(RNS) — On Friday afternoons, a collective of Christian and Muslim faith communities gets together in Cedar-Riverside, the largest Somali neighborhood in Minnesota, after jumah (Friday prayers). Neighbors gather and simply share Somali tea and coffee, greeting each other while forming relationships.

One of the Christian pastors, the Rev. Jane Buckley-Farlee, involved in this activity explains: “All we do is serve tea and coffee, be friendly, talk, and say, ‘We’re glad you’re here.’ People walk out from Friday prayers and, seeing people gathered, are moved — and they remember. It’s really powerful.” 

This gathering has been happening since President Donald Trump’s first travel ban on several Muslim-majority countries in 2017, when people from the Somali community expressed fear of being targeted for persecution from the U.S. government. And those Friday afternoons continue to be a beautiful example of religious hospitality that creates safe space for relationships and community building.

Today, the fear in the Somali community is palpable, after Trump earlier this month referred to Somalis as “garbage” and “people that do nothing but complain,” and said he didn’t want them in the U.S. Minnesota, famous for its snow and cold, is home to the highest concentration of Somali people outside of Mogadishu — most of them born in the U.S.

“People are afraid to be in public. They’re being retraumatized,” shares Buckley-Farlee.

Hijabs and kufis, traditional Muslim clothing, are easy to spot on a city street. Muslim students, who make up 10% to 15% of the student body at the Lutheran university in the neighborhood, have expressed fear of even walking outside to attend class. 

“What can faith communities do?” asks Buckley-Farlee. “In the short term: Relationships matter, but (so does) practical support. For example, people are afraid to go to our food shelf, so groups are organizing escorts to walk with them or deliver food. People show up at kids’ schools at the beginning and end of the day to make sure ICE doesn’t take someone. People can contact their nearest mosque or even public school and offer to help with that kind of thing. That way each community supports its own neighbors.”

Somali people came to the U.S. as refugees. The term “refugee” refers to a special legal designation by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees as one who has a “well-founded fear for their lives” and who must leave their home, family and friends for protection from violent persecution. This is not a choice; becoming a refugee is a necessity.

The concentration of Somalis in Minnesota is due, in part, to the involvement of faith-based nongovernmental organizations that contract with the federal Office of Refugee Resettlement to carry out the resettlement process. Of the 10 NGOs that carry out this work in the U.S., eight are faith-based and include Protestant, Catholic and evangelical Christian and Jewish organizations. Minnesotans with a faith commitment take seriously the call to welcome people. 

The basis of these faith-based NGOs’ work in refugee resettlement is a theological understanding, shared by all faith traditions and exceptionally articulated in the shared stories of the Abrahamic faiths (Islam, Judaism and Christianity). It is captured in the story of the Prophet Abraham (Ibrahim) who welcomes angelic visitors to his home, offering them food and a place to rest on their journeys. This story highlights Abraham’s exceptional hospitality and faith. 

By definition, hospitality is always relational. Hospitality is the creation of a safe space where people are welcomed and their needs can be met. In this case, Abraham did not know the reason or even the people he invited into his home. He was scared but also felt a responsibility to welcome visitors and strangers. The story demonstrates the risks of welcoming guests into one’s home as well as the rewards from God for faithful practice.

This religious understanding of hospitality, in particular, has formed and shaped the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program since 1948. Each of the faith-based NGOs working with the program uses this story to explain its faith tradition’s mandate to welcome refugees. The admissions program recognizes that mere “aid” (government assistance) is not enough to help these people resettle into a new culture, and in the case of Somali people, a new climate. They need the practical support of neighbors to adjust to life in the U.S. and begin to work through their trauma.

In a 1985 essay titled “The Refugee,” Elie Weisel states, “Now what is the characteristic of a refugee? It is that she or he has no citizenship. Hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of human beings have felt – overnight – unwanted. Now nothing can be more painful than being unwanted everywhere, undesired, and this is what a refugee is.”

Now, Somali people are facing a new form of persecution, only this time it comes from within the United States. Indeed, this persecution originates from the present administration of our country. It challenges the human and civil rights of those who have found safety, citizenship and a home here in Minnesota. 

Donning winter parkas, hats and mittens, Somali people have created a home in this place that is so different from East Africa. Many Somalis migrated to Minnesota after first arriving elsewhere because employment and social services were good. Today, the majority of the state’s Somali population was born here in Minnesota. Most are citizens, with an approximate 600 people residing in the U.S. under Temporary Protected Status. They are leaders in our communities, leaders of our faith communities, activists, teachers, peacemakers, politicians, cashiers and truck and taxi drivers. 

This past Friday (Dec. 12), not only did the neighborhood coalition of the Cedar-Riverside community meet for tea and coffee, but the Muslim coalition of the faith-based organizing nonprofit Isaiah called for another outpouring of hospitality. This action involved mosques around the state opening their doors to invite their neighbors into their spiritual homes. It was called “Friday Prayer and Sambusa Solidarity.” As an interfaith coalition, the Isaiah nonprofit devised this action for the express purpose of building relationships and community with neighbors. 

Imam Khalid Omar, a community organizer with Isaiah, states: “Now that ICE has been deployed to racially profile and target my community, we know what we have to do. We will protect the most vulnerable. But we will not hide. We will pray tomorrow in our mosques as we do every Friday. Our prayers this week will be a symbol of our faith in Allah, but also our faith in our home, in each other, in our community. Our faith is bigger than the fear Trump is attempting to instill in us.”

For people of faith, hospitality is not an optional extra but a requirement. We must stand with our Somali brothers and sisters facing persecution within our shared home.

Hindus, Muslims, Baha’i, Sikhs, Christians, Jews, Buddhists all share the mandate to welcome those in need. Many diverse faith communities have come to Minnesota as refugees and immigrants and have found a home here.

Somali Minnesotans are former refugees. They are citizens. This is their home, as well as ours. We are all neighbors.

(Jen Kilps currently serves as network executive for the Minnesota Multifaith Network. She worked as the sponsorship developer for the Minnesota Council of Churches, Refugee Services Program in the 1990s. She received her doctorate from the Center for the Study of Religion and Politics from the University of St. Andrews in Scotland. The title of her thesis is “Hospitality to the Stranger: The Experience of Christian Churches in the Resettlement of African Refugees to the United States,” which is set in Minnesota. The views expressed in this commentary do not necessarily reflect those of Religion News Service.)