Saturday, July 11, 2026

 

From Augustine to Jefferson, the idea of separating church and state has deep religious and secular roots

(The Conversation) — The Trump administration’s Religious Liberty Commission argues that religious freedom is under attack and blames the ‘wall of separation’ between church and state.
The founding generation: James Madison, left, and Thomas Jefferson, both proponents of the separation of church and state. (Photo12/Universal Images Group via Getty Images)

(The Conversation) — The Trump administration’s Religious Liberty Commission released its report on June 26, 2026, on the state of religious freedom in the United States, declaring it to be under attack.

The commission was established in May 2025 to identify and report on “emerging threats to religious liberty, uphold Federal laws that protect all citizens’ full participation in a pluralistic democracy, and protect the free exercise of religion.” Despite those altruistic goals, from the beginning, the commission faced criticism that the composition and agenda of the body were slanted toward a conservative Christian perspective.

The commission conducted seven hearings over the course of a year, taking testimony from approximately 100 witnesses.

The draft report recounts numerous incidents of reputed bias and mistreatment of people based on their religious faith, and it places the blame on bureaucrats who exhibit a disdain for demonstrations of religious conviction. The report attributes much of this to the use of “the metaphor ‘wall of separation of church and state’ to justify excluding religious Americans from equal participation in the public square.”

As author of the book “Separating Church and State: A History,” I argue that the commission’s broadside on the concept of separation of church and state is misplaced, but not new. Critics have portrayed the idea as anti-religious and ahistorical ever since the Supreme Court embraced it in 1947.

Jefferson’s ‘wall of separation’

In the 1947 landmark case of Everson vs. Board of Education, involving public financial aid for religious education, the justices announced that they would use the concept of church-state separation as a guide for interpreting the religion clauses of the First Amendment to the Constitution. Those clauses state “that Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.”

In that same decision, the justices also employed the metaphor of “a wall of separation between church and state,” a phrase borrowed from an 1802 letter from President Thomas Jefferson to an association of Baptist churches in Connecticut. At the time, the Baptists were a minority in a state that still maintained a religious establishment. Jefferson sympathized with their plight, employing the wall of separation metaphor to emphasize that “religion is a matter which lies solely between man and his God” and not to “the legislative powers of government.”

Tradition of separation

The idea of separate spheres of spiritual and secular functions and authority was advanced by religious and secular thinkers to benefit both religion and the state.

In his fifth century work “City of God,” St. Augustine advanced the model of two entities, one spiritual and the other temporal or earthly, each with separate authority and functions. Augustine went so far as to use an image of two walled cities separated from each other as a means to protect the purity of the church.

During the Protestant Reformation of the 16th century, both Martin Luther and John Calvin distinguished spiritual from earthly authority and called for a division of labor between the two. Luther distinguished “two kingdoms” – a spiritual kingdom and a temporal kingdom that had separate authority.

Similarly, Calvin wrote that “Christ’s spiritual Kingdom and the civil jurisdiction are things completely distinct” and, as such, “must always be considered separately” because of the great “difference and unlikeness … between ecclesiastical and civil power.”

The metaphor of a ‘wall of separation’

At the same time, religious reformers were employing concepts of walls, hedges or other barriers to ensure that the secular and religious realms remained apart.

Protestant Anabaptists – Mennonites, Hutterites, Brethren – took the theological idea of separationism to heart, seeking to keep their communities apart from what they saw as the corruptions of the fallen world. They were declining to swear oaths of allegiance to civil authorities or otherwise participate in civic functions.

The early leader of the Mennonites, Menno Simons, used the term a “separating wall” to illustrate the degree of separateness their faith required from civil authority.

Finally, Roger Williams, the Puritan-turned-Baptist founder of Rhode Island, advocated for complete religious liberty. He called for maintaining a “hedge, or wall of separation, between the garden of the church and the wilderness of the world.”

Enlightenment figures, such as John Locke, also advanced notions of separation of church and state. In 1689, Locke wrote that the church must be “absolutely separate and distinct from the commonwealth and civil affairs. The boundaries on both sides are fixed and immovable.”

