As Enforcement Intensifies, Churches Become Sanctuaries for Immigrants Seeking Peace

On a recent Thursday evening, on the edge of Oakland’s Fruitvale neighborhood, scores of parishioners carrying candles made a quiet procession out the heavy wooden doors of St. Jarlath Catholic Church, past the glowing stained-glass windows and around the block.

This special service centered on a prayer, written by the late Pope Francis, for the protection of immigrants: “May we seek a world where none are forced to leave their home and where all can live in freedom, dignity and peace.”

These words were a balm for Vicente, 57, a welder with glasses and a goatee, whose 10-year-old son walked beside him.

Vicente, who’s originally from Mexico but has built a life in the East Bay over the past quarter-century, said the Trump administration’s aggressive approach to immigration enforcement has left his family, friends and coworkers in a constant state of anxiety. KQED is not using his last name because, even with a lawyer’s help, he’s been unable to obtain a secure immigration status.

“We’re all living with this same panic,” Vicente said. “More than anything, it’s the fear of being separated from our children.”

St. Jarlath’s pastor, Father Simon Mbuthi, organized the mass at the request of Faith in Action East Bay, a multi-denominational community organizing network that advocates for immigrants. He said he was also moved to act because he had seen fewer students show up for catechism classes as their immigrant parents are fearful of leaving their homes any more than necessary.

“It’s to dispel fear, first of all, and also to let them know that they are not alone in this,” said Mbuthi, who’s originally from Kenya and holds mass in both Spanish and English. “We want to show them solidarity.”

As Mbuthi stood outside the church in his red clerical robe, he said Francis’s prayer was not only meant to offer comfort but also a plea to God to open the hearts of those in power, namely the people making decisions about immigration enforcement — “that they may see our brothers and sisters not as criminals, not as enemies, but as human beings.”

Faith communities mobilize

With social media feeds and TV news filled with videos of masked immigration agents smashing car windows and wrestling people to the ground in Chicago, Los Angeles and other U.S. cities, Mbuthi is one of many Bay Area faith leaders working to build solidarity — and offer some solace.

His mass took place shortly before the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops issued a near-unanimous special pastoral message on Wednesday, condemning the government for “the indiscriminate mass deportation of people.”

“We are saddened by the state of contemporary debate and the vilification of immigrants,” the bishops wrote in the rare unified message. “We feel compelled now in this environment to raise our voices in defense of God-given human dignity.”

For months, as immigration enforcement ramped up in President Donald Trump’s second term, religious leaders of many faiths have held vigils outside the San Francisco office of U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, calling for an end to the agency’s increasingly harsh tactics that they say separate families and violate people’s rights.

And in late October, when dozens of Border Patrol agents were deployed to U.S. Coast Guard Base Alameda with a plan to “surge” them onto Bay Area streets, clergy were prominent among those protesting at the gates. The operation was canceled at the last minute, following reports of phone calls to Trump made by tech executives at the behest of San Francisco Mayor Daniel Lurie.

The protests come amid a sharp rise in arrests and detentions, as the Trump administration aims for “mass” deportations. ICE arrests in California shot up from 456 in July 2024 to 2,874 this past July, the most recent month for which data is available.

Deportations from California grew 78% — to roughly 5,500 people in the first seven months of 2025 compared to the same period last year, the San Francisco Chronicle reported, citing data obtained by the Deportation Data Project at UC Berkeley.

“Many of us have been deeply distressed to see so many of our immigrant neighbors treated in such brutal ways,” Rev. Marjorie Matthews, pastor of Plymouth United Church of Christ in Oakland, said at a recent rally.

Dignity emboldened in faith

At St. Jarlath’s, Vicente said he has barely wanted to leave the house lately, but he felt safe to attend the service because Faith in Action, a group he volunteers with, was involved. After the mass, organizers provided information to parishioners about the county’s rapid response hotline for verifying ICE activity and about resources for families whose loved ones face detention.

“We feel more secure doing this vigil because there are people here who understand the issue,” he said.

Emma Paulino, a longtime organizer with Faith in Action who asked Father Mbuthi to hold the service, said people need to see their clergy accompany them through this difficult time.

“For many families, immigrant families, the church is their second home,” said Paulino, whose short gray hair framed her weathered face. “The church is a place where we feel safe, where we feel like this is my community.”

With one in four Californians born in another country, the impact of Trump’s immigration crackdown is widely felt. Nearly 40% of likely California voters say they know someone whose mental health and finances are suffering as a result, according to an October poll by the California Wellness Foundation.

Another recent poll, by the Public Policy Institute of California, found nearly three-quarters of Californians consider immigrants a benefit to the state and say undocumented immigrants should be allowed to stay legally if they meet certain requirements. Additionally, 71% said they disapprove of ICE’s performance.

One of them is Jim Wood, a lawyer and lifelong Oaklander, who’s a member of the St. Jarlath congregation and offers free legal services to others in the parish.

“People who have come here deserve so much better than what it is that this country is giving them,” said Wood, 77, as he walked in the evening procession. “These are extraordinarily courageous people.”

He said he takes seriously Francis’s call to pray even for those whose actions he abhors.

“The hardest thing that we can do is to stand up to the Trump administration with compassion, with love,” he said. “We learned from the civil rights movement that that is extraordinarily powerful and effective in creating change.”

For Vicente, walking with his son and his priest and the other members of Faith in Action through the dark streets with candles raised meant a lot.

“Gathering together in faith gives us strength,” he said. “We can say, ‘We’re here. And we’re working and helping this country.’ It’s a way of saying, ‘Here I am.’”

For advocates like Paulino, reminding people of their inherent worth is both an antidote to fear and a source of power — one they can draw from to organize for change.

“For me, as a person of faith, my dignity is not something that somebody in a political power position gives to me,” she said. “It’s a gift from God. We have been created in the image of God, and that is something that no one can take away from us.”