Showing posts with label immigration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label immigration. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 22, 2025

A Bishop's Partisanship Overshadows Her Christianity

On the first full day of U.S. President Trump’s second term, the president and vice president attended a multi-faith prayer service at the National Cathedral. Episcopal Bishop Mariann Budde delivered the sermon on what is necessary for imperfect political unity in a country such as the United States. I contend that in trying to influence the president on immigration policy in a partisan way, she undercut the credibility of her message that there is strength in loving rather than retaliating against one’s detractors and even political enemies. The sacrifice of which she spoke concerning being kind in reaching out in humanity to people we dislike could be applied to herself in resisting the temptation to be partisan. That she lapsed at the expense of Jesus’ most important message is particularly striking.

Rev. Budde claimed that recognizing the dignity of even one’s enemies as being worthy of respect is one of three elements in achieving an admittedly imperfect (for we are imperfect beings) political unity, which in turn can be understood as “a way of being with one another.” To hold different perspectives or opinions as “valid and worthy of respect” does not require agreeing with them, and it is indeed permissible to proffer corrections on faulty reasoning. Such differences can exist within a deeper political unity if there is also compassion with another person’s humanity, as in the context of natural disasters.

Helping another person even though dislike exists in either or both directions involves sacrificial love as we give of ourselves for the sake of others, regardless of whom they voted for in the last election. In his Sermon on the Mount, the priest said, Jesus advocates loving not just our neighbors, but to love our enemies. Such love can seem vague, and the term “enemies” can easily be dismissed as too extreme to apply as the term does not include people who simply don’t like us or whom we don’t like. Being willing to be compassionate and kind in not just sympathizing, but also helping even people whom we regard as assholes is none other than the content of the kingdom of God, according to Samuel Hopkins, an American theologian who followed his relative, Jonathan Edwards, in the First Great Awakening. God is incarnate in our world in the interpersonal dynamic that only exists when a person disregards dislike in choosing to respond in kindness to another person’s needs when doing so is inconvenient interpersonally.   Valuing this divine presence in the world and enabling it to manifest by helping out in humaneness is something that anyone can value without necessarily believing in a god-man. Indeed, the litmus test in Christianity could be changed in line with this focus on the kingdom of God, whose mysteries Jesus says in the Gospels he came to discuss. Put another way, were actual acts of kindness to people who have been rude or even mean the focus for Christian intention, interpersonal peace might just break out as from a mustard seed. The world would change dramatically, and a president could lead the way by example.

Had the priest left her message at that, the impact would have been greater than it was, but she went on to bring up Jesus’ position on societal outcastes in order to beg President Trump to have mercy on people in the United States who have entered illegally. Reminding the president of Jesus welcoming outcastes in the Gospels, she pleaded for mercy on the hard-working people in the U.S. who don’t “have the proper documentation” to be in the country but “are not criminals.” I submit that not having the proper documents is a function of having broken U.S. law, and thus being criminals by entering the U.S. illegally. The problem lies not with documents, but with the willful decision to enter another country without permission, which, I submit is rather presumptuous. To label this as not criminal is not only incorrect factually, but glosses over the sheer presumption in sneaking into another country. I submit that the attitude of “laws don’t apply to me” is indeed presumptuous, and in fact is inconsistent with being in a society at all. For it is only in a Hobbesian state of nature that laws do not apply.

So, I submit that by “getting political” in a misleading or artful way, the priest undercut the immense credibility that lies in the strength of forgiveness by helping out people who have been most unkind—a kind of strength that is often dismissed in the political world, as it is by the Romans in the Gospels. In his writings, Nietzsche argues that this sort of strength is actually weakness. He even points out how it is preached as a means of gaining power over the politically strong. This is exactly what the priest was doing in trying to make the president feel guilty for objecting to people whose first act in the U.S. was to break its laws by entering illegally. That they have no right to be in the U.S. does not undercut their dignity, for they have done that themselves in audaciously sneaking into a country (or staying beyond a court date). The priest herself said that honesty is a major element of political unity.  