Influential British writer James Burgh called for building “an impenetrable wall of separation between things sacred and civil … the less the church and state had to do with one another, it would be better for both.” Scholars believe that this was likely one source for Jefferson’s famous 1802 letter to the Connecticut Baptists where he used the same metaphor.

A familiar concept

Thus, members of the America’s founding generation were familiar with the concept of distinct spheres of authority between religion and government and the necessity of keeping those functions separate.

Even though Jefferson used the wall metaphor only once, he worked assiduously throughout his life to advance religious freedom via church-state separation. James Madison employed similar imagery, such as calling for “a great barrier” between the two.

Church-state separation wasn’t just an imagery idea; it was a concept that many people embraced. As Madison wrote, “religion & Govt. will both exist in greater purity, the less they are mixed together.”

As a result, to this day, many denominations and religiously affiliated groups, such as many Baptists, Seventh-day Adventists and members of Reform Judaism, among others, support the separation of church and state as essential for maintaining religious freedom.

And church-state separation continues to receive popular support. According to the Pew Research Center, in 2026, 54% of Americans say the government should enforce church-state separation – a consistent percentage – whereas only 13% believe it should stop enforcing it, down from 19% in 2021.

Narrow view

Despite this pedigree, the Religious Liberty Commission’s report expresses particular disdain for the “wall” metaphor, stating that “the ‘wall of separation’ phrase does not appear in the First Amendment or anywhere else in the Constitution.” The report calls it a “belabored metaphor” that “can wrongly imply that church and state are opposed to one another and must remain completely separate.”

The report also takes a narrow view of what is prohibited by the religion clauses: “that the government may not officially prefer one religion over another, take over the functions of a church, or coerce religious observance,” which would otherwise allow for other types of church-state intermixing such as government funding of religious education.

In her final opinion as a Supreme Court justice in 2005, Sandra Day O’Connor – a judicial conservative – reflected on the importance of church-state separation to guarantee full religious freedom.

“The First Amendment expresses our Nation’s fundamental commitment to religious liberty by means of two provisions – one protecting the free exercise of religion, the other barring establishment of religion.”

She concluded with a challenge: “Those who would renegotiate the boundaries between church and state must therefore answer a difficult question: Why would we trade a system that has served us so well for one that has served others so poorly?”

That the commission’s report ignores the benefit of church-state separation to American society is troubling.

(Steven K. Green, Director of the Center for Religion, Law & Democracy, Willamette University. The views expressed in this commentary do not necessarily reflect those of Religion News Service.)








The Conversation

From ancient texts to modern practices, Daoism provides a profound framework for understanding the world not as broken but as naturally seeking balance

(The Conversation) — Daoism approaches the world not from the perspective that the world is broken or needs to be saved, but rather that it is naturally balanced.


The 'Three Pure Ones,' the deities considered the most pure representation of the Dao. (Unknown author via Wikimedia Commons)

Michael Naparstek
July 7, 2026 
RNS

(The Conversation) — Daoism, China’s indigenous religion, is one of the country’s five officially recognized religions today. Practiced by millions of people in China and around the world, Daoism takes on many forms, stretching back from ancient roots to the modern world.

It challenges the conventions of how people often define religion. Unlike many other faiths, Daoism does not necessarily center on a deity, though there are many Daoist deities. Nor does it have a unified system of beliefs or follow a singular authoritative doctrine.

In fact, followers say the Dao, which literally means the “way,” cannot be truly explained. Rather, it is often viewed as something like a mysterious, balanced cosmic force. Daoist practices, then, are based on the premise that everything that makes up the world emanates from the Dao.

Daoism approaches the world not from the perspective that the world is broken or needs to be saved, but rather that it is naturally balanced. When things go wrong, Daoist, also referred to as Taoist, practice seeks to bring the world back into harmony with the Dao.

As a scholar of Daoist ritual, I am interested in the diversity of Daoism’s ideas and practices.
These include rituals related to cosmic realms, guidance for navigating the challenges of daily life and even the worship of powerful deities. Many of these practices stretch back thousands of years, offering a window into China’s religious and cultural past.
The Dao

Early textual sources describe the Dao not in terms of what it is but rather what it does.

