Bearing Witness: Refuse to Look Away from ICE's Treatment of Our Immigrant Neighbors

This past Monday, I received notice of a national call to clergy—an invitation to travel to Minneapolis to take part in a day of action protesting Immigration and Customs Enforcement’s ongoing Operation Metro Surge. As many of you have likely seen in the news, this operation represents a significant escalation in ICE’s tactics. Alongside that, escalation has been a coordinated effort by the federal administration to obscure the truth about what is actually happening on the ground.

The cruelty has been real, and so have the cover-ups.

But so, too, has the courage of Minnesotans responding to this crisis.

Many of you have seen or heard about what people in Minneapolis are doing: neighborhood whistle systems, informal watch networks, human chains blocking ICE from entering apartment buildings. Ordinary people, refusing to look away. Ordinary people, standing between their neighbors and harm.

The invitation to clergy was simple and profound: Come and see for yourself.

Come meet leaders on the ground.

Come bear witness to the truth, the cruelty, and the courage of the Minnesota people.

Come stand in loving solidarity with our neighbors.

When I read the invitation, I couldn’t help but think of two brothers standing by the Sea of Galilee—Simon Peter and Andrew—busy with the ordinary work of their lives when Jesus calls out to them: “Follow me.”

I heard those words again in this moment.

Follow me. Come and see.

The Gospel tells us that Peter and Andrew immediately dropped their nets and followed Jesus. I couldn’t quite leave town that quickly, but that same Monday I wrote to our Session elders, explaining the situation and asking for their support. I am deeply grateful for the speed of your response, and for the moral clarity you showed in that moment.

I also want to say this clearly: I was able to go because of how this congregation has long stood with our immigrant neighbors. Thank you for your faithfulness and your moral clarity. Our world needs communities like Highlands now more than ever.

This morning, I don't have perfectly polished words for you. What I want to do instead is to have a conversation. I want to share what I saw and learned—and then listen together for how the Spirit might be calling us to respond.

Wednesday: Arrival

Late Wednesday night, my friends opened their homes to me. Within minutes of arriving, they began telling me what life has been like. The only word that comes close is trauma. I've never been to a war zone before, but that is what I would compare it to.

People are on constant alert. They have witnessed neighbors brutalized and detained. Families torn apart. ICE’s tactics have shifted—less overt intimidation, more blending in—and that uncertainty has intensified fear and anxiety.

And yet, alongside the fear, there is extraordinary care.

My friends are part of a vetted, secure neighborhood group chat that provides real-time updates about ICE sightings and requests for help. Help is coordinated. Like when the door to an apartment complex got damaged, enabling ICE officials to enter as they pleased, a carpenter in the neighborhood got a new door and fixed it—without getting paid and without waiting for the landlord's permission.

One friend, when not at work, spends his free time driving around the neighborhood, watching for ICE activity.

Another friend ordinarily works for an anti-racism training organization, but right now, her full-time job is organizing food deliveries and rent support. This month, her own landlord refused payment, so that the money could go to someone else who needed it more.

Later during this visit, this same friend took me to a cafe owned by a Somali immigrant. I saw firsthand the fear her community is living with, but also how much love, mutual support, and care are being freely given. This particular cafe offers free tea to any ICE rapid responders and protesters who come in. While there, I got to drink tea and eat sambusa and mandazi.

I arrived knowing that sometimes clergy are not a welcome presence. Whether it be because so many of our colleagues continue preaching heretical Christian nationalism and hate, or because sometimes, despite our best intentions, we can just be really unhelpful to local organizers. I was also concerned that Minnesotans would resent our quick arrival and departure.

However, I experienced the exact opposite. Friends, friends of friends, local leaders, and even strangers endlessly expressed their gratitude for our presence. A woman on the train remarked, "It makes us feel seen, like we're not alone."

Thursday: Education & Training

Thursday was spent in training—learning the practices of nonviolent direct action and listening to local leaders share what has actually helped keep immigrant neighbors safe. I didn't make it into the massive training, but was able to join a smaller auxillary training.

The biggest advice given to me by organizers, who recognize that these same threats to immigrants are shared by communities across the country, was this: get to know your neighbors. You want to know who will help if a situation arises, and you want to know who you want to avoid.

