under Luis Olivares, recognized that the threat to the immigrant community called for another sanctuary movement. In early May of 2006, he began to gather a weekly conversation of Los Angeles faith leaders, many of whom were Latinos/as. In August of 2006, Elvira Arellano, a Mexican mother of a US citizen child facing deportation, having exhausted her legal remedies, took sanctuary in Adalberto United Methodist Church in Chicago, supported not only by her pastors (Walter Coleman and Emma Lozano) but by a number of leaders who had been part of earlier Sanctuary movements as well as Latino/a leaders of Puerto Rican heritage who saw a connection between their struggles (Sostaita 2024, p. 20). Elvira was not only a recipient of refuge and protection; she acted as a creative leader and organizer, co-founding La Familia Latina Unida (the United Latina Family), an advocacy organization (Yukich 2013, p. 35; Hondagneu-Sotelo 2008, p. 149; Barba and Castillo-Ramos 2021 p. 15). Even after being deported in 2007, Elvira Arrellano continued her advocacy through the founding of an organization in Mexico, Movimiento Migrante Mesoamericano.

My personal testimony as a co-founder of the New Sanctuary Movement contributes important details to the historical narrative of Latino/a leadership in the movement. In 2006, I was serving as the Executive Director of Clergy and Laity United for Economic Justice (CLUE) and as a Lutheran pastor; I had been attending the meetings at La Placita when I met Fr. Juan Carlos Ruiz (a Catholic priest in the Bronx) at the Mexican America Cultural Center in San Antonio in October of 2006. Together, we came up with a plan that would redesign sanctuary for the current context. Instead of congregations opening their doors to any immigrant seeking refuge, they would seek specific individuals and families with final deportation orders who would be willing to endure the sacrifices of living in a church in order to fight for change. These sanctuary recipients would see themselves as exercising a prophetic call. They would personally have stories that challenged the government and negative public narrative and that revealed the brokenness of the immigration system. The movement, in turn, would take care of them and their family, including providing high-quality legal services as well as an intentional communications campaign to get the stories out as widely as possible. We initially envisioned a partnership between a sanctuary coalition in Los Angeles and one in New York. After speaking with Kim Bobo, Executive Director of Interfaith Worker Justice, about a renewed interest in sanctuary in her network, we organized a meeting of interested coalitions online in early January of 2007. Representatives from 37 cities attended and by the last week of January, the first national meeting of the New Sanctuary Movement was held in Washington DC. The new strategy was accepted as a general guide and a structure established for ongoing communication and mutual support. While Clergy and Laity United for Economic Justice was the lead agency for raising and distributing funds, the structure of the movement was loose, relational and horizontal—reflecting Juan Carlos Ruiz and my Latino cultural orientation.19

The immigrants receiving refuge in sanctuary churches in the New Sanctuary Movement were from a variety of countries and had distinct, impactful stories. Supported by a professional media firm, they were able to tell these powerful stories in news and feature stories. Yolanda “Sanctuario”20, an immigrant staying in Immanuel Presbyterian Church (with Spanish and English-speaking congregations in Los Angeles), was prominently featured in Time Magazine21. Many personally received death threats, and their children were harassed in school because of their public identity as recipients of refuge in sanctuary churches and their engagement in the sanctuary movement.

In the New Sanctuary Movement, the participation of non-Catholic Latino/a immigrant churches played a significant role. Rev. Cesar Arroyo in Los Angeles’ San Fernando Valley led Iglesia San Pablo, a Lutheran church primarily composed of immigrants—many of them undocumented. They welcomed a family, even though shortly after they went public, the paperwork of the immigration case for Pastor Arroyo’s adult son was “lost”—three times. This endangerment of the pastor’s personal family immigration process is a vivid example of the increased risks faced by Latino/a leaders in the sanctuary movement. However, the risks were counterbalanced by the particular gifts that Latino/a clergy and congregational leaders brought to the movement, as is evident in the following story:

