Maria Sanchez had a perfect outfit and a nearly 40-year-old Bible ready to head to church the weekend of June 7— her first visit in months.
The 70-year-old had missed every Sunday service at her local church in East Los Angeles since the week of the presidential inauguration. But as news of ICE raids and sightings swept through social media in early June, Sanchez put her outfit away and chose to pray from home.
“I’ve thought of going back to church. I’d like to go back. I need to go back,” Sanchez told Boyle Heights Beat.
“Going to church gave me tranquility and community. My spiritual life is an important part of who I am. In some ways, I feel incomplete.”
For now, Sanchez says, she will stick to prayer books, meditation, and pray the rosary with her sisters over the phone in Mexico.
A widespread shift
Like Sanchez, many immigrant parishioners in Los Angeles have stopped going to church due to fears of increased federal immigration enforcement. They face the impossible choice: seek spiritual nourishment or risk being targeted, detained and potentially deported.
“We saw a big drop in attendance in June when the raids started happening,” said Silvia Dueñas, parish secretary at Resurrection Catholic Church in Boyle Heights.
She compared the atmosphere to the COVID-19 pandemic.
“It’s a different fear and a different loss, but a lot of the same things seem to be at stake.”
That decline in attendance, Dueñas said, also led to fewer in-person donations during services. But there is one silver lining: parishioners have stepped up in different ways. The church has seen an increase in protected donations to aid immigrant families with rent and utility bills.
“Our prayer group has collected food and has done food drop-offs at home where people are staying in to avoid ICE,” she said.
Sacred spaces reshaped
To ease fears, some churches are taking measures to create as safe and supportive an environment as possible.
Assumption Catholic Church is expanding its food bank services to meet the increased demand and create a space to address the emotional needs of those affected by the ongoing raids.
At Resurrection Church, the doors remain closed during service and a dedicated security guard monitors the area for immigration enforcement activity. While mass is held inside, one of the priests keeps watch and holds a confession period at the same time.
The church has also incorporated “Know Your Rights” trainings during its weekly neighborhood watch meetings. The sessions now include conversations with the sheriff’s department so that parishioners better understand their limitations and opportunities to stay safe.
Braving the risk
Vestuniano Garcia recently attended one of the neighborhood watch presentations. The 65-year-old found them helpful, but at times, they also left him feeling uneasy and reminded of the risks he faces.
“During a presentation by a member of the Sheriff’s Department, someone asked the officer how they would help us if they saw ICE being aggressive with the community members, and we were told that they would be there only to observe but that they would not intervene, basically that their hands were tied,” Garcia said.
“I thought, OK, we are on our own, but at least I have my friends at the church. We are here to take care of each other as brothers and sisters.”
Garcia recently returned to Sunday services at Resurrection Church after months away. He now carries a red “Know Your Rights” card that he was given at the church back in January.
“Driving to the church feels risky, and I feel scared, but when I step into the church, I feel peace I haven’t felt in a long time,” Garcia said.
Bringing church home
For those still too afraid to return to church in person, faith leaders are finding new ways to meet people where they are.
Sister Estela Navarro, a faith leader at Santa Isabel Catholic Church, now walks through blocks in Boyle Heights to lead weekly prayer groups with parishioners who are not attending Sunday services.
“In some ways, we are doing missionary work. We don’t need to be in parts of Mexico or Central America; we are spreading the word of God as missionaries in homes throughout East Los Angeles during a very difficult and scary time for many,” said Navarro.
Santa Isabel has expanded its hours to accommodate pockets of time when people might feel safer stepping into the chapel to pray. It’s also providing food assistance and partnering with the city to connect families to rent and utility relief programs.
“We are a bridge to services. Our parishioners might not trust the government, or they might not know what is available, but they know us and trust that we are not going to risk their safety.”
Faith and elected leaders respond
Faith institutions are also taking a broader stance. In a January statement, the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops renewed its call for immigration reform and “humane” enforcement practices.
Some church leaders have gone further. Under Rev. Pham — the first U.S.-appointed bishop by Pope Leo — clergy have escorted immigrants to court hearings.
Noting the deep trust placed in faith-based spaces, elected officials, including L.A. Mayor Karen Bass and state Assemblymember Mark Gonzalez, have visited churches like Santa Isabel Catholic Church and Resurrection Catholic Church in recent weeks.
Finding peace beyond church walls
Eliseo Lopez, 77, still isn’t ready to return. Instead, he watches Sunday Mass from his hometown in Mexico on Facebook Live, streaming it from his backyard. He was heartened to hear that his priest would show up for him at an immigration office or court if he faced any challenges.
“He told me, ‘Just call the parish and I will be there for you,’ and I trust he will,” he said. “Still, I feel too scared to leave my home unless I have to go out. I would lose so much.”
Lopez surrounds himself with plants and prays in his garden. “Faith is also found in nature, God’s creation.”
He says the climate feels too hot to take extra risks, especially since the Trump Administration said churches are not off limits.
“I don’t make the law, and I don’t know the law, but I feel…[Trump] has no right to enter churches, schools, or other community facilities,” Lopez said. “He has the highest charge, therefore, he must be of the higher service; instead, he steals so much of what means the most to us.”
Editor’s note: In this story, Boyle Heights Beat has changed some names to protect the identities of sources due to concerns about immigration enforcement.
