ICE agents wielding guns tried to intimidate my church. We will not bow in fear. | Opinion
When ICE agents descend on our neighborhoods, when fear spreads like wildfire, people of faith must be the living water that quenches it.

As a pastor, I consider the church not just a place of worship, but a sacred home − somewhere families gather to find comfort, courage and communion. For generations, our pews have held the laughter of children, the tears of grief and joy, and the prayers of the faithful.
Last month, the sanctity of our space was shattered.
Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents entered the parking lot of Downey Memorial Christian Church to take a man who was walking through our property. The agents were armed, masked and aggressive.
They tried to intimidate clergy and staff − people whose only armor is their faith and moral convictions. In that moment, our sacred space became a site of state-sanctioned fear and violence.
This is not isolated. It is part of a widening campaign.
ICE raids keep fearful worshipers out of church
Archbishop Alberto Rojas of San Bernardino, the spiritual shepherd of more than a million Catholics, recently excused parishioners from their obligation to attend Mass.
Why? Because fear of ICE raids has become so pervasive that even worship cannot feel safe.
These are not abstract fears. They are grounded in the reality our congregation and other houses of worship face.
Again and again, President Donald Trump's administration has traded compassion for cruelty and mercy for militarization.
With the passage of the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, which increases funding for ICE and expands its power to conduct raids, the message is clear: no space is sacred.
But let me be just as clear: our faith commands a different path. Our faith in action is God’s relentless love for the most vulnerable. It is the Gospel. Good news to those who need it most.
In our churches, the pews tell a story. A child who no longer attends Sunday school. A mother too afraid to drive to choir practice. An elder who used to bring food to the potluck, now missing without a word.
These absences are not by choice. They are the result of a system that treats our immigrant siblings as threats rather than neighbors. Human beings, beloved by God and protected by our Constitution, have been swept up without due process, without notice, without dignity.
They are detained in inhumane conditions and, in many cases, deprived of their basic human rights.
Churches will combat fear with faith
Yet, in the face of fear, we do not fold. We are people of faith. And faith, in its truest form, is not passive. It does not retreat when challenged. It stands up. It reaches out.
That is why, even now, clergy across California are organizing vigils, demanding action from corporations and elected officials, and showing up in courtrooms and communities to shield those targeted by unjust raids. Because our role is not just to comfort, but to confront injustice.
To be clear, this is not about politics. It is about principle. It is about our shared humanity. It is about choosing solidarity over silence. It is about protecting the sacred right to gather, to pray, to belong.
When ICE agents descend on our neighborhoods, when fear spreads like wildfire, people of faith must be the living water that quenches it.
We may pray in different tongues. We may wear different vestments. But we are united by a common calling to love without exception, to protect without hesitation and to proclaim the dignity of every human soul.
The government may have power, but we have people. People of faith, standing together, are more powerful than any raid, any bill or any administration bent on fear.
We will not be moved. We will not be silent. And we will not let our communities be terrorized.
Our faith began in occupied lands. It was born under an empire. And it reminds us still: when the powerful knock down our doors, we meet them, not with fear, but with courage, conviction and the radical love of community.
Rev. Tanya Lopez is the senior minister at Downey Memorial Church in Downey, California.