In the summer of 2007, the Minutemen (an anti-immigrant vigilante group) had been attacking sanctuary churches, showing up outside during Sunday services and shouting obscenities. Iglesia San Pablo heard through social media that the Minutemen were planning on a particular Sunday to show up at their church. Rev. Arroyo told his congregation that they were not expected to come to church that Sunday, although the Minutemen had been known to go weekly to Sanctuary congregations for months. Instead, the sanctuary coalition was invited to church as well as the Lutheran bishop. When everyone arrived at the church, they were surprised that the church was already full. Every member of the congregation had come to church regardless of the pastor’s warning. After the church, the congregation carried out their plan to process around the church singing and to then stand in front of the Minutemen and pray for them. The bishop joined them in prayer. The Minutemen went silent. As Pastor Arroyo was re-entering the church, he turned to the Minutemen and said, “God bless America.” Some of them responded, “God bless America.” A reporter from Univision said that he had been covering the immigrant beat for years and he had never seen anything like it. The Minutemen never returned to that church again.

From the inception of the New Sanctuary Movement on, Latino/a leaders—including clergy leaders, congregational leaders and recipients of refuge in sanctuary churches—have provided essential contributions to the shaping and impact of the movement. In keeping with the overall growth of the Latino/a population in the United States and its importance in the broader church and society, the number of Latino/a faith leaders active in the new sanctuary movement at all levels has continued to grow.

5.3. Current Latino/a Leaders Standing in the Sanctuary Stream

A growing number of Latino/a leaders are participating in activities that are characteristic of the sanctuary movements without using the term sanctuary. For example, Matthew 25/Mateo 25 is a network of Christian leaders in Southern California led by Latino/a resident and immigrant Christian leaders in Southern California (working in collaboration with other Christian leaders) for the purpose of accompanying and defending immigrant families facing deportation and advocating for immigrant rights. In the face of President Trump’s mass deportation campaign, they have been accompanying immigrants in direct service, legal defense and individual advocacy, as well as participating in public advocacy and non-violent direct action. Many pastors also privately provide safe houses for immigrants facing deportation. Matthew 25/Mateo 25 is a channel through which the Latino/a immigrant faith voice is becoming a force for change.

They are not alone. Over 1000 immigrant pastoral leaders have participated in a weekly online Spanish language webinar since January of 2025 entitled “La Iglesia que Acompaña el Migrante”, led by a collaboration of organizations including the Centro Latino of Fuller Theological Seminary, the Latino National Christian Coalition, and the Asociacion para la Educación Teológica Hispana (AETH). Every session, there is time given to sharing of common dilemmas and the exchange of best practices. Latino/a pastoral leaders from all over the country share stories about their participation in risky accompaniment and advocacy in the name of their faith. At the most recent webinar on 27 April 2026, Rev. Sergio Amezcua, the leader of a network of Spanish-speaking Pentecostal pastors in Minneapolis, MN, shared about his role in the recent successful rebellion against ICE cruelty.22 These Latino/a faith leaders are not only changing the face of sanctuary, to the extent that their participation and leadership are known, but they are also changing the spiritual impact of the movement.

6. Spiritual Impact of Sanctuary Movements

While the sanctuary movements have had a significant social and political impact, perhaps their most important influence has been spiritual and ethical. Their political victories were an outgrowth of its capacity to change hearts and minds through a moral witness. The leaders of the sanctuary movements, at their best, remind the church that compassion and passion for justice are core characteristics of Jesus’ words and witness, central to the prophetic task. Theologian Walter Brueggemann in speaking of the prophetic vocation of Jesus connects compassion and the call for justice: “Compassion constitutes a radical form of criticism, for it announces that the hurt is to be taken seriously, that the hurt is not to be accepted as normal and natural but is an abnormal and unacceptable condition for humanness…thus the compassion of Jesus is to be understood not simply as a personal emotional reaction but as a public criticism against the entire numbness of his social context.” (Brueggemann 2018, pp. 77–78). The willingness to suffer with those who suffer triggers the conscience of Christians and others. The very concept of the cities of refuge in the Torah, passages that have served as a core biblical foundation for the sanctuary movement, is an expression of God’s compassion as mediated through a merciful justice.