The Daodejing – “The Classic of the Way and its Power” – is the first known text to articulate the Dao as the source of all things. Composed sometime during the fourth century B.C.E. by the legendary figure Laozi, it states, “The Dao begets the One, the One begets the Two, the Two begets the Three, the Three begets the 10,000 things.” In other words, everything we can see and know can be traced back to the Dao.

Intentionally vague and obscure, the Daodejing would go on to inspire various interpretations ranging from philosophical reflections to how to realize the Dao in everyday practice.

Other early texts describe the Dao through illustrative anecdotes. For example, the fourth century B.C.E. author Zhuangzi describes the Dao through often humorous anecdotes. One of the most well-known vignettes asks whether a dozing Zhuangzi dreams that he is a butterfly or whether he is a butterfly dreaming that he’s Zhuangzi.



Zhuangzi’s ‘Dreaming of a Butterfly,’ by 18th-century Japanese painter Ike no Taiga.
Ike no Taiga (1723–1776) via Wikimedia Commons

Through deceptively simple illustrations, the book attributed to Zhuangzi, which is also known as the “Zhuangzi,” artfully raises complicated questions on the relationship between our world and how we know what we think we know.
Balancing with the Dao

While Daoism asserts that the world is naturally balanced, it recognizes that sometimes it gets out of order. This is where Daoist practice steps in to help.

Daoist practice includes sophisticated rituals and visualization techniques to align one’s own body with the rhythms of the world. Practitioners understand their own bodies to be a microcosm of the entire cosmos based on the idea that everything stems from the same Dao.

Daoists believe these practices help their own longevity and also rebalance the world at large through their connection to the Dao.

Daoist ideas of alchemy play an important role in this relationship. In general, Daosist alchemy is understood as distilling elements of the world into potent spiritual essences. Daoist specialized practices aim to recombine those essences – known as “jing” – into spiritual potency.

In its earliest forms, beginning in the second century B.C.E., Daoist alchemical practices would mix rare ingredients from the earth to transform them into what they believed to be “elixirs of immortality.”

Subsequent centuries witnessed these practices moving away from physical ingredients, such as rare plants and minerals, to become more focused on visualization techniques. This form of “inner alchemy,” or “neidan,” does not use actual ingredients but rather focuses on distilling the spiritual essences within one’s own body to achieve immortality.


An illustration of the inner alchemy, or ‘neidan,’ depicting what Daoists believe to be the landscape inside one’s own body and how one can visualize the figures within.
Neidan via Wikimedia Commons

To do so, practitioners of “inner alchemy” would call upon new hosts of Daoist deities to aid them in their internal processes.
Daoist figures – deities and masters

There is no single, authoritative Daoist collection of deities. Rather, various Daoist traditions have their own preferred deities they revere based on their own particular histories and practices.

Still, some figures appear across pantheons. The Three Pure Ones, known as the Sanqing, are understood to be the most pure representation of the Dao. They consist of three figures, including Laozi, who often appear in rituals on painted ritual scrolls as Daoists seated on imperial thrones.

These three deities are thought to be personifications of the Dao who inhabit the highest realms of the Daoist cosmos, far from the dust of day-to-day life. To reach them, Daoists perform rituals to take the long journey all the way to the court of the Three Pure Ones in order to have an audience and report on the merits of the community.

Some Daoist communities refer to Laozi as “Lord Lao Most High,” or “Taishang Laojun.” The earliest Daoist community, known as the Celestial Masters, believed that their founder, Zhang Daoling, had made a special contract with the deified Laozi that would protect them through a cataclysmic end of times.

As the influence of the Daoism of Celestial Masters spread, Zhang Daoling would also come to be seen as a powerful deity in his own right, often depicted with bulging eyes and wearing a red robe, accompanied by a tiger.


Zhang Daoling.
Werner, E. T. C. (1864-1954) via Wikimedia Commons

One of the most mysterious Daoist deities is the popular Perfect Warrior, or Zhenwu. Zhenwu’s roots stretch back to ancient days as the god of the North, when he was often depicted as a turtle entwined with a snake.

