‘Compassion, to last, must be made structural’

Moises Sotelo-Casas was detained June 12 outside St. Michael’s Episcopal Church in Newberg. A small-business owner living in the U.S. without legal status since 2006, his arrest spurred immediate condemnation.

Clergy and advocates, including retired Pastor Dan Bryant, invoked Leviticus 19 and Matthew 25. “That the treatment of Sotelo and thousands of others like him goes not only against the tradition of our country, but also the tradition of Christian and Jewish faiths, should not need any explanation,” Bryant wrote.

Sotelo-Casas’ case dramatized a broader dilemma: How do we convert moral intent into lasting public policy?

Hebrew scriptures make no distinction between principle and structure. Leviticus 19:34 commands, “The stranger who resides with you shall be to you as the native among you.”

It is not sentiment but statute. The passage appears alongside rules for honest trade, fair judgment and Sabbath rest. The civic fabric was also the moral one.

This convergence is where our tension lies. A moral commitment to welcome, if it is to endure, must be built into the systems that govern us. James Madison described justice as the end of government. Abraham Lincoln named equality our civic creed. Reinhold Niebuhr warned that compassion alone cannot sustain a democracy. Only institutions can.

Even scripture reflects this struggle. When Nehemiah returned from exile to rebuild Jerusalem, each guild restored a section of wall. But Nehemiah 5 goes further, instituting debt relief. The city’s gates became not walls of exclusion but portals of shared life. This was not improvisation. It was design.

In modern governance, that lesson remains: Compassion, to last, must be made structural.

Immigration law is federal, but cities carry the weight. Municipal agencies must manage the downstream effects – housing, shelters, school-based services and public health systems.

In 2021, the U.S. Department of Homeland Security guidance deprioritized removals of low-threat individuals, not as leniency but as an ethical response to limited administrative capacity. Even lawful systems, applied indiscriminately, can inflict harm.

In both law and faith, responsibility depends on context. Matthew 25 prescribes feeding, housing and visiting the stranger not as ideals but as imperatives. For civic systems, that means zoning ordinances, budget choices and health codes. Welcome must be planned, not presumed.

The public is not divided by values so much as by perceived strain. A 2025 Gallup poll found that 79% of Americans view immigration as “a good thing,” yet 30% favor reduced levels. In a PRRI (formerly the Public Religion Research Institute) survey, 57% said immigrants strain social services.

These perceptions – however inconsistent with evidence – shape elections.

In 2024, President Donald Trump expanded his support among Black and Hispanic voters. Orlando Owens, a minister and activist, attributed the shift, in part, to a widespread sense of disparity: Long-term residents feel subject to heavy regulation, while newcomers appear to benefit swiftly from public help.

When overburdened constituents see expedited aid delivered elsewhere, trust erodes. When fairness feels selective, equity falters. Resentment festers.

Eugene’s local efforts highlight both the promise and the limits of civic design. In 2024, the city permitted 1,600 new homes, meeting its housing production target. Still, 61% of renters remain cost-burdened.

English Language Development needs are rising in schools, while per-student funding lags. Even when numerical goals are met, qualitative strain persists.

As a city both ambitious and bounded, Eugene faces the question: How do we institutionalize moral aspiration?

The city’s Housing Implementation Pipeline lays out strategies: annexation incentives, zoning reform, compact development, micro-village models and streamlined permitting. These are not rhetorical flourishes. They are structural translations of values.

But design demands investment. Land-use reform without rent assistance is hollow. Sanctuary policies without multilingual support in schools are performative. Integration must be funded to be real.

When public systems falter, generosity begins to look like favoritism. The backlash is not against newcomers. It is against civic inconsistency.

Nationally, the same logic applies. Raise refugee caps. Enforce labor laws without criminalizing the poor. Implement a points-based admissions model that balances skills, humanitarian need and family ties. These are not anti-immigrant ideas. They are how structure gives coherence to welcome.

When we cite Matthew 25, let us also name its civic corollary: due process, housing availability and access to food. Not intentions, but institutions.

Let us build accordingly. Not in pity, but in confidence. Not with slogans, but with systems. Compassion is not only a virtue. It is a form of civic architecture – and our charge is to construct it, together.