7. Spiritual Impact of Latino/a Immigrant Leadership in Sanctuary Movements

In many popular Christian education resources focused on immigration and immigrant ministry, the call to the church to witness to the love of God for the stranger is often framed as an act of hospitality23. While hospitality is a biblical value, a well-meaning emphasis on hospitality as the key biblical response to immigration obscures the actual and potential contributions of migrants to God’s broader mission in and through migration. This message lowers the likelihood of full collaboration between immigrant and non-immigrant leaders and churches. When the narrative is that the privileged are the savior, the leadership of the marginalized is discouraged and opportunities are missed. Conversely, 1 Corinthians 12:26–30 lays out a pattern in which God utilizes the contributions of the marginalized to inspire the church and world. When we see migrants’ engagement in risky advocacy in sanctuary movements, we see a faith that is radically dependent on God and marvelously courageous (Chavez 2025, pp. 29–53). The conversion of victims of injustice into God’s agents for transformation becomes a testimony to the power of the living God. When the world can see Christian migrants and citizens working together in power-sharing mutuality, Paul’s vision of the Body of Christ becomes visible. Applying these theological lenses to a fuller portrayal of shared leadership in the sanctuary movements can undo the damage caused by a distorted image of the sanctuary movements and can increase their positive impact.

When we pay thorough attention to the role of Latino/a immigrants in the sanctuary movements, we experience another level of spiritual and moral impact. Christian immigrant leaders who live with insecurity about their capacity to remain in their destination country have a spiritual lesson to offer.24 Theologian and pastoral leader Yolanda Chavez draws from her own experience of displacement, her decades of experience training catechists, and her thesis studying migrant women catechists in the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Los Angeles to describe a model of Christian spirituality embodied by immigrant leaders. She connects the particular contribution of migrants to the call for a return to the ancient concept of a pilgrim church. (Chavez 2025, pp. 92–94). Through the faith of migrants, “la Iglesia vuelva a descubrir su naturaleza itinerante: no es poder que permanence, sino amor que acompana” (the Church returns to discover its itinerant nature, not as power that endures but rather as love that accompanies), Dr. Chavez speaks of migrant faith as “la fe que transforma cuando la tierra desaparece bajo los pies, y como en medio de esa intemperie, Dios sigue hablando con voz de esperanza” (the faith that transforms when the land disappears beneath your feet and how, in the middle of finding yourself outside, God continues speaking with a voice of hope). She asserts that the modern church is in desperate need of a return to the absolute dependence on God that comes when you lose all security. This Beatitude faith, as the migrant women in her study experienced it, is paradoxical and communal. Faith “surge de la frontera misma entre la perdida y la esperanza” (emerges from the border between loss and hope). It is experienced by “la mujer que sostiene a otros mientras busca su propio refugio, desde la catechista que ensena a orar mientras sana su herida, desde la comunidad que se rehace sin dejar de llorar lo perdido (the woman who sustains others while she searches for her own refuge, the catechist that teaches while she heals her wounds, from a community that recreates itself while continuing to grieve for all that is lost). Hebrews 11:13 undergirds and confirms Dr. Chavez’ assertion: “All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth.” This description of the models of Christian faith in the letter to the Hebrews is similar to the spiritual posture and practice of the migrant women studied by Dr. Chavez.

When Latino/a pastoral leaders face the current mass deportation campaign and all it means—the loss of church leaders, the families who lose their breadwinners, the congregants whose children do not want to let them leave the house for work in fear that they will not come back, and for many of these pastors the real possibility of their own detention and deportation—and still continue ongoing daily acts of mercy and advocacy for justice, they are living a common Spanish expression—dando de su nada—which literally means “giving from their nothing.” Rev. Carlos Rincon, an immigrant pastor in East Los Angeles who is the chair of the Board of Matthew 25/Mateo 25, when asked how he would cope with the flood of need coming from the deportation of husbands and fathers, said, “We are selling tamales.”25 He was asserting his faith that their simple fidelity would be blessed by God, that the overwhelming need would be met by a modern experience of the Biblical story of the loaves and fishes. This is an astounding faith, a faith that silences and stills in awe before it inspires action. In the increasing polarization of our current society and world, this amazing faith has great potential to cross barriers, to move hearts and minds to consider new truths that challenge accepted paradigms.