Later on, Zhenwu took a human form, often shown wearing robes or armor, with long black hair flowing behind him, bare feet, and holding a sword or banner emblazoned with the Big Dipper.


Zhenwu, god of the North.
George and Mary Rockwell Collection, Herbert F. Johnson Museum of Art via Wikimedia

By the Ming dynasty, which ruled from 1368 to 1644, Zhenwu had become the patron deity of the imperial household. Known for his command of ferocious demon-quelling deities, Zhenwu remains a popular deity in Daoist exorcist rituals in places such as Taiwan.

Daoism also incorporates many deities from Chinese mythology and other religious traditions, such as Buddhism. Among the most prominent are the popular Eight Immortals, whose wild adventures often culminate with a lesson on the natural order.

Other ubiquitous Chinese deities, such as the regal Jade Emperor, the faithful warrior Guan Yu, the wondrous savior Mazu, and the demon-quelling Zhong Kui, fill both the popular imagination and the stuff of Daoist ritual.


Portion of a scroll entitled ‘Zhong Kui Traveling with his Sister,’ by Gong Kai, an artist said to have lived from 1222-1304.
The University of Washington via Wikimedia

Many of these figures can now be found in movies, books and even video games, but they have their roots in the rituals and myths of Daoism.
The various forms of Daoism today

Throughout its history, Daoism never lost touch with the local traditions. Local gods and even vengeful ghosts come to be incorporated into Daoist pantheons, where they now serve to keep troublesome spirits from upsetting the community. As a result, Daoism continues to be an integral part of everyday life.

In places such as Taiwan, Daoist priests can be seen today conducting rituals at community temples and annual festivals. In mainland China, Daoism continues to be practiced in some of the most important and ancient sites of Chinese culture, such as the eighth-century “White Cloud Abbey” in Beijing.

Meanwhile, those outside China remain fascinated by Daoism, as well, with new translations of the Daodejing hitting the market every year.

As such, Daoism maintains its complex and diverse nature well into the modern era, still striving to bring it all back into balance with the Dao.

(Michael Naparstek, Associate Teaching Professor Religious Studies, University of Tennessee. The views expressed in this commentary do not necessarily reflect those of Religion News Service.)


Sanskrit prayers and dosas: Inside one of the oldest Hindu temples in the US

(RNS) — Å ri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam, the second-oldest traditional Hindu temple built by Indian immigrants, marked the anniversary of its consecration on July 4.


The Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam temple, July 4, 2026,
 in Flushing, Queens, in New York. (RNS photo/Madhiha Anis)


Madhiha Anis
July 7, 2026
 RNS


FLUSHING, N.Y. (RNS) — Temple bells echoed through the sanctuary as priests chanted Sanskrit prayers before black granite deities draped in silk and fresh flowers. Barefoot worshippers carrying coconuts, bananas and jasmine garlands moved from shrine to shrine as families from across the country gathered to mark the anniversary of the Hindu Temple Society of North America’s consecration, a tradition observed each year on the same date the U.S. celebrates its founding.

The date is fitting. The Hindu Temple Society of North America, officially called Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnamri, is the second-oldest traditional Hindu temple founded by Indian immigrants in the United States. It opened its doors on July 4, 1977, after years of fundraising and planning by Indian immigrants who had settled in the New York metropolitan area. Sri Venkateswara Temple in Pennsylvania, the first traditional Hindu temple founded by Indian immigrants, was consecrated only a few weeks earlier on June 8, 1977.

After passage of the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965 abolished the national-origins quota system, there was a surge in immigration from Asia, including India. Many who arrived entered the U.S. through employment-based visas, particularly in management, business and science fields. The new Indian immigrants wanted a place of worship and created the Hindu Temple Society of North America, which purchased the site of a former Russian Orthodox church in Flushing, Queens.

Now, nearly 50 years later, the Hindu Temple Society of North America counts more than 20,000 devotees on its mailing list, and there are an estimated 1,000 Hindu temples, including traditional temples like this Queens temple, spread out over 45 states. Å ri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam, nonetheless, still draws worshippers from across the United States. Last Saturday (July 4), as the U.S. marked its 250th anniversary, more than 100 people came to Flushing to celebrate the temple’s anniversary.

