Let me begin this article by saying that the true heroes in the Sanctuary Movement are our immigrant siblings who are such vital and resilient members of our congregations and communities, especially in these terribly troubled times. In my Doctor of Ministry project on sanctuary at Wesley Theological Seminary, I wrote, “To step out in faith ultimately means that we are stepping into God’s future of promise.”
I began my ministry at Augustana Lutheran Church in 1996, when my wife Tamrah and I had returned to Portland with our son after eight incredible years serving in Chicago with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA). During that first year at Augustana, we declared the church a Sanctuary Congregation.
At that time, Augustana was just beginning a comeback from the possibility of closure, and we were reaching out for creative partnerships. With the help of Latino colleagues, we created what would become Familais en Accion, offering volunteer staff and
in-kind office space for outreach to Latina women. One day, the participants came for a class and were emotionally shaken and fearful. News had just broken of an ICE raid at a workplace. In that moment, we told them Augustana was a sanctuary and ICE would not be allowed in. This was a statement based on faith and the love of Jesus.
Thus began our sanctuary journey at Augustana. Over the following months we had to preach, teach and dialogue about this so all would be on board. For 12 years, we shared this with other faith communities and the broader community and changed our signage to reflect this reality.
Then on Friday Sept. 19, 2014, at 7:30 a.m., I received the call that Francisco Aguirre, a labor organizer, was at home with his wife, two young daughters and teenage son, surrounded by ICE. The call was from one of our members with Interfaith Movement for Immigrant Justice (IMIrJ). I was told that Francisco knew his rights and that ICE had no warrant. I was asked if they could caravan to Augustana for sanctuary, given that ICE left.
As a Sanctuary Church, I could say “yes” in that very moment. If I had hesitated, or had to call a council meeting to decide, Francisco Aguirre would not be alive today. His 18-year-old son Moises, a senior at Reynolds High School, was traumatized by ICE and went back to El Salvador to be with relatives. While there playing soccer, three armed men burst on the field and murdered him.
This moment we are in now is a life-and-death moment for many refugees and immigrants. Faith communities cannot be silent.
Francisco Aguirre lived in sanctuary at Augustana for 81 days, and many people of faith and goodwill came to assist. The community and the press rose up to challenge the powers that be.
Today, Francisco Aguirre and his family are vital members of Augustana, and Francisco is on staff for worship and as executive director of the VIVA Migrant Worker nonprofit at the church. His status is still in limbo, as the church stands with him and so many others.
During the time Francisco was in sanctuary, we traveled to Washington, DC, to join five other churches actively providing sanctuary. In partnership with Church World Service (CWS), we lobbied Congress and helped to launch the CWS New Sanctuary Network, to which thousands of churches now belong. Augustana wrote a resolution calling our Oregon Lutheran churches to declare ourselves a sanctuary synod and then for our denomination to do the same, which occurred in 2019.
Today, the need for faith communities to rise up is as great as ever. Fear is rampant, and the current administration’s policies are racist, cruel and violent. There are many ways to rise up in sanctuary solidarity and hope, ranging from housing undocumented siblings, to coming alongside those who are, to reaching out and standing with our immigrant neighbors, to advocacy and action born of love with Ecumenical Ministries of Oregon.
The Rev. Dr. W. J. Mark Knutson is the pastor of Augustana Lutheran Church in Portland. He was honored with the “Heart of Sanctuary Award” by the Interfaith Movement for Immigrant Justice in 2015.