The faith of Latino/a migrants in the sanctuary movements is also mediated and experienced in community. The migrant women catechists studied by Dr. Chavez experienced divine accompaniment through their mutual support network (Chavez 2025, pp. 58–61, 71). An intense need exists for this spiritual lesson in the United States at this time. In 2021, a national study showed that over 58% of U.S. adults could be considered lonely (Mebane 2024, p. 264). The Surgeon General of the United States published an official advisory in 2023 entitled “Our Epidemic of Loneliness and Isolation: The U.S. Surgeon General’s Advisory on the Healing Effects of Social Connection and Community” (Murthy 2023). The hyper-individualism at the root of this loneliness affects every sector of our society and contributes to fragmented, inconsistent and superficial efforts towards positive social change. It is also profoundly unbiblical.

The vision of the Body of Christ offers an alternative way of understanding our lives and living together differently. While the Roman understanding of the Body Politic included an organic image of community in which all members contributed and worked together (Rollo-Koster 2010, p. 134), Paul used the image to emphasize the vital importance of each member. Each is precious and necessary to the whole. The Body only achieves its goals and fulfills its purpose when the members are in intimate connection. In migrant communities, mutual support is a survival necessity; migrant spirituality recognizes that God meets us in the midst of these relationships on the road. A broader awareness of the role of Latino/a immigrants in the sanctuary movements calls us to awaken to the blessed gift of community as a source for both surviving and thriving in the struggle.

However, Paul has an additional message to offer. Not only is each one precious, but those who have been seen as less valuable should actually be intentionally centered—awarded more value—as the only way to get to a state in which all are valued equally. “But God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it,²⁵ so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other.²⁶ If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.” (I Corinthians 12:24–26)

This shift in value is demonstrated in Acts 6, in the story of the establishment of the diakonate. Acts 6 begins with the less powerful group (the Hellenists) complaining that when the community decided to share their goods, the less powerful ones were receiving less. The Hellenists were the children of Jews who had left Israel and who had as a result been born outside the nation. They had come back as adults and were, therefore, by any other name, immigrants—with fewer rights and power than citizens. The response to the complaint was to create a committee to ensure fair distribution of resources. As Justo Gonzalez observes (J. L. Gonzalez 2001, pp. 92–94), all the names of the members of the committee were Greek. In short, the power is not only shared between residents and immigrants; it is effectively turned over to immigrant leaders. This radical act of equality was so impressive that “the numbers of disciples in Jerusalem increased rapidly and a large number of priests became obedient to the faith.” (Acts 6:7).

The sanctuary movements in actuality embody the same kind of power-sharing—even though the power-sharing in both these movements and in the story of the deacons is far from perfect. When the true role of migrants in the sanctuary movement is made visible, we see a living example of the power of the Gospel for justice. Seeing justice in the process gives us hope for justice in the end.

All of these specific spiritual and theological contributions are needed not only as an enrichment of the popular perspective but also to counter the negative impact of relative invisibility. In 1965, the Rosenthal experiment laid the foundation for understanding the real-world power of implicit bias (Rosenthal and Jacobson 1968, pp. 16–20). Elementary school teachers who were told that their students were brilliant experienced treated the students as if they were highly intelligent—and the students performed accordingly. Teachers who were told that their students were slow experienced equal impact—in the opposite direction. While subsequent research has questioned the validity of some of the conclusions, the study sparked a larger field of investigation that has confirmed that expectations and recognition matter. Not recognizing the role of a particular group in a positive achievement is at a minimum discouraging and potentially damaging.

