It began as a curiosity. I was at the time rector of an Episcopal parish in Connecticut, and I wanted to know why the doors of so many Episcopal churches are painted red. What I learned bears some relevance to the moral crisis we are facing in Minnesota and elsewhere in the nation.
I came across several theories for red doors. First, a red door is a reminder of the original Passover in the Hebrew Bible, when the Jews were instructed to paint blood on the lintel over their doors so that the Angel of Death — the last of the ten plagues visited upon the Egyptians — would “pass over” that household.
Also, red is the color of blood, symbolizing the blood of Christ, the entry into salvation (In the Orthodox tradition, godparents present the newly baptized with red shoes to symbolize walking in the way of the cross). Another theory is that doors were painted red to announce to the parish and to the community that the mortgage had been paid.
But the most compelling theory is that during the Middle Ages, church doors were painted red to denote a place of sanctuary. If someone was being pursued by local authorities (the gentry or the sheriff), especially if that person felt he was wrongly accused, he could find sanctuary in a church and appeal his case to the priest. The red door served as a reminder to the civil authorities that they had no jurisdiction inside those doors.
This final explanation is newly relevant as Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents terrorize the people of Minneapolis and commit murder with apparent impunity. Churches have long considered themselves places of sanctuary, and some congregations openly declare themselves safe harbors for those who feel endangered.
The crackdown by ICE agents has prompted resistance by religious leaders beyond the doors of their dwellings.
The internet includes clips of clerics standing toe-to-toe with the agents, waving them away from the doors of their churches. Clergy regularly protest outside the immigration processing and detention center in Broadview, Illinois, and Religion News Service reports that religious leaders from across the country have descended on Minneapolis to protest Donald Trump’s campaign of mass deportation in the city.
Last week, more than 600 people — Christians, Jews, Buddhists, Muslims, Indigenous practitioners — gathered at Westminster Presbyterian Church for what RNS described as “a mix of activist trainings, spiritual revival and direct-action protests.” A sign on the pulpit, a reference to the Hebrew prophet Micah, read, “Do justice. Love kindness. Abolish ICE.”
These religious leaders have fanned out into neighborhoods with significant immigrant populations to observe and document the actions of ICE agents. They boarded buses and sang hymns and songs associated with the civil rights movement.
In one instance, three ministers, all wearing clerical stoles, witnessed 12 ICE agents descend on a minivan, demanding to see citizenship papers. The ministers blew whistles to call attention to the encounter, which ended peacefully when the woman produced proof of citizenship.
She thanked the ministers profusely, but the incident left an impression on everyone involved. “I’m becoming radicalized,” James Galasinski, a Unitarian Universalist, told RNS. “I’m seeing our nation become more and more fascist before my eyes — I saw it. I saw it. I mean, demanding papers? I never thought I would live in a country like this.”
It’s no secret that religious affiliation has been declining over the past several decades, a slide most visible among mainline, generally liberal Protestants. I’ve long argued that these places of worship could serve as centers of resistance against the drift toward totalitarianism we’re now witnessing in our country.
The red doors signifying sanctuary are only the beginning, although they serve as a powerful symbol. The religious leaders gathered in Minnesota understand that their faith leads them beyond the church doors and into the streets.
But there are dangers as well. In the wake of Renee Good’s murder at the hands of an ICE agent in Minneapolis, A. Robert Hirschfeld, the Episcopal bishop of New Hampshire, counseled his clergy to put their affairs in order, “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.”
These days, a spiritual and moral battle rages beyond the red doors of a church.
Randall Balmer, an Episcopal priest and professor at Dartmouth College, is the author of “America’s Best Idea: The Separation of Church and State.”