Unfortunately, the focus was not on whether serving the humanity of even political adversaries in acts of kindness rather than seeking retribution constitutes strength or weakness. Christianity stands for the former, whereas Nietzsche provides a counter-argument wherein the religion is useful for the weak who are not strong enough to be politically powerful. It could be that valuing not only turning the other cheek, but responding to the humanity of detractors in acts of kindness is the or ought to be the definitive litmus test by which a person can decide in the privacy of one’s own heart whether one is a Christian. Were this the focus of the religion, then the earthly city might really change. Being opportunistic in seeking political influence, on the other hand, is unfortunately already well-ensconced, and is thus easily recognizable.  

Sunday, December 15, 2024

Church of the Peripheries

One of the leitmotifs of the four Christian Gospels is the surprising value of peripheries even over people who are up front, whether politically, economically, socially, and even atop religious institutions. “The last are first, and (most of) the first are last” is a Biblical staple for Christians. In terms of compassion, the value being espoused here is consistent with Jesus’s preachment that compassion to one’s detractors and even sworn enemies is the way into the spiritual Kingdom of God, which, being within a person and between people in the spirit of inconvenient love/compassion, is at hand rather than pending Christ’s Second Coming. This point is dramatically made in the film, Mary Magdalene. It was also made in Pope Francis’s decision to skip the grand opening of Notre Dame in Paris and go instead to the French island of Corsica in December, 2024. In making this choice, the pope evinced distinctively Christian leadership, which can also be practiced by heads of governments and even CEOs.

Skipping an ornate state ceremony in Paris, Pope Francis went to a small Mediterranean island, “highlighting local traditions of popular piety on the one hand and migrant deaths and wars on the other.”[1] The symbolism of the trip thus goes beyond Corsica. “The Mediterranean is the backdrop of this trip, surrounded by situations of crisis and conflict,” Vatican spokesman Matteo Bruni, said.[2] The notion and value of compassion that is inconvenient is especially welcome in the context of suffering, and, indeed, a person who oneself has suffered greatly may be particularly inclined to redress hate in the world with compassion. This is much more valuable than meeting with the president of a country.

Hence, rather than meeting French President Macron at his palace, the pope was scheduled to “meet privately with Macron at the airport before departing . . . back to Rome.”[3] The first are last. “The pontiff pointedly did not make the trip to Paris . . . for the pomp surrounding the reopening of the Notre Dame Cathedral following the devastating 2019 fire.”[4] Rather than going to Paris, the pope went to an island whose population numbers only 340,000 people. As they had been embroiled in pro-independence violence, the context there was ripe for soothing, compassionate attention. Like a good shepherd who goes after a lost lamb so it would not be eaten by a wolf, a good pastor goes to the periphery where fear can be expected to eclipse happiness and contentment. A good pastor shirks the contentment of pomp and lavish display in order to go to a sparce periphery.

So too, Macron could have followed suit, assuming he values Jesus’s example, by not only venturing into the poor suburbs of Paris, but also giving Corsica its political independence instead of limited autonomy. The island is closer to Italy anyway. Lessening violence is worth more, I submit, than attending a highbrow grand opening of Notre Dame. Rather than worship the spurious crown of thorns that was returned to the cathedral just after its opening, a Christian following in the pope’s footsteps would be more inclined to evince inconvenient compassion not only to strangers, but, even more so, to people who have been rude, rejecting, and even hateful to oneself.

Benevolentia universalis is commonly thought to be the epitome of Jesus’s life and teaching on how to enter the Kingdom of God; I submit that something more—something even more difficult—is needed to usher in the Kingdom in the world, one person at a time.  Put another way, “the last are first” can be interpreted not only as going to the least rather than the first in society (and in a church!), but also as treating one’s detractors as the last in the sense of being the first in receiving one’s compassion and even love. This is in sync with self-sacrifice and the difficult exercise of free-will, and thus with agape, self-emptying love that is uniquely the epitome of divinity in Christianity, and thus the religion’s real presence. Even in ritual reality, which is qualitatively different than metaphysical reality, agape itself is the real-presence being ritually sought and received. Once ingested, it is for naught if it does not issue outward in compassion to the most difficult of people rather than just to compliant strangers.


