"We are a well-churched town," said the Rev. Andy Anderson of First Baptist Church, which is launching yet another option, the Brushy Top Cowboy Church.
In a place like Texas, one has to wonder where and how Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints children will find places that feel like "home" if they are put in foster care. Even in the best of circumstances, finding a fitting foster home placement can be tough.
Anderson's home church got international media play two weeks ago when images of its white buses, emblazoned with the church name, ferried FLDS children and women away from the fundamentalist sect's ranch.
To viewers like Kathryn Daynes, who teaches history at Brigham Young University and studied 19th century Mormon plural marriages, the imagery sent the message that some religions are OK, others are not and their practitioners need to be saved.
Many others, Latter-day Saints included, have raised similar questions, wondering if this was a case of Southern Baptists swooping in to battle for souls.
This perception is unfortunate, Anderson said. His church - having the largest attendance in town - happens to be the one with the nicest buses and with room to offer as shelter, he said. Law enforcement authorities called looking for help as the needs, post-raid, began to stack up. Volunteering and ministering "in Christ's name" was the obvious thing for Anderson and his congregants to do.
But they didn't act alone, he insisted. It was a communitywide, religious and not, effort.
The Rev. Joe McGee of the First Presbyterian Church didn't have space or buses to offer, but he and his church members were asked to round up playpens and other baby needs.
"We're to love our neighbors as ourselves, and these are our neighbors," McGee said. Given what they were going through, this would have been "a terrible time for a Christian to turn a blind eye." McGee has never come in contact with FLDS members, and Anderson said he and all volunteers who did or still might, were told by Texas Child Protective Services (CPS) not to converse with them.
"The only conversations we had centered on how can we meet their needs, what would they like, what would make them more comfortable."
This doesn't mean the faithful of Eldorado haven't said their share of prayers. They just haven't said them with or in front of FLDS members.
"There are a lot of lives that are up in the air right now," McGee said. "My prayer is that the God who does know what's going on, who knows the truth . . . would be giving wisdom and direction to the people who are having to make decisions. And I just pray that there would be true justice for all."
Freedom to pray as they wish has been paramount to officials' goals.
While in state custody, the women and children have worshipped often, CPS spokeswoman Marleigh Meisner has said. A few days ago the agency brought in an organ to accompany hymns the faithful sing.
"We realize the spiritual component is important to them [the FLDS]," she said. "We want to honor that as best we can. But this is one of many factors in placing children."
Michael Piraino, spokesman for the Seattle-based Court Appointed Special Advocates Association said religious concerns related to foster care placements are important.
"We've been emphasizing the need for respect [of the FLDS beliefs]," he said. "If they [the children] end up in foster homes, that's going to be a huge challenge."
Piraino suspects foster parents and attorneys involved will need special training in the sect's values. When asked about how FLDS families felt about foster care placements for their children with families not of their faith, Edson Jessop said this week, "We're hoping it doesn't go that way. Our first, second, and third choice would be [for them] to come home."
jravitz@sltrib.com
kmoulton@sltrib.com
