July 20, 2026
By Rev. Dr. Chuck Poole
“Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also.”
I cannot speak for anyone else, but, as for me, the current crisis facing our immigrant neighbors – tragically underscored by the deaths of Lorenzo Salgado Araujo on July 7 and Johan Sebastián Durán Guerrero on July 13 – keeps taking me back to those words from John 12:26.
As followers of Jesus, who himself was once the child of a migrating family fleeing political violence (Matthew 2:13-23), we know, instinctively, that our nation’s current campaign of intimidation against refugees, asylum seekers, migrating families and immigrants is wrong, and it needs to stop; something we know and say, not because we have made a political decision to be progressive, but because
we have made a spiritual decision to follow Jesus; in the words of John 12:26, to “be where Jesus would be” concerning the current crisis facing our immigrant neighbors.
While we cannot, and should not, draw straight lines from the world of the Bible to 21st century America, we can discern where the cumulative weight of Scripture points the people of God concerning a Spirit-filled, Jesus-centered, pastoral and congregational response to our immigrant neighbors.
The cumulative weight of Scripture begins its long lean in the direction of empathy for and solidarity with refugees, asylum seekers, migrating families and immigrants all the way back in Exodus 12:49: “There shall be one law for the native and for the immigrant who resides among you.” Then comes Exodus 22:21, “You shall not wrong an immigrant,” followed by Exodus 23:9, “Do not oppress the immigrant,” followed by Leviticus 19:34, “The immigrant who resides with you shall be as one born among you; you shall love the immigrant as yourself.” Then comes Leviticus 23:22, “When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap to the edges of your field; you shall leave the edges for the poor and the immigrant”; Leviticus 25:23, “Because all the land in the world belongs to God, in the eyes of God we are all immigrants”; Deuteronomy 24:17, “You shall not deprive an immigrant of justice” and Zechariah 7:9-10, “Show kindness to one another and do not oppress the immigrant.”
Plowing back through all those calls to empathy for and solidarity with the immigrant brings to mind that fierce old declaration from the late Peruvian priest Gustavo Gutiérrez, that God has a preferential concern for the poor, not because the poor are morally superior, but because they are poor. The same might be said of the refugee, the asylum seeker, the migrating family and the immigrant: God has a preferential concern for the immigrant, not because migrating persons are morally superior, but because they are so often so voiceless and vulnerable. That is just the way God is.
Somewhere deeper than our bones, way down deep at the center of our soul, people of all faiths – along with persons of no faith but good faith – know that is so, which is why we feel so angry when we see government muscle-flexing at the expense of our most vulnerable neighbors; hardworking, community-building immigrant families, afraid to go to work or church because of checkpoints and street stops by law enforcement agencies seeking to meet dehumanizing deportation quotas; a sadly misguided agenda which has resulted in paralyzing fear for countless dear and good souls and, tragically, violent and senseless death for some; most recently, in the summer of 2026, Lorenzo Salgado Araujo and Johan Sebastián Durán Guerrero.
There are many mysteries about our faith, but where Jesus would be concerning our nation’s current campaign of intimidation against immigrants is not one of them.
We may not know everything about everything, but we have enough of the spirit of Jesus in our lives to know that we are called to sit down with and stand up for the same people Jesus would sit down with and stand up for if Jesus lived where we live, when we live; which, based on what we see of Jesus in the four Gospels, would be whoever is most marginalized, stigmatized, demonized, dehumanized, persecuted, excluded, targeted, bullied, outcast and othered; which, in our present moment, includes, not exclusively, but especially, the refugee, the asylum seeker, the migrating family and the immigrant.
For pastors and congregations, one of the biggest questions we face is: How might we live in solidarity with our immigrant neighbors in this current national moral crisis?
Across my 45 years as a pastor, responding to that kind of question with clarity and courage is a test I have often failed. But, while I am certainly no expert, here are a few small, specific, practical ways pastors and congregations might embody the love of God and the spirit of Jesus in solidarity with our immigrant neighbors:
1) We can learn about, connect with, follow and support the work of immigration advocacy ministries. For example, where I live in Alabama, I have paid several visits to the Alabama Coalition for Immigrant Justice (ACIJ) and the Hispanic and Immigrant Center of Alabama (¡HICA!). Other beautiful ministries in the orbit of Cooperative Baptist Fellowship life — FaithWorks in Texas (formerly Fellowship Southwest); Familia, the CBF Latino network; and the work of CBF field personnel Rick and Ellen Burnette in Florida at Cultivate Abundance — just to name a few examples of ministries to know about, pray for and support. These are folk who might be able to connect us to Latino congregations to whom we can listen, from whom we can learn, with whom we can worship, and for whom we can pray.