Worshippers filled the temple from early morning, as early as 7:30 a.m., lining up with trays of fruit, coconuts and flowers as priests performed special pujas, a Hindu ceremony involving prayers and offerings to the deities, throughout the day. Families gathered in front of the temple’s shrines before making their way downstairs to share a meal in the bustling canteen, where volunteers poured steaming sambar over plates of idli and crisp dosas. Some had come for breakfast. Others were on their way upstairs for morning worship. Many were there for both.


People use the canteen at the Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam temple, July 4, 2026, in Flushing, Queens, in New York. (RNS photo/Madhiha Anis)

Opened in 1993, the canteen has become one of New York City’s best-known destinations for South Indian vegetarian cuisine, drawing Hindi worshippers alongside neighborhood residents, students and tourists, who often visit the temple after stopping for a meal.
RELATED: In visit to Hindu temple, King Charles demonstrates power of presence in a divided world

Beyond daily worship, the temple hosts religious festivals, cultural celebrations and educational programs throughout the year. Its Ganeša Pãtašãla, a religious and cultural school established in 1998, offers instruction in Hindu religion, Indian languages, classical music and Bharatanatyam dance, giving children and young adults an opportunity to learn the traditions and practices of Hinduism alongside their cultural heritage.

But last weekend, many who visited were drawn to Lord Ganesha, the elephant-headed Hindu deity revered as a remover of obstacles. The temple, dedicated to Lord Ganesha, has always attracted devotees seeking blessings before milestones — starting a new job, welcoming a child, beginning a new chapter. Throughout the afternoon, worshippers streamed through the temple carrying bags of prasadam after offering prayers.

Some had traveled only a few subways stops; others had driven or flown in from hundreds of miles away.

The Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam temple, July 4, 2026, in Flushing, Queens, in New York. (RNS photo/Madhiha Anis)
An entrance to the Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam temple, July 4, 2026, in Flushing, Queens, in New York. (RNS photo/Madhiha Anis)

For Jai Yaram, a married 34-year-old who immigrated from India to the United States several years ago, the temple has become a familiar part of his new life. A frequent visitor, he said the temple helped him adjust to the U.S. by giving him a spiritual connection to India. “It gives me a lot of peace,” Yaram said, noting worshippers do pujas — a traditional prayer — every day. “It brings the values from India here. I hope this temple stands forever, because I came here as an immigrant, and gradually I’m progressing.”

Another visitor, Sai Yash, 34, from Wichita, Kansas, spoke of that same pull toward Ganesha.

“I came from Wichita, Kansas, after hearing that this is one of the finest temples,” Yash said. “Whenever we begin something, a new job, the first prayer we do is to Ganesha. That’s why we came to this temple.”



The Šri Mahã Vallabha Ganapati Devasthãnam temple, July 4, 2026, in Flushing, Queens, in New York. (RNS photo/Madhiha Anis)

Others made the journey to celebrate family milestones. Dharti Adhia traveled from Cincinnati with her husband and their 11-month-old child, making the Ganesh Temple one of the family’s first stops during their July 4 visit to New York. The visit fulfilled a promise she had made to herself years earlier. “The first time I came here, I remember thinking that one day I’d bring my baby here,” she said. “This place has always felt very special.”
In East India, a Marian shrine draws in Christian, Hindu and Muslim pilgrims

(RNS) — The historic Catholic minor basilica attracts thousands of pilgrims annually — the majority of them Hindu and Muslim — seeking what they call the power of the divine feminine from the Virgin Mary.


Devotees pray at the Basilica of the Holy Rosary, locally known as the Bandel Church, on May 30, 2026, near Kolkata, India. (Photo by Priyadarshini Sen)


Priyadarshini Sen
July 9, 2026   
RNS

BANDEL, India (RNS) — Each week for the last 13 years, 28-year-old Rimpa Chowdhury, who describes herself as a devout Hindu, has visited the Basilica of the Holy Rosary — a historic 16th-century Catholic church on the banks of the Hooghly River in eastern India with a shrine to the Virgin Mary.

