Faith and Politics: A Necessary Conversation

Let me begin with a confession: I do not approach the intersection of faith and politics lightly. Not because I believe, as some do, that the Gospel of Jesus Christ is apolitical—far from it. I do not subscribe to the notion that faith should remain in some private sphere, detached from the realities of the world. Jesus had plenty to say about the forces that govern human life, about power and its abuses, about justice and the responsibility of those who follow him. The Gospel is political—not because it aligns with any single party or ideology, but because it speaks to the powers and systems that shape daily existence. It challenges the status quo, exposes injustice, and calls those who live within these systems to a particular way of being: one rooted in love, justice, mercy, and truth.

From its earliest days, the Church has engaged in both conversation and confrontation with the state. At its best, it has been a prophetic voice, reminding nations of the moral and ethical imperatives they claim to uphold. The Church has played a critical role in movements for justice—challenging empires, advocating for the oppressed, and standing as a witness to God’s vision for humanity. But it would be naïve, even dangerous, to believe that Church and state are anything other than reluctant counterparts—speaking to the same audience but often with vastly different aims.

History is full of examples of when the Church has courageously spoken truth to power, but it is also full of moments when the Church has been complicit in the worst forms of oppression. We must be honest about both. The Church has stood on the side of abolitionists, civil rights activists, and movements for human dignity, but it has also been used to justify slavery, segregation, colonialism, and policies that dehumanize and exclude. The Gospel has been weaponized to uphold systems of power rather than to liberate the oppressed. As Christians, we must always be mindful of this tension and strive to be a Church that aligns itself not with the powerful for the sake of comfort, but with Christ for the sake of truth.

Why I Speak on These Issues

My engagement with these matters is rooted in three convictions.

First and foremost, I am guided by God’s call in my life, a call that has led me to take vows to serve and proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ—a Gospel that exempts no one, excludes no one, and refuses to be co-opted for anything less than the full liberation of God’s people. To be a follower of Christ is to care about what happens to our neighbors and how policies impact people’s lives. A faith that does not concern itself with the well-being of others is not faith at all, but a hollow shell of religion that serves only to make one comfortable.

Second, I speak as a citizen of this nation—a citizen not by birth, but by choice. Citizenship was something I pursued with prayerful intention, a journey that required study, government fees, proof of character, dedication, patience, and commitment. As I stood before a judge in my naturalization ceremony, I heard words about the reality that the United States of Ameerica is place that seeks constant renewal, because without it we will perish. I do not take that lightly. And with citizenship comes responsibility. I do not have the luxury of apathy, nor do I believe that faithfulness to God allows me to stand on the sidelines while policies are enacted that cause harm. I know what it means to live between worlds, to navigate systems that were not built for everyone. That experience has shaped my understanding of justice and the role of the Church in advocating for those who are often unseen and unheard.

Third, I believe civic participation is an expression of faith. The idea that faith and public life should remain separate is a relatively modern and deeply flawed construct. Scripture is filled with examples of clergy and prophets providing context for the people—naming the forces at work in the world around them, challenging injustice, and equipping communities to respond faithfully. From the courts of Pharaoh to the kings of Israel, from John the Baptist to the early church under Roman rule, faith has never been detached from the realities of governance. Our spiritual ancestors understood that faith is not simply about personal piety but about how we live together, how we care for the stranger, how we protect the vulnerable, and how we ensure justice for the least among us.

A Word to My Community

With these foundations in mind, let me add one more point: I do not presume to speak for the whole world, nor even for all who sit in the pews of the church I serve. My voice is rooted in my specific calling and my particular community. Within that space, we engage in dialogue—not in hostility, but in love. We wrestle together with the moral and ethical demands of our faith, seeking mutual understanding and the grace to live it out.

And in this moment, there is much to wrestle with.

We are witnessing policies that do harm—harm to the most vulnerable, harm to the stranger at our gates, harm to the poor, the sick, and the marginalized. We see rhetoric that sows division rather than unity, power wielded for self-preservation rather than service. These are not merely political issues; they are deeply moral concerns. And if the Church is to be faithful to its calling, we must not look away.

Policies that separate families at the border, that strip resources from the poor, that deny healthcare access, that make it harder for communities to vote, that fuel racial and economic inequities—these are not just talking points for political debate. These are real issues that affect real people. And as followers of Jesus, we cannot ignore the impact.

This is not about endorsing candidates or party platforms. It is about the Gospel imperative to love our neighbor, to seek justice, and to tell the truth. It is about holding ourselves and our leaders accountable to the values we profess. It is about remembering that our ultimate allegiance is not to any flag or government, but to the kingdom of God—a kingdom that calls us to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with our Creator.

We follow a Christ who stood with the oppressed, who challenged the religious and political leaders of his time, who was crucified as an enemy of the state. If our faith does not compel us to speak when we see injustice, then we have made peace with a Christ who does not exist—a Christ who is safe, silent, and complicit. But the real Christ—the one who dined with sinners, who overturned tables in the temple, who proclaimed good news to the poor and release to the captives—calls us to something much more difficult and much more faithful.

The Call to Engagement

So let us engage—not in fear, but in faith. Not in bitterness, but with conviction. Let us be the Church—not beholden to power, but bound to the One who came to proclaim good news to the poor, release to the captives, and freedom for the oppressed.

For that Gospel, we cannot remain silent.

Let us be clear: speaking out is not about seeking power for ourselves but about holding power accountable. It is about ensuring that the vulnerable are not forgotten, that the hungry are fed, that the sick are cared for, and that justice is pursued for all.

I know that these conversations can be difficult. I know that we will not always agree on how best to live out these principles. But let us at least agree that our faith demands engagement. Let us commit to being a Church that does not turn away from the hard questions but leans into them with humility and grace. Let us be a people who seek truth, who reject fear, who love boldly, and who walk in the way of Jesus—even when it is uncomfortable.

For to be silent in the face of injustice is to be complicit. And as for me and my house, as for me and my calling, I cannot remain silent.

May we have the courage to live what we profess.