Is 2020 a pivot point in U.S history? Will the momentum for changing how Americans see race—and repair the damage of 401 years of racism—become a movement? Five Southwest pastors examine this moment and the church’s role in it.

Although the Supreme Court’s recent ruling on DACA—Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals—provided temporary relief for young immigrants, their future remains uncertain, and the United States desperately needs immigration reform, participants in a bilingual webinar insisted.

Convención Bautista Hispana de Texas, or the Hispanic Baptist Convention of Texas, sponsored a two-part webinar, first in Spanish and then in English—“DACA & Dreamers: What’s Next?”—June 23 in the shadow of the high court’s DACA decision.

Across the ages, pandemics have packed punitive punches:

• From 1347 to 1351, the black death swept across Europe. Mobs scapegoated Jews, murdering thousands.

• In the early 20th century, the Spanish flu spread throughout the world, and millions died. In the United States, the pandemic spawned racial and social unrest, prompting the deaths of many African Americans in what has been called the Red Summer of 1919.

Servir y satisfacer las necesidades de los refugiados puede ser un poco más problemático en estos días, ya que las iglesias y los negocios están cerrados y se nos pide que seamos socialmente distantes. Los refugiados son muy hospitalarios y quieren que te sientes y tomes una taza de té con ellos, pero ahora llevo una máscara y guantes y dejo las cosas en la puerta y salgo rápido.

A pastor who fled Central America because of religious persecution now feels like a pawn in U.S. politics.

Because of the U.S. government’s Migrant Protection Protocols—also known as MPP and “remain in Mexico”—he languishes just south of the U.S.-Mexico border. Based on the persecution he and his family endured for their Christian faith, he hopes they will be granted asylum in the United States. But because of MPP, they must wait out the process in Mexico.

Refugees in Palomas, Mexico, are assured of getting care for possible COVID-19 infections, thanks to the attention and faithfulness of Rosalío Sosa.

Sosa is pastor of Iglesia Bautista Tierra de Oro in El Paso and director of Red de Albergues para Migrante, a network of 14 immigrant shelters in the north central Mexican state of Chihuahua.

Mexican drug cartel enforcers went hunting “coyotes” in the desert but found a shepherd instead.

Lorenzo Ortiz, director of El Buen Samaritano Migrante Ministry, cares for refugee asylum seekers in the states of Coahuila and Tamaulipas in northeastern Mexico. Fellowship Southwest supports Ortiz and El Buen Samaritano, providing monthly funds for food and other necessary items, as well as operational funds for the shelters and the ministry.

I am a white-presenting Puerto Rican woman. I will soon marry a black man. My college roommates are black. My ancestors are black. My future children will be black. Due to this, the recent events with David McAtee, Tony McDade, George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery have had a certain sting.

Heaven became a happier, funnier, more joyful place early in the morning of June 14, when Babs Baugh joined the heavenly chorus. Most likely, she started choreographing dance steps to enliven divine music.

The voice speaking through my phone carried me to the side of a brother in the faith. He is Cuban, black and seeking U.S. citizenship. He called to ask a sad question that reflects our times: “How can I protect myself from police intervention?”

His question provoked tears as I reflected on the curse of classifying people by the color of their skin. I was born in Puerto Rico where people’s skin tones reflect the palate of possibilities.

Growing up, I had three great friends—Juan Sostre, Daniel Vega and Nelson Túa. We loved wrestling, and that brought us together. Daniel looks Asian, Juan is black and Nelson is white with brown hair.

Webinar hosted by Marv Knox, coordinator of Fellowship Southwest.

Contributors:

• Mary Alice Birdwhistell, pastor of Calvary Baptist Church in Waco, Texas

• Glen Foster, pastor of Pantano Baptist Church in Tucson, Arizona

• Becky Jackson, pastor of Northwest Baptist Church in Ardmore, Oklahoma

• Garrett Vickrey, pastor of Woodland Baptist Church in San Antonio, Texas

• Jorge Zayasbazan, pastor of Baptist Temple in San Antonio

She’s known as Emma. She’s the mother of James, her older son, and Robert, his younger brother. She’s from Guatemala. Her hometown is beautiful, with lots of coffee trees. The weather is great. The lakes and the mountains look like heaven.

Paradise is one thing, but reality is another.

An ancient proverb states: “Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime.”