For Chowdhury, the Bandel Church, as it is known locally, is more than a place where her prayers have been answered. Its vast riverside grounds, 50 miles north of Kolkata, the capital of West Bengal, are where she has found community and peace.

“There’s something about this place,” said Chowdhury, wearing a loose green tunic. “A shrine becomes something else when a woman has power over it.”

Over decades, thousands of pilgrims — the majority of them Muslims and Hindus — have been visiting the basilica for feast days every year, led by what they call the “power of the divine feminine” — their belief in the power of Mary, the mother of Jesus.


The Basilica of the Holy Rosary in Bandel, India, near Kolkata. It was declared a minor basilica by Pope John Paul II in 1988. (Photo courtesy of Wikimedia/Creative Commons)

Against its grand façade, featuring soaring arches and a vaulted-ceiling nave of ancient murals, a statue of Mary, “Our Lady of Happy Voyage,” stands out as the main attraction. Sailors and travelers visit her shrine frequently, praying for protection from danger. In 1988, Pope John Paul II declared the historic sanctuary a minor basilica, recognizing the church’s spiritual significance.

According to historical records, Catholic Augustinian friars and Portuguese traders settled in this region of Bengal in the late 16th century. Portugal’s monarchy tied Marian devotion to their colonial conquests, placing their outposts under the protection of the Virgin Mary.


An entrance to the Basilica of the Holy Rosary, locally known as the Bandel Church, on the outskirts of Kolkata, India. (Photo by Priyadarshini Sen)

Although the original church, built in 1599, was destroyed during an invasion by Muslim rulers of the Portuguese outpost in 1632 and again by an earthquake, legends say the rescue of Mary’s statue from the depths of the Hooghly River cemented her place as a divine protector.

“In Bengal, the goddess is revered as the ultimate primordial force in the universe,” said Father John Chalil, lead priest of the Bandel Church. “Devotees from all over India come here seeking sanctuary, and the nuns cater to their various needs.”

Since the 1950s, Chalil says, nuns from five congregations have been serving at the shrine and building social harmony in an area dotted with terracotta temples, mosques and churches. Local communities lean on each other, often transcending religious differences.


The shrine community around the church stretches across several villages — each village informally named after Marian apparitions, including Our Lady of Fatima and Our Lady of Vailankanni (Good Health).



People pass through Bandel, India, on May 30, 2026, near Kolkata. 
(Photo by Priyadarshini Sen)

The harmony is historically rooted. Though once a vital Portuguese outpost on the Hooghly River, the town of Bandel has evolved into a shared space where people of all faiths venerate local shrines. The church’s community programs reach non-Christian populations.

“We go to the surrounding villages to educate the masses about women’s rights and tribal welfare,” said Sister Nirmala, a nun involved with spiritual work at Bandel for more than 15 years. “Religious differences have not interfered with people’s faith in Mary.”

The nuns have been offering spiritual nourishment to the devotees and smoothing sectarian differences despite the growing religious polarization in India.

Those with Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity provide vital care and health services in the nearby areas. The Missionary Sisters of Mary Immaculate offer retreats and counseling to pilgrims, and the Auxilium Convent Sisters run a boarding home for young, underprivileged girls, providing them an education and assistance to live independently after graduation.


Nuns pray at the Basilica of the Holy Rosary, locally known as the Bandel Church, on May 30, 2026, near Kolkata, India. (Photo by Priyadarshini Sen)

Sister Philomena Mathew, a nun with the Missionary Sisters of Mary Help of Christians, another Catholic order in the local community, is concerned about the growing attacks on Christians across the country.

“We’re willing to confront anyone who obstructs the peace and harmony in this region,” she said.

Anti-Christian violence spearheaded by Hindu nationalist mobs has escalated across India since Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) came to power in 2014. Vigilante groups have disrupted prayer gatherings, vandalized church properties and assaulted pastors and nuns, accusing them without evidence of forcibly converting Hindus to Christianity.

“Last year there were 831 attacks against Christians in India,” said AC Michael, the national coordinator for United Christian Forum, a New Delhi-based human rights coalition that advocates for the rights of religious minorities. “From isolated localized incidents, the violence has become systemic, operating through a network of persecutions.”

