A Troubling Dispensation: When Church Leaders Undermine the Eucharist and the Soul

A bishop in California has given a Mass dispensation to undocumented (aka illegal) immigrants fearing deportation. Where was this compassion when abuse survivors were fleeing the Church in fear, anger, pain, and betrayal? Many survivors continue to be left to suffer in silence. They’ve been told to “get over it” or been told that leaving the Church meant abandoning Christ, only adding to their shame and guilt. Every human being, every soul matters. But selective compassion deeply wounds the body of Christ.

+JMJ+ Recently, the Bishop of San Bernardino issued a sweeping dispensation from the Sunday Mass obligation for all undocumented immigrants in his diocese, citing fears of deportation. While some have praised this as an act of pastoral sensitivity, I believe it sends a spiritually dangerous and deeply confusing message. It is one that calls for reflection, correction, and prayer.

The Catholic Church is a home for all peoples. It is a field hospital, a place of healing and compassion, and a place for those wounded by sin or any kind of suffering. It is a place where we grow closer to God and strive to grow in holiness.

Every human person is made in God’s image and deserves dignity, respect, and love. As Catholics, we are called to serve one another regardless of our social status. We are called to welcome the stranger and to defend the weak and vulnerable. That includes everyone, not just those who have entered a country illegally. Everyone also includes people such as law enforcement officers, public servants, and Catholics who strive to follow both civil and divine law, often at great personal cost.

This bishop’s dispensation may claim to comfort the fearful, but it does far more harm than good. It misleads the faithful, undermines law and order, and weakens our understanding of the Eucharist as the source and summit of the Christian life.

Compassion Without Truth Isn’t Charity. It’s Confusion.

The underlying message here is: Jesus is important, unless a relationship with Him might cost you something.

That is not the faith handed down to us.

Early Christians risked torture and death to worship Christ. Soldiers at war have celebrated Mass in trenches. Prisoners have found ways to worship behind bars. There have been many times (even recently) of unrest and fear due to persecution and times of violent attacks on Christians here in the United States. Catholics in China, Africa, and many parts of the world risk their lives just to attend Mass. They are sometimes forced to worship in secret, underground communities. Even survivors of clerical sexual abuse—deeply wounded by harm and betrayal—have (in many cases) courageously fought to return to the sacraments. Some have been quietly granted private dispensations out of sincere spiritual necessity, but rarely have we seen an entire class of people excused from Mass.

The groups I mentioned are under attack simply because they are Catholic. Yet, a bishop is giving a specific group of individuals a dispensation simply because they are afraid of lawful consequences for violating the law. Fear of those consequences does not automatically justify exemptions from moral or spiritual obligations, especially when those laws are not evil in themselves.

This is not mercy. It’s spiritual malpractice.

It sets a dangerous precedent. It confuses compassion with compromise and weakens the Church’s moral clarity in a time that desperately needs it.

A Dispensation with Consequences

Let’s be honest about what this bishop’s letter communicates. Whether intended or not:

• It diminishes the importance of the Eucharist. It implies the Sunday obligation is negotiable, not vital. It undermines the church’s teaching on sin and the Real Presence.

• It encourages spiritual complacency. Rather than calling all Catholics to holiness and courage, it gives permission to retreat (spiritually and physically) even from Christ Himself.

• It undermines respect for civil law. Romans 13 is clear: just authorities are instituted by God for the common good. When a bishop offers public dispensation rooted in fear of (for example) ICE or any law enforcement agency, it casts those in law enforcement as oppressors rather than as men and women fulfilling their lawful duty. In this country, law enforcement officers are typically not persecutors of the Church. Many are simply upholding immigration laws. Every sovereign nation has laws. Painting law enforcement as villains only feeds into dangerous narratives, putting them and their families at great personal risk.