Rosalio Sosa believes a paraphrase of that proverb: Give a man a concrete block, and maybe he can sit on it in the shade. Teach him to make blocks, and he can build a future for his family.

Sosa thinks he’s found a way for Cuban refugees to construct productive, dignified lives in northern Mexico—by building blocks.

Pastors who comprise Fellowship Southwest’s immigrant relief ministry network recently gathered in a webinar to talk about their work with refugees along the U.S.-Mexico border.

Six pastors talked with FSW Coordinator Marv Knox about how they express the love of Jesus to immigrants they have found, almost literally, on their doorsteps.

Pastors along the U.S.-Mexico border are finding strength in numbers and comfort among partners equally committed to serving refugees in Jesus’ name.

Members of Fellowship Southwest’s Immigrant Relief Ministry—strung from the Gulf of Mexico to the Pacific Ocean—get together through video calls to share their lives, encourage each other and to pray for God’s blessings on their ministries and the immigrants they serve.

Fellowship Southwest’s Border Pastors Peer Learning Group began convening a few weeks ago. And while the concept is new on the border, its roots run deep within the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship. For years, CBF has promoted and sponsored peer learning groups—gatherings of ministers in similar situations, with similar jobs and usually at similar places in their careers—for encouragement, learning and prayer.

The dire situation in my opinion is environmental, of public health concern, economic and social and much of it also involves bureaucratic red tape - Federal, State (AZ, NM, UT, and CO), and local Navajo Nation, Hopi Tribe, and San Juan Southern Paiute (these are Native tribes actually exercising viable tribal sovereignty within the Navajo Reservation geographic boundaries). And then, you have to throw in additional tribal interests - those surrounding tribes which technically fall within an area termed "Navajo Area" but are technically located outside the Navajo Reservation geographic boundaries - the Pueblo tribes of New Mexico, Jicarilla Apache Nation, Southern Ute, Ute Mountain Ute, Kaibab Paiute, Havasupai, Hualapai, Yavapai, and the Western Apache - Tonto, White Mountain and San Carlos. Commensurate with all these are the exertions placed upon the Navajo Nation from all counties, communities, municipalities and metropolitan areas associated with the "Navajo Area" of the Four Corners region of the United States - and then, I cannot fail to mention corporate or business interests either! So I see both an advantageous and dysfunctional landscape, which I will label "Status Quo" confounding the situation along with the present reality simply facing every Navajo person; this present reality we call "Life." This is a most complex topography upon which Covid-19 has been thrown in!

The pastors on the front lines of Fellowship Southwest’s Immigrant Relief Ministry do not labor alone. Their strongest allies—their spouses—support, encourage and fortify them as they fight hunger, depravation, exploitation, injustice and vulnerability all along the U.S.-Mexico border.

These women’s tenacity, commitment and passion is unparalleled. They willingly sacrifice most of their time and effort for their ministries. Their success can only be measured by their loyalty to God.

For months, we have told you about their husbands. This week, the spouses speak.

“I don't care if you die.” The U.S. government repeats this message to immigrants every day, reinforcing it over and over. Policies flip, and explanations flop. But one message remains consistent. “I don’t care if you die.”

For our God of truth, facts matter. And the government’s callous disregard for immigrant life is a matter of factual record. Last week, an immigrant named Carlos Ernesto Escobar Mejía died of COVID-19 in an Immigration and Customs Enforcement detention center. That is a fact.

Webinar moderated by Marv Knox, coordinator of Fellowship Southwest.

Contributors:

• Benjamin Dueholm, pastor of Christ Lutheran Church

• Mike Gregg, pastor of Royal Lane Baptist Church

• Victoria Robb Powers, senior associate pastor of University Park United Methodist Church

• Kerry Smith, pastor of Greenland Hills United Methodist Church

• Andy Stoker, pastor of First United Methodist Church

As governments loosen shelter-in-place restrictions and churches consider the next phase of ministry in light of COVID-19, Fellowship Southwest is producing webinars to help church leaders think about when to reconvene in person and how to go about it.

“These will be open-ended conversations about the spiritual, ethical and technical questions involved in ‘doing church’ face-to-face again,” FSW Coordinator Marv Knox explained. “We wouldn’t presume to tell congregations it’s time to go back to church. In fact, we advocate caution born of love for neighbor. But we know pastors and church leaders have to think about opening their doors again, and we believe these conversations will help.”