WE GATHERED. On a day when I learned that a friend, an American citizen, was recently racially-profiled and stopped by ICE. On a day when I learned that ICE vehicles have been parked in my neighborhood. On a day when several Minnesota children were released from federal detainment in Texas. On a day when the border czar announced the draw-down of 700 federal agents (out of 3,000) in Minnesota. On this early February day, 75 of us gathered for an “Evening Prayer Service for Our Nation” at the Cathedral of Our Merciful Saviour in Faribault, Bishop Henry Whipple’s church.
I needed this service of prayer, scripture, Psalms, reflection and hymns to quiet my troubled spirit. But I needed, too, to hold space, to sit and stand and sing and pray in community, in support of anyone—especially our immigrant and refugee neighbors—illegally stopped, taken and/or detained by ICE.
This was not a protest service. Rather, this was a reflective, prayerful, unifying, worshipful coming together of people in my community who care deeply about their neighbors and about this nation.
The Rev. James Zotalis welcomed attendees to the event held inside the massive Episcopal cathedral completed in 1869 under the leadership of Bishop Whipple. “Welcome to the Whipple building,” Zotalis said in opening his short homily. “This is the real Whipple building.”
He contrasted the beautiful church to the stark seven-story Whipple Federal Building 50 miles to the north that bears the good bishop’s name and which is now a temporary detention center for those detained by ICE in Minnesota. Conditions inside have been described as “inhumane” by officials who have visited the facility.
The cathedral, Zotalis said, is a place of love and peace, its ministry modeled after that of Bishop Whipple and his first wife, Cornelia. Arriving here from Chicago in 1859, the couple had already served in dangerous areas of that city, connecting with people in tangible, helpful ways, much like we see Minnesotans stepping up and helping others today.
With a repeated directive to “always say no to evil,” Zotalis said Minnesotans have done just that since the invasion of our state by masked federal agents two months ago. He listed specifics: bringing food to people afraid to leave their homes, providing rides, offering free legal aid and peacefully protesting.
“Love your neighbor as yourself” was emphasized often in love-themed Scripture readings (Luke 10:27, I Corinthians 13:13, I John 4:11) during the Wednesday evening service. Like the good people of Minnesota today, Bishop Whipple showed that love long ago in his ministry to the Dakota people locally, across the state and during their imprisonment after the U.S.-Dakota War of 1862 at Fort Snelling, where the Whipple Federal Building is located. Whipple faced death threats for those who opposed his compassionate work with Native Americans.
Death. In a time of remembrance during Wednesday’s service, attendees could speak the names of “deceased and alive during this time of tragedy and strife.” I spoke first: “Renee Good.” Then another voice: “Alex Pretti.” And then an attendee read the names of 32 individuals who died in ICE detention in 2025. Thirty-two.
Many times my emotions verged on tears. As we asked, “Lord, keep this nation under your care.” As we sang “America the Beautiful.” As we prayed a Collect for Peace. As I thought of Jesus, who also lived in troubled times and who served with love and compassion.
Theme words of love, compassion, mercy and neighbor threaded throughout the service led by the reverends Zotalis and Henry Doyle. I could feel those words. And I could feel, too, the collective sense that we all needed this evening of prayer, scripture, Psalms, reflection and hymns to quiet our troubled spirits.
FYI: To watch a video of the service online, click here.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
Continuing to raise our Minnesota Strong voices in Faribault February 9, 2026
Tags: activism, commentary, Constitutional rights, Faribault, free speech, freedom, Immigration and Customs Enforcement, injustice, Minnesota, Minnesota Strong, news, protests, Rice County
I PULLED OUT my long johns, wool socks, stocking cap, mittens, hand warmers, winter boots and scarf. Then I pulled out my parka and my protest sign: STAND UP FOR HUMAN RIGHTS.
Just before 11 a.m. Saturday, Randy and I joined others outside the Rice County government services building along Minnesota State Highway 60 for our fourth protest there and the fifth in Faribault. Each week numbers grow, this time reaching some 80 of us stretched along the sidewalk with our signs.
We are not agitators or paid protesters as some claim, but rather ordinary Minnesotans united, called by our morals, our compassion, our concerns, to publicly say we are not OK with what is happening in this country. We are Minnesotans who care about immigrants and refugees, about freedom, about the Constitution, about due process and much more. We are concerned about the presence of ICE agents, whom we want out of our community, out of our state, after two-plus months of occupation.
And so we protest, week after week in our community an hour south of Minneapolis, because our city, too, has been impacted by ICE. People have been taken by federal agents from an apartment complex near the public library, by the railroad tracks near the turkey processing plant, from the trailer parks… It’s documented in videos. Warning horns blare, whistles sound, bystanders yell, sometimes. ICE has parked for hours in a neighborhood with Hispanic families. Watching, intimidating, silently threatening. Agents have photographed license plates at a gas station. This is reality in my city of 25,000.
School attendance has dropped. People are afraid to go to work, afraid to go grocery shopping and/or to food shelves (because ICE is watching), afraid to go to the doctor, afraid to leave their homes for fear of being taken by ICE. Legal status doesn’t seem to matter, only skin color, although even white people have been detained (with two killed) in Minnesota. Neighbors, churches and more have rallied to help with grocery shopping and delivery, walking kids to bus stops, giving co-workers rides. That support matters as does participating in protests. I’ve personally been thanked by Latinos and a Somali man for protesting.
This is why I’ve become an activist. This is why I use my voice as a writer and photographer. That is why I’ve started volunteering at a local food shelf. No one should live in fear of simply going about their daily lives. I am also doing this for my young grandchildren. I want them to understand the importance of speaking up for others. I want them to realize, when they are old enough, that their grandma did not remain silent in the face of atrocities inflicted by the federal government upon its people.
There is value in publicly taking a stand, especially in a city like mine which votes red. (Well, certainly not all of us.) Every protest brings out some who object to our activism as they drive by. That is their Constitutional right. They flash middle fingers, shout profanities, sometimes drive aggressively close, raging mad. That is not OK, potentially endangering people protesting in a public space. But we remain undeterred in raising our voices.
ON TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 10, a group of county residents are going to the Rice County Board of Commissioners meeting to speak about the impact of ICE on the community. That will happen during the open comments portion of the meeting at 8 a.m. I’m not part of that group, but was made aware of it. I’ve felt for a while that our local city and county government officials need to address this topic. ICE is certainly having a negative impact on the health, safety and well-being of county residents both directly and indirectly. That should not, and cannot, be ignored.
We must all do whatever we can, whenever we can, however we can to speak up, help and love our neighbors, and stand strong in the face of tyranny and injustice.
© Copyright 2026 Audrey Kletscher Helbling