2) As a gesture of solidarity, we can learn some sentences in the language of an immigrant community. While Spanish is far from the only language of migrating persons in the United States, for many of us it is the predominant language of our nearest immigrant neighbors. To say a simple sentence of support in the language of a migrating family can be such a powerful gesture of solidarity. I keep a homemade poster board sign in my car, for example, with Leviticus 25:23 in Spanish on one side and English on the other, “Porque toda la tierra en el mundo pertenece a Dios; a los ojos de Dios, todos somos inmigrantes.” … “Because all the land in the world belongs to God, in the eyes of God we are all immigrants.” At times, I have stood on the street in front of federal courthouses, quietly holding that simple sign as an act of solidarity with our immigrant neighbors and as a gesture of resistance against our government’s current campaign of mass deportation. Other simple sentences to learn in Spanish include “No oprimas al inmigrante,” Éxodo 23:9 (Do not oppress the immigrant, Exodus 23:9), “Amarás al extranjero como a ti mismo,” Levítico 19:34 (You shall love the immigrant as yourself, Leviticus 19:34); “Todas las personas son bienvenidas aquí,” (All persons are welcome here) and “Lo siento por las acciones del gobierno de Estados Unidos contra nuestros vecinos inmigrantes.” (I am sorry for the actions of the United States government against our immigrant neighbors.)
3) We can visit nearby Homeland Security offices, Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) offices and Intensive Supervision Appearance Program (ISAP) offices to register our opposition to the current approach to immigration enforcement. I have done this a number of times. You can show up, ask to speak to a supervisor, and register your opposition in a way that is kind and clear. Each time I have made that sort of visit, I have wondered what might happen if hundreds of thousands of persons did the same all across the country? Deacon groups, choirs, senior citizen groups, Bible study classes; all physically showing up to stand in solidarity with our immigrant neighbors, registering our opposition to mass deportation quotas and immigration enforcement near schools, houses of worship, medical facilities and workplaces; doing it in a way that is as kind as it is clear and as clear as it is kind, with the words and the voice which the Quakers call “gentle and plain.”
4) We can make an intentional, spiritual decision that we will do what we can to stand in solidarity with our immigrant neighbors. It is easy to be immobilized by the enormity and complexity of our current national moral crisis. We often wonder what possible difference our words or efforts or prayers might make. But here it is helpful to remember Paul’s beautiful word to the Corinthians, “Our labor is not in vain.” Our small gestures of solidarity and resistance can feel like standing in a vast ocean of trouble dipping with a tiny thimble of love. But the only other option is doing nothing, and doing nothing is not an option. So we get up every morning, grab our thimble, wade out into the ocean and start dipping; finding and visiting immigrant stores and restaurants to show our support and solidarity, carrying signs, writing checks, listening to and learning from our immigrant neighbors and calling our representatives, regardless of their political party or ours, to call for an end to government muscle-flexing at the expense of our most vulnerable neighbors.
All of which sounds simple enough, until we lift it off the page and bring it to the church, where, for many congregations, nothing is more troublesome than anything which sounds “political.” And, let’s be honest, in the summer of 2026, few subjects sound more political and feel more polarizing than our government’s current campaign of immigration enforcement.
How we treat the refugee, the asylum seeker, the migrating family and the immigrant is a moral, spiritual matter, but no matter how often we say that, anything we say about our immigrant neighbors will be heard, by some, as too political for the church.
There is no way around that in today’s world. We can use the most meticulously careful speech of which we are capable, never lapsing into sarcasm or exaggeration, never mentioning a political party or leader, always only “speaking the truth in love,” as Paul put it, but still to stand in solidarity with the immigrant will feel, to some, too political.
It is hard to know how to hold that institutional, congregational reality, while also holding the theological, spiritual truth that if standing in solidarity with our most vulnerable neighbors is too political for the church, then Jesus is too political for the church.
But this is why we have the Holy Spirit, to help us hold and carry what we could not hold and carry if there were no Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit, helping us do some things we could not do if there were no Holy Spirit; one of which, in the summer of 2026, is to be where Jesus would be: sitting down with and standing up for refugees, asylum seekers, migrating families and immigrants.
En el nombre y el espíritu de Jesucristo, Amén.
Rev. Dr. Charles “Chuck” Poole is a Baptist pastor and author with more than 45 years of pastoral ministry experience, offering theological reflections that call God’s people to a “walls-down, arms-out” life of love and hospitality toward immigrants, refugees and migrant neighbors. Find his theological reflections on immigration here.