• It fosters a troubling double standard. An American citizen who drives without a license, ignores a court order, or violates other civil laws typically faces consequences when caught. Yet, if the same is done by someone here illegally, oftentimes we’re told it’s uncharitable to object. Are we really saying that one group deserves understanding while another deserves none? Where is the compassion and justice in that? Yes, immigration can have its gray areas and there have certainly been cases to raise concern about the fairness of immigration laws.

• It disorients the faithful. Many Catholics are left asking: Where was this bold pastoral concern during COVID, when churches were closed and we were left feeling confused, alone, and shepherd-less? Where has it been when abuse survivors begged to be heard? Is pastoral care now reserved only for those whose stories align with certain political narratives?

What About the Soul?

The greatest tragedy here is not political. It’s eternal.

For Catholics, missing Mass on Sunday, unless for serious reason, is a grave sin. Keeping the Lord’s Day holy is the third commandment. To grant a public dispensation based on fear of lawful arrest (without requiring deeper spiritual discernment or calling for courage in faith) severely lowers the bar of discipleship. It teaches that the Eucharist is optional in hardship and not essential for salvation.

Realistically, ICE is not storming Catholic churches in search of every undocumented immigrant. If federal agents were to enter a church, it would likely be for a serious and specific reason. We need to stop comparing ICE operations to Nazi raids. These comparisons are not only historically inaccurate but also deeply irresponsible. Such rhetoric distorts the truth, undermines constructive dialogue, and leads to fear. As I’ve talked about previously, it also places the men and women of law enforcement in an even more dangerous situation because of the hate and retaliation they often receive as a result of this kind of inflammatory language.

Are we really willing to say that the fear of facing the consequences of our actions outweighs the infinite value of the Eucharist? Are we saying the risk of lawful consequence is too high a price to pay for the Bread of Life?

The Church must be clearer than ever: Nothing matters more than the soul. We are of course responsible for our own souls, but we are also to do our best to bring other souls to Heaven with us! Our church leaders are supposed to aid us in that.

We Need Bishops Who Call Us Higher

This is not a call for cruelty or political posturing. Of course we need immigration reform. We must offer help to those trying to make a better life. However, we cannot encourage people to ignore just laws, remain in hiding, or neglect their duties to God. We cannot model a Christianity that expects nothing, costs nothing, and demands nothing.

What we need are bishops and pastors who speak truth with love—who uphold both mercy and justice, law and grace. We need strong men who will not feed their flocks excuses but rather offer them true spiritual nourishment. We need leaders who understand that Christ is worth any risk, and that holiness cannot flourish in the shadows.

Real Compassion Honors Both Suffering and Truth

We must also remember: some do flee true persecution—religious, political, or otherwise. They are not simply seeking a better life in this country but basic human dignity and the freedom to worship, speak, and live without fear. For these individuals, asylum exists for a reason and rightly so. Yet, even in these painful situations, no one is excused from seeking the truth and following just laws. If someone must cross the border in desperation, then for their own good (and the good of the country receiving them) they must take the next step: come forward, follow the legal process, and walk in the light. True compassion does not abandon truth. It calls others higher. It says: Yes, we see your suffering, but let’s face it with integrity and hope!

Let Us Pray

Let us pray for our priests, bishops, and all who shepherd the Church that they may lead with wisdom, courage, and unwavering fidelity to Christ. Let us pray for those who have entered this country illegally, that God may guide them in truth, provide for their needs, and draw them closer to His heart. Let us pray for the brave men and women in law enforcement who risk their lives each day to uphold justice and preserve peace. May they act with integrity, discernment, and compassion. Let us pray for one another (and for the Church as a whole) that we may never lose sight of our mission: to proclaim the Gospel, uphold truth in love, and lead souls to eternal life.

Nothing is worth more than our immortal souls. Nothing on this earth—no fear, no politics, no policy—should ever take precedence over the Eucharist, the source and summit of our faith. Our call is holiness. Our mission is Heaven. Let us never forget what is truly at stake.