“I Was in Prison, and You Visited Me”

Approximately one-fourth of CRC congregations are made up primarily of ethnic groups who identify as recent immigrants. We are sharing some of their stories to help paint a picture of what is happening today in the face of recent immigration changes and enforcement policies. The first story was from Texas, a second was from Wisconsin, and the following story is from Boston, Mass. 

When José Raúl Hernández reported to a U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) office in early November 2025, he did so knowing the decision could change life as he knew it. 

Hernández is a leader at Resurrection Church, a Christian Reformed congregation in Boston, Mass. He emigrated from Honduras in 2018 with his wife and two young children, fleeing a country marked by violence, political instability, and economic hardship. 

When they arrived at the U.S. border in El Paso, Tex., in 2018, Hernández and his family presented themselves to authorities and asked for protection. The family was detained for eight days, and the conditions of their detention were what Hernández would describe as dehumanizing, he said. 

“We sat on the floor holding our children,” Hernández shared. “There was no sunlight, no showers, no basic hygiene. We didn’t even know what time it was, and my children kept asking when we were leaving. I had no answer.”

During that detention, Hernández said he relied entirely on prayer and words that he remembered from Scripture. Confined in a small cell with his wife, children, and nearly 20 other people, he said, he sensed a growing desire to serve the people around him even as he felt deeply unprepared.

“I prayed that God would equip me to one day come back to a detention center and preach,” he said. “I wanted to help people understand what they were going through.”

After their release, Hernández and his family lived briefly in Massachusetts with a family member before moving to Houston, Tex., where they joined Vida Nueva CRC. There Hernández was mentored by Pastor Pablo Gaggero, who introduced him to Reformed theology. Hernandez described the theological framework as transformative.

“Discovering the Reformed faith changed how I understood God and Scripture,” Hernández said. “It was one of the greatest gifts of my life.” 

Following the disruptions of the COVID-19 pandemic, the family returned to Boston. Before and after moving, Hernández and his family remained in full compliance with ICE requirements, including regular check-ins and even wearing an ankle monitor for five months. 

“The ankle monitor assignment is basically a lottery; it’s a random decision, and I was assigned to wear one,” he explained. 

Through Pastor Gaggero, the family connected with Resurrection Church in Boston, where they were welcomed with warmth and care despite language barriers. Pastor Justin Ruddy and Pastor Kaitlin Ho Givens soon recognized Hernández’s spiritual maturity, leadership gifts, and call to ministry and encouraged him to pursue theological training.

He later connected with Pastor Marco Avila, Eastern USA regional mission leader with Resonate Global Mission, and Pastor Gianni Gracia, pastor of Vida y Esperanza CRC, Miami, Fla. Gracia is also the director of the Luke 10 pastoral training program, a 30-credit certificate program for training commissioned pastors (Church Order, Art. 23-24). 

Eventually Hernández also enrolled in an associate degree in theology through Revelation University, of which Gracia is president, and is now six classes away from graduating.

As Hernández began serving as a preaching assistant and moved toward ordination—with his exhortation exam scheduled for Mar. 4, 2026—he continued to grow, though not without moments of insecurity, he said. 

Preaching in English to a congregation he described as highly educated sometimes felt intimidating, said Hernández, yet he remained faithful to the calling placed before him. That season of preparation was abruptly interrupted in October 2025, however, when ICE notified Hernández that his routine check-ins would no longer be handled online and would instead require in-person reporting, a shift that filled the family with fear and uncertainty. 

“We felt something bad could happen,” Hernández said. 

After seeking legal advice and pastoral counsel, the family considered all options—including voluntarily returning to Honduras—but they ultimately decided to attend their appointment and report in person. 

On Nov. 5, 2025, Hernández arrived at the ICE office, accompanied by his wife, their pastor, and church members who offered spiritual and emotional support. They were told the case required further review and were instructed to return the following Monday.

At that point, they felt a growing certainty that something bad was about to happen. When they returned on Nov. 8, the church family again stood with them.

Out of fear, the Hernándezes had their children wait outside with church members. Inside, after turning in their paperwork, José Raúl Hernández was called into a separate room and informed he would be detained, without the opportunity to say goodbye to his wife.

“My lawyer tried to help and explained that I had no criminal record and served at church, but she was told it didn’t make any difference, that even terminal cancer patients are being detained,” said Hernández.

As officers took him into custody, Hernández chose gratitude over bitterness, he said. “I thanked the officer for doing what he was asked to do by his superiors,” he recalled. “He replied to me, ‘Thank you for serving God.’ He had heard what I was doing in my church.”

Hernández was placed in a holding cell with about 25 other men under conditions strikingly similar to his first detention: constant lighting, no beds or blankets, no privacy, and limited access to basic necessities.

Yet from the moment he arrived, Hernández began greeting the people around him and reframing the experience. “I told them it was a gift to be there together,” he shared. 

Without a Bible at first, he relied on his theological training to pray, teach, and encourage others. When a Bible was eventually brought in by another detainee, the men gathered to read and pray together. 

“Even in that place,” Hernández said, “when we prayed, the difficult circumstances seemed to fade.”

Hernandez learned that ICE initially planned to transfer him to Louisiana, a move that would likely have resulted in deportation. Later that night, his attorney filed a habeas corpus petition, and within hours a judge halted the transfer.

“My lawyer told me this never happens, and it was indeed a miracle,” Hernández said. 

Instead he was transferred to the Plymouth (Mass.) Detention Center, where an organized immigrant unit and an informal church community already existed. During his 15 days there, Hernández said, he preached regularly, led prayers, and provided pastoral care to fellow detainees. 

“God answered my prayer,” he said. “I was able to preach in a detention center—though I never expected it would be as a detainee. God answers prayers in unexpected ways.”

Some of the men Hernández met in detention attended Resurrection Church after their release, while others—detained for more than a year—encountered faith for the first time while inside.

Outside the detention center, Resurrection Church members, led by Pastor Ho Givens, mobilized quickly to support Hernández’s family. They covered rent and household expenses by opening a GoFundMe account, delivered daily meals, organized prayer and fasting gatherings, raised funds for legal costs, and gathered more than 50 letters of support for court proceedings, including letters from pastors with CRC Consejo Latino and Luke 10 professors. 

“Pastor Kaitlin was with us every step of the way,” Hernández shared. “She wasn’t just a pastor; she became an advocate.”

After Hernández’s release on bond, the church, together with Pastor Ho Givens, continued its ministry to detainees through pastoral visits, study Bibles, books, and Christmas gifts for dozens still in custody. 

“Many people inside have no one,” Hernández explained. “No family, no visitors, no support.” 

He recalled hearing men cry during phone calls with their children or spouses struggling to pay rent or buy food. “That pain stays with you,” he said. 

Today Hernández remains free while his case proceeds, and though the future remains uncertain, he views this season as a calling rather than a burden. “When guards ask who keeps visiting and sending books, they hear the same answer, Resurrection Church,” Hernández said. “That’s a testimony.”

Hernández hopes his story will encourage other CRC pastors and churches to engage more deeply with those in detention. “Sometimes all someone needs is a visit, a prayer, or help with calling family members abroad,” he said. 

During the interview for this story, Hernández received a call from a cellmate whose mother in Ecuador has a terminal illness, and with whom he regularly checks in to pass along updates.

“Even bringing toys to the child of someone who is incarcerated helps them know that God is with them and gives them hope,” Hernández said. “It brings a smile to a child who is suffering the absence of a parent. God is already at work, and he is with those who are in prison. He simply asks us to go.”