By Brian Warth
On June 7, 2025, the usually quiet streets of Paramount, California, trembled under the weight of fear, fury, and fire.}
We are Chapel of Change, a local Free Methodist church rooted in South Los Angeles, a city known for Hollywood glamour meeting gritty streets and endless coastlines. My wife, Pastor Laura Warth, and I planted this church in 2012 with a simple mission: to give fresh hope to all. But nothing could have prepared us for what we would witness that Saturday. Nothing could have prepared us for the weight at our gate.
A City on Edge
Paramount is a diverse city with deep immigrant roots. Latinos make up over 80% of the population. Many are first-generation, juggling jobs and raising children under the pressure of uncertainty. Others are undocumented, living day to day.
On that June day, I heard there was some commotion near our church. I gathered my three children and went to the church to assess the situation. There were dozens of police officers on-site, which gave a false sense of safety. People were surprised to learn there was an ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) office in the community. The rumor was ICE had raided a nearby business and detained immigrants randomly, and tensions were rising. People started gathering in front of the ICE office.
Then, chaos erupted.
Tear Gas and Terror
As we moved closer to the front of the crowd, the air shifted. Suddenly, with a deafening bang, flash grenades were launched. Seconds later, tear gas filled the air. I found myself running through smoke with my three young children, shocked. My daughters’ eyes burned. My youngest cried out, “Daddy, my eyes are burning!”
We stumbled forward, pouring water into their eyes, trying to soothe the searing pain. All around us, people scattered, screaming. A peaceful protest had cracked open into a full-blown riot.
By nightfall, cars were on fire in the middle of the street. Protesters launched fireworks at riot police, who responded with rubber bullets. Helicopters circled overhead. Paramount was going up in smoke — right near our Free Methodist church.
Our street was blocked off, and the National Guard had been called in.
A City in the Spotlight
The next day, media from across the globe descended on our church. The Los Angeles Times, BBC, and even a Canadian news crew showed up. They wanted to understand: What had happened in Paramount? What triggered this powder keg? How is the church responding?
Pastor Laura and I were later invited to the Paramount City Council meeting to pray over the city. The chamber was packed. The air was thick with grief and fear. Citizens recounted terrifying stories — one woman shared how tear gas filled her car while trying to escape. Another said she believed she had post-traumatic stress disorder from being shot by a rubber bullet. This wasn’t just a protest. It was a wound — fresh, bleeding, and public.
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“We were being called to be the presence of Jesus on the pavement.”
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The Dilemma of the Church
That week, we learned of a major protest march planned for the next Saturday. It would pass directly in front of our church and end at the ICE office. But the march was organized by a group whose values do not align with ours.
So we were torn.
Do we stand back and risk appearing indifferent? Or step in and risk being politicized?
And then, in the midst of our wrestling, I sensed the Lord whisper:
“Move your Saturday night service to the sidewalk.”
The church wasn’t meant to hide inside four walls. We were being called to be the presence of Jesus on the pavement.
Jesus on the Sidewalk
We obeyed. Our team made signs:
- “Jesus Loves Paramount”
- “We’re Praying for You”
- “We Love You”
Someone had the brilliant idea to grill hot dogs and pass out free water. When Saturday arrived, we stood on the sidewalk — not knowing how the crowd would respond.
Then the yell came:
“They’re coming! They’re coming!”
Over the horizon, hundreds of protesters marched toward us, chanting about justice, immigration, and dignity. One sign read, “The eyes of history are looking at you.”
Our team held our signs high, smiling, handing out water — not protesting, not promoting — just present.
The protesters marched past us, gathering once again in front of the ICE office. The National Guard stood in riot gear. A police helicopter circled overhead. We stayed on our sidewalk, praying and present.
When Revival Walked Back
After a couple hours, something remarkable happened.
The crowd began to return.
This time, they weren’t chanting. They were tired, thirsty, and hungry.
They were ripe for the gospel.
People stopped to eat. Some asked for prayer. Prayer circles formed along the sidewalk. One woman — shaking, crying — surrendered her life to Jesus right there on the street in front of our church.
Hot dogs and lemonade turned into hope and healing.
Then, a remnant of protesters still lingered at the ICE office. Pastor Laura and Pastor Irene Ramirez (both ordained Free Methodist elders) felt led to check it out. What happened next still sends chills through me.
Pastor Irene boldly grabbed a microphone, stood between the protesters and the National Guard, and began to preach the love of Jesus — right in the eye of the storm.
A Church Reignited
That day, something powerful happened.
The Free Methodist Church didn’t just attend church.
We became the church.
In the middle of a national crisis, the Spirit of Christ rose through the cracks of chaos. We didn’t need a megaphone. We didn’t need a political banner. We just needed obedience.
The weight at our gate wasn’t just the crisis — it was the calling.
And when we stepped into that calling, heaven met earth on the sidewalks of Paramount.
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Brian Warth is the founder and lead pastor of Chapel of Change Christian Fellowship and the director of church planting for the Free Methodist Church in Southern California. He is the author of “Young Man Arise: Fresh Hope Emerging from the Darkness.”
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