Phoenix's Trinity Cathedral at the center of Arizona's immigration debate
Episcopal News Service. June 3, 2010 [060310-02]
Pat McCaughan
Trinity Episcopal Cathedral sits on a divide in downtown Phoenix, Arizona, between the city's oldest Hispanic barrio to the southeast and the first wave of Anglo suburbs to the northwest. Its location also puts it at the center of the nation's immigration debate.
"That the cathedral lives on that fault line physically seems to be too good an opportunity to pass up," said the Very Rev. Nicholas Knisely, Trinity's dean, in a May 31 telephone interview. The opportunity, for the church and the Diocese of Arizona, lies in being "a crossroads ministry and inviting people in from different directions. My hope is that what we're trying to do at the cathedral can spread into the larger community."
Two years ago, Trinity added a midday Spanish-language service and watched its membership grow from 600 to 900 members. On May 30, Arizona Bishop Kirk Smith received and welcomed 20 new Episcopalians to the congregation during the service.
"You're not just coming to church on Sunday, you're doing the work of Christ in the world. I especially want to assure you that during this difficult time … you have the complete support of the Diocese of Arizona," he said in English, as the Rev. Canon Carmen B. Guerrero translated his words to Spanish. "We are going to do everything we can to defeat this terrible piece of legislation," Smith added, referring to Arizona's new immigration law (SB 1070) aimed at identifying, prosecuting and deporting illegal immigrants, and scheduled to go into effect July 29.
"I know this has been a scary time, a very frightening time… (but) I am going to stand with you."
The congregation listened intently to Smith and when he finished it burst into hearty applause. A day earlier, tens of thousands of people -- some in support of the law, others in opposition -- from across the nation converged in Phoenix to participate in events and rallies.
Smith and Guerrero, diocesan canon for peace and justice, have joined state ecumenical leaders in protest of the law and have voiced support for court challenges to it. And in an interview after the service, Smith acknowledged that he doesn't speak for everyone in the diocese.
"I have some people in the diocese that disagree strongly with me and they let me know about it. But I feel comfortable saying that most Episcopalians are not supportive of 1070," he said.
Building bridges
Guerrero has witnessed intimidation and random sweeps of Hispanics in the past, and that was what prompted her to start the cathedral's Spanish-language service.
Guerrero, who is third-generation Mexican American, was temporarily serving at Iglesia Episcopal San Pablo, Phoenix's largest Hispanic congregation. She noticed that the Maricopa County Sheriff's Office had parked vans in front of the church.
"It was Good Friday, two years ago. People were parking their cars several blocks away and trying to sneak in the church's back door," recalled Guerrero, adding that the Hispanic congregation began with 10 members and has grown to 350.
From the start, Trinity sought to integrate the English- and Spanish-speaking congregations: cathedral leadership roles, educational and social events and outreach ministries focus on bringing the congregations together. Trinity offers Spanish and English classes and Knisely occasionally leads the Spanish liturgy.
"It's not just the language being taught, but also culture," Knisely said. "That's one of the things Carmen [Guerrero] has pointed out to us again and again -- it's not so much that we need to be bilingual as we need to be bicultural."
The cathedral didn't want a group that basically rented space and remained separate from the main congregation, Knisely said, acknowledging that integrating the congregations has not been without challenges.
Building bridges between communities and within his own congregation of diverse opinions involves a delicate balance, he said. "I try to keep the focus on the liturgy and the worship of God and our relationships with one another. It is hard. You balance it all with 'if I can build bridges between communities long-term, that's going to put an end to the injustice.'
"I still come across people who say, "they're going to drive us all out and this will become a Hispanic congregation. What we're trying to do is move away from the 'us or them' mentality. We're working to change the root causes [of that mentality]: ignorance of each other and the ability to paint people in stereotypical ways."
Recognition and appreciation also help. Some members of the Spanish congregation, while unable to pledge money, have instead performed tree-trimming and plumbing services, even resurfacing the cathedral parking lot. The value of those services—"if we paid for it, this is what it would cost"—is publicly recognized as parish income on annual financial records.
"We want to say no one's getting a free ride here, you're not paying their bills," Knisely said. "They are full and active participants in the life of the congregation. That also helps to change it from an 'us versus them' relationship."
Church at center
Although some civic and religious leaders have encouraged boycotts of the state to protest the immigration law, the House of Bishops announced it would go ahead with a planned Sept. 15-21 meeting as an opportunity to learn and respond to the law.
The bishops are expected to travel to the Arizona-Mexico border and also to attend part of the first annual gathering of the Coalition for Episcopal Latinos, meeting Sept. 15-18 at the Franciscan Renewal Center in nearby Scottsdale.
Cathedral members may hold differing views about the immigration law, but within the cathedral the focus has been on respecting those differences and building relationships, Knisely said.
"We don't ask people about their immigration status," Knisely said. "We ask if they want their children baptized."
But, he added: "I don't know that there's anyone in the congregation who doesn't believe the present immigration system is broken. Many people who support SB1070 support it because they feel it brings a national spotlight to a real problem we have in the state."
The Rev. Maeve Johnson, an Arizona native, a cathedral congregation member for 30 years and an ordained deacon for four, supports the law. She described Arizona Gov. Jan Brewer's signing of SB 1070 into law as a courageous act "to protect the state." The outpouring of animosity afterwards is not surprising, but it is disappointing, she added.
Johnson, who serves with the cathedral outreach ministries, echoed sentiments expressed at another May 29 local event which drew national participation. Several thousand supporters of the law gathered at Diablo Stadium in Tempe for "Stand with Arizona," aimed at countering boycotts with a 'Buycott,' to help boost the state economy.
The issue is much more complex than just "people saying you're either 'for us or against us and if you're against us, you're racist,'" said Johnson, who grew up in a ranching family and believes the current system victimizes everyone.
Those smuggled into the country illegally are typically "impoverished, with no language skills, no education … and are often victimized," she said in a May 31 telephone interview from her home.
So are ranchers who live along unsecure borders where drug trafficking is prevalent. And so is the state economy, she added. "People are becoming more concerned as we try to balance our budget, [concerned] that paying for people to be here illegally is a luxury we can't or shouldn't afford."
Nonetheless, inside Trinity Cathedral "everyone respects all of the people who are members and their right to worship," she said.
A recent church barbecue attended by both English- and Spanish-speaking congregations indicated "we have learned to work together," she said. "We would like to look at ourselves as an example of how people can live and work together and be respectful of different opinions."
Knisely agreed. "Every now and then, when you see the (bicultural) children's choir coming up the aisle, or people getting together to make homemade tamales, you recognize little signs of reconciliation breaking out in the community," he said.
"That makes the internal self-doubt and the questions about the right path, and the struggle to balance competing voices in the congregation all worth it."