Rector’s Note: What would Bishop Whipple Do?-1.15.26

As we know, concern about the treatment of immigrants being hunted down for detention by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) is bringing more and more people out into the streets. They are calling for justice, for the rule of law to be upheld, and they are serving as observers and witnesses. Clergy of all faith traditions have taken an active role, leading prayer and serving as observers, and promoting peaceful responses.

As I mentioned in my sermon this past Sunday, Episcopal Bishop Rob Hirschfeld of New Hampshire, speaking at a prayer service for slain ICE observer Reneé Good on Jan. 9, called upon clergy in his own diocese to be ready to put their lives on the line for vulnerable people. “I have told the clergy of the Episcopal Diocese of New Hampshire that we may be entering into that same witness,” he said, referring to a long tradition of martyrs for justice. “And I've asked them to get their affairs in order—to make sure they have their wills written, because it may be that now is no longer the time for statements, but for us, with our bodies, to stand between the powers of this world and the most vulnerable.”

Read his full statement here. It is a profoundly courageous call for Christians to follow the gospel with courage in a fearful time. “…it may mean that we are going to have to act in a new way that we have never seen perhaps in our lifetime … to put our faith in the God of life, of resurrection, of a love that is stronger than death itself.”

On Jan. 13, 3,700 people gathered online to mourn, lament, and remember people who’ve died by immigration enforcement actions in and out of detention as part of a prayer service offered by the national office of the Episcopal Church. Presiding Bishop Sean Rowe called for Episcopalians and immigration rights activists to continue “resisting,” “advocating,” and “bearing witness.” The Episcopal Church Center staff updated its The Episcopal Street Action Handbook with a toolkit that can be found here.

It might seem like such a small action to bring to the fray prayer and the presence of the Gospel in the midst of protest and street action. However, it has always been a powerful part of civil discourse and civil protest, in the movement of citizens to ensure that their civic structures act with justice, human dignity, and mercy.

The fact that clergy are being turned away at the doors of federal detention centers may be a sign of the threat that a well-aimed prayer and an insistent pastoral presence affords.

An article by Jack Jenkins of Religious News Service caught my eye this morning, reminding me of the long legacy of people of faith working to set the moral compass of our country. Three United Church of Christ clergy were turned away from offering pastoral care to detainees held at a federal building in Fort Snelling on Jan. 13. The Bishop Henry Whipple Building, where they gathered to pray, houses several federal offices, including Minnesota’s congressional delegation.

“The building has become a fixture for anti-ICE demonstrations,” Jenkins wrote, “and on Monday, Department of Homeland Security agents responded to protests at the facility with pepper spray, pepper balls, flash-bang grenades, and arrests.”

But it was the name of the building that really got my attention. How did a federal building come to be named after a bishop? And who was Bishop Henry Whipple? It turns out he was the first Episcopal bishop of Minnesota from 1859 to 1901, and he was a powerful and outspoken voice for justice for Native people who were suffering at the hands of federal policies that he saw as abusive and corrupt, according to his Wikipedia page. Bishop Whipple successfully called for clemency for hundreds of Dakota people who fought against the United States government in the U.S.–Dakota War of 1862. His work was memorialized by the federal government in the naming of the building, where, ironically, brown-skinned people are currently being detained by ICE and denied access to clergy.

If I didn’t believe in the Communion of Saints, I would say that Bishop Henry Whipple must be rolling over in his grave right now. But rather, I think his name upon this building is a clarion call for all people of faith who are working for justice against federal actions that violate our national values and the law of our land. What would Bishop Whipple do? He would do what so many are doing throughout the country right now, wherever ICE is patrolling the streets—call for justice, stand with the vulnerable, and pray loudly and publicly to a God who promises justice for the poor.

In our own region, the opportunities to bring prayer and sacred presence to the streets in support of the vulnerable are ever increasing. As I returned home from our services last Sunday, I passed hundreds of my own neighbors gathered at Lovett Memorial Library on Germantown Avenue. They carried signs calling for justice for all who have been detained, killed, or harmed by the federal crackdown on foreign-born people, people of color, and their allies.

On Saturday, an ICE-Out for Good Rally is planned in Hatboro from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. at the corner of York Road and Lehman Avenue. And on Martin Luther King Day on Monday, Senator Art Haywood and interfaith religious and community leaders will hold an MLK Day of Action to Stop ICE Raids outside the Philadelphia Immigration Court at 9th and Market Street in the city.

Last week, Bishop Rob Hirschfeld of New Hampshire lived Bishop Whipple’s legacy with his own call to move beyond eloquent statements to courageous acts of presence and solidarity. Here is the prayer that he left with the people who gathered to pray in Concord, New Hampshire, on Jan. 13:

Live without fear. You have been created holy in the image of the divine. Whatever race, whatever gender, whatever orientation—straight, queer, trans—you have been made in the image of the divine. God has always and will always protect you no matter what happens. So live in that without fear. God supports you, protects you, and loves you with a power and a presence that is stronger than death. That is how we live free or die. And may the Creator, the Anointed, and the Holy Spirit uphold, give you courage and strength and compassion to live these days. There is a new day ahead. It is coming. We can see, smell it. It is on its way. Let this light shine. The darkness, the shadows of our lives, will not overcome it. Amen.