The spiritual impact of the sanctuary movements in general is a living reminder of the power of the embodied sacrificial love of God in the public sphere. As such, they inspire dedicated discipleship and holistic mission. A major contribution of Latino/a immigrant leadership in the movements is the inspiring example of radical faith, generosity and courage provided by incarnating this love in the midst of fragility and need. Another significant spiritual contribution is the practice of reciprocal care in community that arises from the combination of the intensity of the need and the collective aspects of Latino culture. This quality is particularly important for the church and society at this historic moment in the United States.

8. Conclusions

Immigrants are historically and globally at a disadvantage in their destination country. Natives and other citizens have rights that immigrants lack, making them vulnerable to various injustices. Allies among the citizen population are often essential in order for immigrants to be treated fairly. A core principle of Christianity—loving the neighbor even if he or she is a stranger (or even an enemy) in the name and Spirit of Jesus—has compelled Christians at various points in history to become immigrant allies. The faith-based sanctuary movements in the United States in the 20th and 21st century, have exemplified this commitment and practice. Major victories against unjust treatment of immigrants can be at least partially attributed to the engagement of the faith leaders in these movements. The court case that re-opened asylum cases under a non-discriminatory standard was brought by the American Baptist Churches. Congressional representative John Joseph Moakley, who pushed through the ending of funding to the civil wars in Central America and the establishment of Temporary Protected States in the 1990 Immigration legislation, was a committed Roman Catholic. New Sanctuary Movement leaders pushed for the regulatory changes achieved by the Morton memos in 2011. The Evangelical Immigration Table played a critically important role in President Obama’s declaration of the Executive Order establishing DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals). While multiple advocates were part of these victories, the impact of the sanctuary movement and other aligned networks on these broader changes can be described and documented. However, the impact of the sanctuary movements went farther than political change. Their sacrificial commitment of solidarity between citizens and immigrants sought and achieved spiritual and ethical impact on public decision-makers, immigrants, church leaders and congregants.26 Sanctuary advocates put their own well-being on the line to make visible the injustice of the interpretation and application of immigration law when it separates families and sends refugees back into danger, creating a powerful public testimony to God’s compassion and justice and provoking prophetic imagination.

At the same time, the common public perception of sanctuary as an act by white citizens on behalf of Latino/a immigrants has limited the full potential witness of the movements and has dulled their spiritual power. The broader truth about the full participation and leadership of Latino/a residents and immigrants in the sanctuary movements has the potential for a broader and deeper witness and testimony. Latino/a residents and immigrants have participated on multiple levels. Central American leaders partnered in developing movement strategy. Immigrants in sanctuary chose to tell their stories publicly in spite of the danger to themselves and their families. Key Latino/a faith leaders provided creative practical and theological leadership. Latino/a pastors and their immigrant congregations are currently providing an inspiring example of profound discipleship by accompanying, defending and advocating for immigrants facing deportation in the midst of their own struggles. The risks that white citizens took and continue to take in the sanctuary movements are minimal in comparison to the risks taken by Latino/a immigrant leaders. To continue in spite of those risks, the courage and faith of these immigrant leaders needed to reach a higher level, which is then reflected in the power of their testimony.

The actions of Latino/a leaders in the sanctuary and aligned movements tell the story of a radical, sojourner faith that depends utterly on God’s provision even amidst loss and insecurity. They teach a faith that can live with paradox and find hope. They remind the church that we are pilgrims in this world. The migrants’ reliance on encountering the living God in community draws our attention to the call to live the Body of Christ—a Body in which every member is precious and more honor is given to the parts that have lacked it so that all members may end up with equal care for each other. This type of community may be the only instrument that can break down the social polarization that contaminates the church, enabling us to believe in the possibility of justice and heal our national loneliness.

May this paper build on the recent work of the sanctuary historians describing the role of Latino/a resident and immigrant leadership in the movement to spark a dialogue about the spiritual implications of recognizing their roles—for the sake of the church and the world.