1. Daniel Bellamy, “Francis Becomes the First Pope to Visit the French Island of Corsica,” Euronews.com, December 15, 2024.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid., italics added.

Tuesday, June 19, 2018

On the Methodist Complaint against U.S. Attorney General Jeff Sessions on an Immigration Policy

Assessing whether a Christian denomination’s formal discipline is being used for religious or politically-ideological purposes is fraught with difficulty. Certain governmental policies, such as genocide, clearly violate Christian teaching, such that government officials charged with implementing such policies could legitimately be sanctioned on religious grounds without it being thought that a political or partisan difference is the actual basis of protest. As the harm to others in a given policy lessens, the specter of ideological opposition as the actual motivator increases as a possibility. In 2018, 640 United Methodists filed a complaint to their church charging U.S. Attorney General Jeff Sessions with having violated the Church’s Book of Discipline, its code of laws and social principles, on account of the alleged “child abuse, immorality, racial discrimination, and ‘dissemination of doctrines contrary’ to those of the United Methodist Church.”[1] Sessions had been tasked with implementing the U.S. immigration policy of separating children from their parents at the border. At the time of the complaint, over 2,000 children of illegal aliens were being held by the U.S. Government as their parents were being prosecuted.
From a political standpoint, the separation may have served as a deterrent to potential illegal immigrants as well as a practical means by which the adults could be prosecuted. The moral harm in the separations is clear. For Christians, the morality factor must be put up against Jesus’s teachings and example. It is highly unlikely he would have supported separating children from their parents. In fact, he pointed to the innocence of children as being like the Kingdom of God.
For his part, Jeff Sessions pointed to Paul’s dictum in Romans 13 to obey civil authorities. Jesus himself said to give what is Caesar’s to Caesar. Sessions’ defense is flawed, however, because obeying the authorities would apply to the illegal immigrants who are Christian, rather than to the authorities themselves. What would Jesus say to a Christian authority concerning harm to others through a government action or policy?
The answer may depend on the grievousness or extent of the harm to others. Surely Jesus would disown any of his followers involved in perpetuating the NAZI holocaust in Germany. Separating children from their respective parents involves less harm than would killing the parents or their children, but the harm is still very significant to both parties. Sessions could point out that the parents risked this harm by crossing the border illegally. Even so, the question for the Christian is where Jesus would stand on a civil official implementing a policy of such harm. I contend that Jesus would have rebuffed such an official. How Jesus rebuffed the rich man, who would not part with his wealth to follow Jesus, can be taken as a model or indication. You can keep your power or money, but you cannot follow me if you do.
In terms of money, Jesus’s stance toward the rich man is a very strict view, which would be modified in Christianity from the Commercial Revolution on.[2]  In particular, the good use of even just part of a fortune would come to justify being wealthy. Similarly, could the good use of political power be said to legitimate holding civil power by a Christian? The difficulty especially concerning governmental power is what counts as good, for partisans have different answers, even different ideals or stressed values. The 640 Methodists may have objected to the good that Sessions saw as coming from the policy. In his view, that good is the order that comes from a nation of laws; illegal immigration hampers or detracts from such good because of the lawlessness itself as well as the associated culture of disrespect for laws. Would illegal immigrants suddenly respect and obey traffic laws in Arizona after having presumed that the immigration laws do not apply?
In short, as soon as we drift away from “What would Jesus do?” to consider the good use of political power, we open up the problem of different political ideologies, each of which can be said to have some version of the good in mind even if harm to others is in the means. What would Jesus say to Jeff Sessions? This is what his pastor should focus on, rather than wading into political waters that can easily be twisted one way or the other, and can belie legitimate religious points. From the latter perspective, the harm in the action of the policy itself is at issue. Would Jesus accept one of his followers assuming a government post that involves separating children from their parents?



[2] Skip Worden, God’s Gold.  Available at Amazon