Another phrase we heard again and again, which has stuck with me, is this: It is worse than people know. And it is better than people know.

Minneapolis is, in many ways, a picture of hell on earth—the hell we create when we are not in right relationship with one another. And yet, in the midst of that hell, people are bringing a little heaven to earth every single day.

Friday: ICE Out Demonstrations

Friday brought massive demonstrations: an economic blackout, a general strike, and a community march downtown. At the airport, 100 clergy were arrested while praying on the sidewalk in protest of deportation flights.

Others gathered at U.S. Bank headquarters, demanding that they cancel ICE contracts and use their leverage to lobby elected officials. The clergy were able to get that meeting with US Bank leadership! We are still waiting to hear what progress might have been made, but there was a letter published by dozens of corporations based in Minnesota, including Target's CEO, asking for a de-escalation and greater coordination with local and state law enforcement.

And downtown, nearly 10,000 people marched downtown in temperatures of -15 below!

I was so impressed by this day's actions. The unity and solidarity across the city were a sight to behold.

Ironically, it was about then that I began to wonder whether I might not actually see ICE during my trip. They were nowhere near the downtown demonstrations. Several of my friends actually chose to stay home and patrol their neighborhoods, rather than go downtown, because they were concerned that ICE would take advantage of the protests to target other parts of the city.

Signs of support from inside the Public Library

Saturday: Into the Valley of the Shadow of Death

Saturday morning, I woke to the news of a shooting. It had occurred on the same block where my friend’s partner works. As people have been trained to do, a call went out for community members to come observe ICE activity at the scene.

So we quickly got ourselves bundled up, grabbed gas masks and goggles, and drove the ten minutes to the site.

There, ICE agents were blocking access to the scene, not just from protestors, but as we would later find out, Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension investigators.

Protestors yelled at the ICE officers, things like, “You killed my neighbor!” and, “How can you live with yourselves?” One mom yelled, "Our children will have to live with this for the rest of their lives!"

My friend told me her strategy is often to plead with officers. She'll ask, "Who here is Christian? "I’m a Christian, I went to seminary! Help me understand how you can do this!” She says the goal is for ICE officers to detract as much as possible, and that compassion might just help give them the permission structure to make that choice.

And in response, ICE used tear gas and flashbang grenades. It was terrifying. Especially that flashbang, which doesn't create the shrapnel of an actual bomb, but is just as loud. The violence of these tactics felt completely unreasonable. They were about fear and intimidation, not public safety and crowd control.

What surprised me, though, was how controlled the crowds stayed. They were angry and frightened, but no one physically lashed out. I was struck by how calm and coordinated people were. When a flash-bang landed just eight feet from me, I expected panic. Instead, we moved together onto the sidewalk. And right then, the owner of the pub we were standing in front of opened her doors, and we slipped inside—washing our eyes, catching our breath, warming ourselves for a moment.

When my friend and I finally decided we'd been there long enough, we took the long way back to my rental car. I want you to imagine that on a block with air thick with pepper spray, people were walking their dogs. Children were on the street. People's homes are being turned into warzones.

On this trip, I met Rev. Sarah Brouwer, pastor of St. Paul’s UCC. She shared with our group the story of her stumbling upon one of her neighbors being taken off the street. In the ways of pastors, she had come up with some theological meaning. I thought her reflection incredibly profound: “I think Jesus became the Messiah because he refused to look away.”

Then she talked about how the root of the Greek word for resurrection also means uprising.

Right now, we are called to refuse to look away. Like Jesus.

We are called to take part in Christ’s resurrection, this uprising. Like Jesus.

Not as an abstract belief, but as a lived reality. Like Jesus.

We do that by protecting and caring for our neighbors.

By resisting injustice and waging peace.

By being light in the midst of darkness.

By joining the uprising of people of faith and conscience who know this is wrong.

By bringing a little heaven on earth, even—especially—in the midst of hell.

May it be so.

This reflection was originally shared by Rev. Delaney Piper on Sunday, 1.25.25. Afterwards, the congregation was also invited to share and reflect on what they have been seeing in teh news, and ask questions of Rev. Delaney.