Religious beliefs give illegal immigrants hope, but some say they shouldn't be used to justify breaking the law.

GABRIELA RICO

Faith. By definition, it is an unquestioning belief requiring no proof or evidence.

For immigrants preparing to cross the desert into the United States, it is often the most important thing they carry with them.

Bibles stuffed in backpacks, medals pinned to clothing or votive candles adorned with the image of saints - faith is a part of the reason that, despite the deadly desert temperatures and dire warnings, illegal immigrants continue to make the journey that defies logic to many.

Religion is deeply ingrained in the Mexican culture and offers solace in the face of the economic struggles and life under a corrupt government, said Ruben Davalos, director of evangelism and Hispanic ministry with the Diocese of Tucson.

"In moments of crisis, the only refuge we have as Mexicans is our belief," he said. "In times of need, we reach for the intangible."

More than two-thirds of illegal immigrants caught in the Arizona desert have a religious relic on their person, said Andy Adame, spokesman for the U.S. Border Patrol's Tucson sector.

"The word of God is that he made the world without borders," Cesar Morales said recently as he lay in a cot at a shelter in Altar, Son., preparing for his morning crossing of the U.S.-Mexico border. "He will keep me safe."

The 30-year-old native of the southern state of Chiapas, an evangelical Christian, said he would keep his Bible close to him during his journey.

"Do not be afraid ... he will watch over you," Fausto Zunum Perez said, paraphrasing the Bible. "God has a plan and will take our life away when he sees fit."

Whether that plan is to be caught by the U.S. Border Patrol, arrive safely in the United States or die trying, the 43-year-old man said, he leaves it up to God.

"God is with us all of the time," Zunum said. "We go with faith."

Wes Bramhall, president of Arizonans for Immigration Control, a group that promotes public awareness of the cost of illegal immigration, said he empathizes with the personal trials of illegal immigrants but said that the laws of the land must be maintained.

"The Lord might be out there to help you survive, but you can't use that as an argument to permit these people to cross our borders," he said. "It doesn't give you an excuse to break the law."

It's not an excuse, but rather insight into what compels the immigrant, Davalos said.

Immigrants reconcile the fact that they are about to break the law, entering the United States illegally, because they are laws of man, he said.

"There are many arguments to be made about the law," Davalos said. "The immigrant doesn't look at (crossing) as a sin."

For Catholic immigrants, the most popular icons packed for their travel are San Judas Tadeo, the patron saint of lost causes; Our Lady of Guadalupe, the patron saint of the Americas; and San Martin Caballero, the patron saint of those who hope strangers will aid them.

In Sonora, halfway between Altar, a popular staging area for immigrants, and Sasabe, a departure point, an altar sits in the middle of dust and brush, filled with votive candles - many still burning.

Broken votives line the trail north.

This unpaved 60-mile road - where an entrepreneur has set up a 30-peso tollbooth and the heavily armed Mexican military makes random stops - bustles with northbound vans and buses.

The faith of the immigrant is "unshakable," especially when they arrive in border cities and can actually see the United States, said Carlos Zozaya Moreno, head of Grupo Beta in Sasabe, a government agency that aids migrants and tries to dissuade them from crossing.

"Once they're here, they can only see forward," he said. "They have to try (crossing) at least once."

The Rev. Cayetano Cabrera, a Catholic priest at an Agua Prieta, Son., migrant sanctuary, said at least a dozen people come by daily to ask for his blessing before they head north.

"Especially the ones who have been caught over and over again," he said. "They will sometimes be crying, 'Father, please! I have to get across.' "

His own piety is deepened when he encounters remnants of that faith sprinkled throughout the desert, said the Rev. Bob Curney, a Tucson priest who volunteers his time working with immigrants.

He recalled a time when he was out in the desert and came across a scapular hanging from a tree branch and a pair of children's shoes with the glue on the soles melted off from the heat.

"I was wondering what had gone on there and then I heard the rustling of paper and saw a worn Bible on the ground," Curney said. "Those moments are so profound."