Even though West Bengal has in the past been a safer state for religious minorities compared to the rest of the country, the recent election of a BJP state government has sparked apprehension, with attacks against Christians rising in the region.


Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity, a global Catholic order founded in Kolkata, has been coming under severe scrutiny from Hindu nationalist organizations, which claim its charitable work is aimed at converting vulnerable Hindus to Christianity. In December 2021, India’s Ministry of Home Affairs revoked the organization’s license, but reversed its decision after weeks of pushback.

Mother Teresa shown with an Indian child in 1977. (RNS archive photo)

“If nuns from the Missionaries of Charity were able to fend off attacks from religious extremists, I’m sure nuns at Bandel will also keep the community safe,” Michael said.

Mother Teresa visited Bandel Church in 1995, two years before her death. Her work in the region was centered on maintaining a mutually supportive relationship with the local Salesian order.

The town of Bandel has not been a focal point of targeted minority violence, but the broader region has occasionally witnessed political and festival-related communal clashes. On July 5, a mob barged into a newly constructed church south of Kolkata, threatening the congregants and vandalizing crosses.

“It’s the vision of the great saints that we are carrying forward,” said Sister Jesline Rose, a nun with the Missionary Sisters of Mary Immaculate who serves at the church. “No doubt the political landscape in Bengal is changing, but we’ll keep our pluralistic spirit alive.”

Rose and her fellow nuns regularly visit Hindu and Muslim families in the neighborhood to offer spiritual support and solace to individuals facing personal and medical hardships.


The altar and interior of the Basilica of the Holy Rosary near Kolkata, India. (Photo by Priyadarshini Sen)

The pilgrims, aided by the nuns, write down their prayer intentions on small slips of paper that are dropped into the wish box located near the statue of the Virgin Mary.

During festivals and winter walk pilgrimages, the nuns manage thousands of devotees — mostly Muslims and Christians — who congregate on the grounds to unite in thanksgiving.

The church is the unifying cultural monument for the devotees, and the nuns, its custodians.

They believe the power of the divine feminine in Bengal — from the Virgin Mary to Hindu goddesses Kali and Durga — will help them fight off threats from religious extremists.

“We look to the nuns for hope,” said Chowdhury, who lives in the narrow alleyways behind Bandel Church, a neighborhood of mostly Hindu and Muslim families. She’s anxious about the rising religious intolerance in the country, which she believes could trickle down to Bengal. The nuns “embody the power of Mother Mary, who is the protector of all devotees at our church,” she said.



Inside a Christian mother's fight against ICE activity in Chicago

(RNS) — The second episode of ‘Faith on the Immigration Frontline' follows Audrey Luhmann, mother of eight, as she patrols courthouses, responds to community alerts, gathers supplies for immigrants and cares for her family.
Audrey Luhmann with her son, Ben, in December 2025, while tracking federal ICE activity in Chicago. (Video screen grab)

CHICAGO (RNS) — The first thing Audrey Luhmann does when she wakes up is check her phone for reports of federal immigration enforcement activity in the Chicago area. A mother of eight and devout Christian, Luhmann and her family have been part of a volunteer network tracking and documenting federal enforcement actions since September 2025, when the Trump administration launched “Operation Midway Blitz,” a mass deportation campaign. 

“Every day since September has been a day of unknowns,” she said. “So we don’t know if we’re going to be home an hour from now.”

In between documenting what she describes as “anything illegal” she and her family see during enforcement actions, including arrests without a judicial warrant, use of force and traffic violations, Luhmann also collects food, clothing and other supplies for immigrant families and people released from detention. Off and on during the week, she helps care for a baby whose father was deported and whose mother was recently diagnosed with cancer.

Her two teenage sons, Ben and Sam, also have traveled to Minneapolis in the aftermath of the killing of Renee Good to document ICE actions. 

“They are actually doing everything that I’ve taught them,” Luhmann said. “I’ve spent my entire life telling them that Jesus was with those who were oppressed, that Jesus was with those who the rest of the world pushed away.”