Resist.

Nonviolent resistance is not new. It is as old as the prophets who stood in the public square and refused to be silent, as old as Jesus who disrupted unjust systems without raising a sword, as old as communities of faith who have said, again and again, this is not how it has to be.

As a United Methodist clergyperson, I am shaped by our Social Principles, which remind us that faith is never meant to be private or passive. The Social Principles call us to affirm the dignity and worth of every person, to oppose injustice, and to work toward systems that reflect God’s vision of justice, compassion, and peace. They are not abstract ideals. They are a call to action. They insist that loving our neighbors includes standing with them—especially when they are marginalized, targeted, or harmed by the abuse of power.

Last week, I joined clergy from across Oregon for a Together Lab clergy briefing focused on immigrant justice and nonviolent resistance. Together Lab is an ecumenical partnership of mainline denominations in Oregon. We gathered as people rooted in local communities, committed to relational organizing, and intent on building communities of care that act for justice. We came together not because we enjoy conflict, but because we love our neighbors and refuse to abandon them to fear or isolation.

As we were meeting in Oregon, in Minneapolis clergy from all varieties of faith communities put themselves in places to disrupt the regime of violence and unbridled racism. 100 colleagues were arrested. An Episcopal Bishop in New Hampshire has told his clergy to get their affairs in order - as in their wills etc. Because that is the circumstances we are living in. Saturday another person was shot and killed on the streets of Minneapolis. (9 people have been killed so far this year as of this post).

Nonviolent resistance is often misunderstood as being “nice” or “quiet.” It is neither. It is courageous. It is disruptive. It is persistent. It tells the truth about power while refusing to mirror its violence. It exposes injustice without surrendering our humanity in the process. It sings out against the ridiculousness of a regime that insists on hurting people.

Right now, we are living under a federal regime that desperately needs fixing. Unaccountable power—power that serves itself rather than the people—is not okay. A government that relies on fear, coercion, and spectacle rather than truth and responsibility is not worthy of our silence. When leadership behaves like grift rather than service, when cruelty becomes strategy, people of faith are called to speak clearly and act faithfully.

This is not about partisan loyalty. It is about moral clarity. My baptismal vow as a United Methodist calls us to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves. That includes policies and practices that terrorize immigrant communities, endanger disabled people, and depend on our quiet compliance to continue.

At the clergy gathering last week, we were reminded that authoritarian systems rely on people and institutions obeying in advance. Faith communities matter because when we refuse to comply with injustice—when we show up publicly, joyfully, and in solidarity—the system weakens. Presence matters. Solidarity matters. Community matters.

For clergy, this work carries particular weight. We are called to stand in the gap—not as saviors, but as witnesses. To use our voices, our bodies, and our relationships to say: you are not alone. To remind our communities that faith is not just what happens inside sanctuaries on Sunday mornings, but what happens when love takes flesh in public life.

For me, this work is not theoretical. While it hasn't reached the communities I live in yet, I am bracing for the moment it happens. My focus is on the people and neighbors in the two communities I serve and live in: Stayton and Silverton. In one church, we host Citizenship, ESL, and GED classes—spaces where people are taking brave steps toward stability, belonging, and possibility. In the other, we are deeply connected with students and participants in the disabled community, people who already navigate systems that too often overlook, dismiss, or devalue them. Protecting these neighbors is part of my pastoral calling. Creating spaces where they are safe, welcomed, and defended from harm is not political posturing—it is love made concrete.

Yesterday evening I went to a vigil. I wanted to support folks who were there and to find solidarity in the struggle. We lit candles, sang, heard poetry and mourned for the lives lost.

The United Methodist Social Principles envision a church that is engaged, courageous, and deeply connected to the world God loves. They assume that following Jesus will sometimes put us at odds with unjust power. They trust that nonviolence is not weakness, but strength rooted in hope.

I don’t know exactly what the months ahead will bring. I do know this: silence is not an option. Presence matters. And nonviolent resistance—grounded in faith, shaped by community, and fueled by love—is one of the most powerful tools we have.

We show up not because it is easy, but because it is faithful.

If you would like to get involved here are a few links:

Interfaith Alliance - Sign up here to add your name to demand that the federal government stop the attacks on our neighbors and we call on our political and religious leaders to stand in solidarity against their cruelty.

5 Calls - Get the app or sign up to help make 5 calls in 5 minutes that help ask our Congress and Senators to stop aggressive attacks on Immigrants and Citizens.

Innovation Law Lab - A way to organize together to help people!

IMIrJ - The Interfaith Movement for Immigrant Justice is a group set up to accompany and equip communities and people of faith in Oregon to advance immigrant justice through the direct accompaniment of immigrants facing detention and deportation, policy advocacy at local, state, and national levels, and purposeful organizing.

There are so many ways to get involved, please do your part! It takes all of us to gather together and resisting evil and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves.