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A Place at the Inn: Hospitality, Immigration, and the Role of the Church

by Joseph Russ, Global Ecumenical Liaison, PC(USA)


"When government policies sow division, let us be a church that embraces hermandad and welcome."                Agua Prieta, Sonora, Mexico. Photo by Joseph Russ.
"When government policies sow division, let us be a church that embraces hermandad and welcome." Agua Prieta, Sonora, Mexico. Photo by Joseph Russ.

In 2022, José and his pregnant wife, María, fled gang violence in El Salvador, hoping to request asylum in the U.S. María was allowed into the country, but José was sent back to El Salvador. In the U.S., María gave birth to their second child, whom José has yet to meet [1].


José and María built up a small business in El Salvador when a gang in El Salvador began extorting them. Eventually, they couldn’t afford the extortion fees, but María had become pregnant with their second child. They were overjoyed, but scared of the world their child would be born into. They didn’t want to leave their home and never imagined trying to flee while she was still pregnant. So they waited it out.


One day, the gang members showed up demanding payment and beat José when he couldn’t pay. Bruised and lying on the ground, José was more concerned about his daughter and wife’s safety than his own. There was no more time to wait.


El Salvador. Photo by Joseph Russ.
El Salvador. Photo by Joseph Russ.

As a last resort, they sold everything and began the trek to join María’s family in the U.S. They faced hunger, brutal heat and fierce cold, and long days cramped in small spaces or exposed in the desert. When they finally made it to the U.S., they went to CBP to request asylum.


While his wife was released into the U.S., José and his daughter were detained, denied the right to request asylum, and put on a plane back to El Salvador. José begged officials for sanctuary, but they ignored his pleas, sending him back where the gang was looking for him. Soon after his return to El Salvador, his wife gave birth. The last time we talked, José had only met his second daughter on video call.


While José and María are not their real names, I couldn’t help but think of the biblical Joseph and Mary after hearing their story.


Sun over the desert. Photo by Joseph Russ.
Sun over the desert. Photo by Joseph Russ.

When Joseph and Mary journeyed to Bethlehem, they too were told that there was no place for them (Luke 2:7). José and the pregnant María’s journey brought to mind the challenges Mary must have faced, only to hear there was no place for them. Their flight also echoed Mary and Joseph’s, seeking refuge in Egypt when King Herod ordered the massacre of infants (Matthew 2:13-18).


But in the nativity story, someone opened their doors to the couple. Mary and Joseph celebrated their child’s birth together alongside shepherds, magi, and angels. They escaped Herod’s violence and saved their child. Now, 2000 years later, we continue to celebrate this story.




But in 2022, that’s not what happened to José and María.


What if the biblical story had  turned out differently? What if they were rejected in Bethlehem? If Mary had given birth alone? If José was sent home and beset by bandits? What if Joseph and Jesus were turned away in Egypt? Separated from Mary? Sent back to a place where children were being massacred?


Every year we celebrate that the story didn't end this way.


When José and I last spoke, there was still no happy end to his story.


If we take Jesus' words in Matthew 25 seriously, that “just as you did it to one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did it to me,” it is essential to understand these stories together. We don’t just read a story in a book and feel moved emotionally or academically, we read Scripture inspired by God and allow it to move us to action (2 Timothy 3:16-17). The Holy Spirit transforms us such that we embrace the call to hospitality, solidarity, and hermandad (siblinghood) because our faith demands nothing less.

Many churches do just that. When our government’s policies say, “There is no place for you,” they have turned basements and spare rooms into shelters for those seeking asylum and welcomed those fleeing violence or fighting for their children’s future into worship and community. They read the story of Mary and Joseph, and when José and María knock, they make a place for them.


Let us live as brothers. Photo by Joseph Russ.
Let us live as brothers. Photo by Joseph Russ.

The current administration recently gave ICE permission to raid churches, and we must denounce this as what it is: injustice, cruelty, and sin. To close the doors of our country on José and María when Jesus calls us to welcome the stranger (Hebrews 13:2) is to close the doors on Christ in the name of the idols of white supremacy, nationalism, and U.S. exceptionalism.


In response, more than 30 faith communities have filed 2 lawsuits against DHS, CBP and ICE, asserting this new policy infringes on their religious freedom. The filing for Mennonite Church USA v. U.S. Department of Homeland Security states “Welcoming the stranger, or immigrant, is thus a central precept of their faith practices.”


In February, a judge granted the preliminary junction of the other suit, led by the Quakers, preventing ICE from raiding houses of worship for groups named in the suit. By contrast, the preliminary injunction motion in the Mennonite suit was denied in April, meaning that until the case is settled, ICE is given the freedom to raid other houses of worship. According to the federal judge who ruled in the case, it isn’t clear that this specific policy change is responsible for lower attendance or participation in social programs. As she wrote, “That evidence suggests that congregants are staying home to avoid encountering ICE in their own neighborhoods, not because churches or synagogues are locations of elevated risk.


Yet even in the face of these obstacles and risks, churches and other faith communities continue striving to build communities of welcome, sanctuary, and hermandad.


This is the kind of faith that Jesus inspires.


This is the kind of faith José and María inspire.


When I asked José what he most wanted people to understand about his story, he said, “It's really hard how they slam the door in your face. After all the travel, all the suffering you go through.”


Let us be a Church that opens our doors.


When we say there is a place for José and María, we say there is a place for Christ.


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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Joseph Russ has lived in El Salvador for 8 years, where he has facilitated human rights education programs at Cristosal, studied returnees’ faith experience at the Universidad Centroamericana José Simeón Cañas and co-founded the Santa Marta Center, a support center for LGBTIQ+ people in Central America. He holds a BA in Religion from the University of Southern California and a Master’s in Latin American Theology from the Universidad Centroamericana. He works for the PC(USA) as a Global Ecumenical Liaison.


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