Catholics, Power, and Trump’s Immigration Regime

Jason

Hey everyone, welcome back to The Daily UnHoly. It’s Jason here—if you listened to last week’s episode about the real cost of the shutdown, you know we keep coming back to the same big questions: who benefits, who suffers, and whose moral claims actually get heard? Today, we’re diving into a touchy claim that’s making the rounds: the idea that there’s this massive, quiet majority of US Catholics who are just fine with Trump’s immigration enforcement. Conservative immigration experts—folks like Andrew Arthur over at the Center for Immigration Studies—really double down on that. You know, they’re saying things like, “Younger Catholics are shifting right, they’re more about law and order, they like what Trump’s doing at the border.” But is that the full story?

Jason

Honestly, I’m not convinced. I mean, Arthur gives us that whole bit about how these so-called pro-enforcement Catholics don’t really organize public rallies. He basically says, “That’s to be expected, it’s just a silent majority out there supporting Trump. They don’t need to put on a show.” And, well, maybe there are a lot of Catholics sitting out the protests—but that’s not the same as backing every ICE raid or family separation, is it? And if you go by polls, depending which one you pick, yeah, Catholics are all over the board on immigration. Not exactly a monolith, right? Maybe I’m wrong, but anecdotally, when I was at a One Church One Family vigil—a whole crowd holding candles outside a detention center, praying, showing up for their neighbors—I didn’t see a “silent majority” on the sidelines. I saw visibly Catholic folks putting their bodies out there in public witness. It looked pretty loud to me. So, is it really a silent majority, or just a disengaged plurality—or maybe the majority isn’t as silent as these experts wish?

Jason

And this isn’t just some intellectual debate, either. The “silent majority” framing ends up dismissing the real on-the-ground advocacy Catholics are leading—organizing vigils, holding rosary marches for detained families, that sort of thing. We talked about this before, too: activism has consequences. And, for the record, it’s not always easy for Catholics to step out publicly, especially when Church leadership isn’t exactly unified. But let’s, uh, keep that question about unity in our back pocket for a minute. The point is, this myth of “most Catholics quietly want things harsher at the border” is a lot murkier if you’re actually watching what’s happening in the pews—or the streets.

Jason

So, let’s talk theology and law for a minute, because that’s always the Catholic move, right? Former DHS Deputy Secretary Ken Cuccinelli—this guy’s made the rounds saying there’s only two clear lessons in the Catechism on immigration: first, wealthy nations should be generous in their immigration policies; and second, migrants have to respect the nation’s laws. Cuccinelli’s interpretation is that America’s already “the most generous country” on Earth, so we get gold stars on compassion—and if folks cross the border without a visa, well, that’s on them, and we’re justified in cracking down. Sounds tidy, but is it really that simple?

Jason

There’s a bigger debate, even just among Catholic legal thinkers. Charles Nemeth over at Franciscan University takes it all the way back to Aristotle and Aquinas. He says justice is about giving people what’s “due”—nothing more, nothing less. Basically, if you crossed the border without papers, your fundamental act is already a fault; you’re not owed more than what the law says, because the law itself is meant to serve the “common good of the nation-state.” So compassion, sure, but not if it threatens the social fabric or lets “special rules for special categories” happen. And if you’re picking up on the edge in that argument... yeah, so am I.

Jason

And yet—here’s where things trip over themselves—there’s always this tension in Catholic teaching about respecting law versus showing mercy. One of the things we have to ask is, do these interpretations of law legitimize harsh enforcement and mass suffering? Or, do they serve as a challenge—like, “the law isn’t God, and our rules are supposed to be aligned with dignity and justice, not just order”? I don’t have the cleanest answer, but what I do know is, the Catechism’s generosity clause tends to get lost whenever the conversation turns from abstract “compassion” to actual families in detention centers. And, I think, that’s something more and more Catholics—especially those at the border—are starting to notice, and call out.

Jason

Now, I wanna pivot to church leadership, because this is where things get spicy—in a good way. We don’t usually see US bishops going all-in confronting the White House. But during the Trump era, something rare happened. The US Conference of Catholic Bishops straight-up condemned the administration’s immigration tactics. We saw statements from heavy hitters—Cardinal Dolan in New York, Cardinal DiNardo in Houston—publicly defending DACA, speaking up for Dreamers, saying the administration’s moves were “reprehensible.” You don’t get language like that from the bishops every day.

Jason

And it’s not just about making statements, either. I’ve seen what happens when a bishop comes out and says, “We stand with migrants and refugees,” and it ripples down to parish communities. It’s wild—suddenly, folks who’d never talked about the border start asking questions about justice, about what it actually means to be ‘pro-life’ in a world where policies split up families. I remember one Sunday, right after a bishop took a stand, there were real, heated conversations among parishioners. And, you know, sometimes those conversations get uncomfortable for priests, for parish staff, for everybody. But that’s the price of witness—prophetic witness always costs something.

Jason

Still, there’s risk involved. Bishops—they don’t speak out of turn lightly. Especially when political leaders, sometimes even in their own pews, are pushing back hard. The intimidation factor is real. But, honestly, as we covered in our episode on Kansas City’s General Synod, the church isn’t supposed to avoid controversy—faith calls us to name evil where we see it, and act, even when it’s risky. So, when bishops raise their voices like this, it’s both a sign of crisis and, weirdly, a sign of hope.

Jason

Speaking of controversy, let’s talk about Steve Bannon for a sec. Remember when he accused Catholic bishops of only supporting DACA because, well, “they need illegal aliens to fill the churches”? That’s a pretty sharp jab—basically accusing all our church leadership of being more interested in numbers and donations than in Gospel values. And, as weird as it sounds, these kinds of populist criticisms sometimes get traction. Folks hear it and go, “Ugh, the Church is just in it for itself. They don't really care about human dignity.” It stings.

Jason

What’s wild is, at the exact same time Bannon was running his mouth, you had bishops like Dolan and DiNardo telling Dreamers: “We love you, we welcome you, we will fight for your dignity.” These are public commitments, out in the open. And bishops, for better or worse, don’t usually put themselves on the line like that just for PR or attendance stats. At least, that’s not how it’s landed with the Catholics I know who are organizing and advocating for immigrant rights. I mean, yeah, institutions worry about sustainability, but to flatten all of that into “Church just wants to fill the pews”—it feels pretty cynical, even for Bannon.

Jason

So, does that accusation reflect a deeper mistrust of religious advocacy? Or, does it tap into something real for some folks—like, maybe a fear that faith is just the mask for political maneuvering? Honestly, I think it’s both. There are Catholics who struggle to trust bishops after years of scandal and institutional sidestepping, and there are others who absolutely see the church as their moral north star. But, at the end of the day, prophetic witness is gonna look self-serving to anybody determined not to see hope or courage in it.

Jason

Let’s not forget—this isn’t just a US Church story. If you look south, the Catholic Church in Mexico… they’re doing the work. As Trump’s executive orders reactivated the Remain in Mexico policy, and mass deportations started ramping up again, Mexican bishops went public—blasting what they called ‘faux Catholic’ posturing and pushing back against policies that target the vulnerable. They’re not just talking, either. The Mexican Church has over fifty shelters, soup kitchens, information centers, you name it—offering aid, legal support, food, shelter, connections with families. You’ve got bishops like Eugenio Lira Rugarcía saying, “We embrace you. You matter.” I wish we heard that more often on our side of the border.

Jason

And now, with Mexico’s “Mexico Embraces You” program, folks facing deportation get at least a small safety net—a card for basic needs, health care access, even social security benefits. There’s still a mountain of need and, yeah, plenty of suffering, but the commitment is public and intentional: we’re gonna stand with the most vulnerable, no matter who’s in power. The Church keeps telling officials and the faithful, “Gospel isn’t about exclusion. It’s about radical embrace.” That’s a challenge to any Catholic—especially on the US side—who thinks Catholic identity ends at the border, or that protecting national interests is the only faithful move.

Jason

I guess what strikes me here is the contrast—while American church debates “compassion” and law, Mexican bishops are living the mandate to welcome, protect, and accompany. Makes me wonder… what would it look like for the US Church to take up that same public, risky, Gospel-centered response across the board? It’s something worth wrestling with as the border crisis continues.

Jason

Alright, that’s it for today’s episode—whew, heavy stuff, I know. But, as we’ve seen in past conversations about injustice and active faith, it’s clear: Catholic witness at the border isn’t monolithic, isn’t always silent, and, to be honest, has a lot to teach all of us about what it really means to defend dignity. We’ll dig further next time, so stay tuned, and—seriously—take care of each other out there.