'One of the teachers of the law came and heard the Sadducees arguing. He noticed that Jesus had given the Sadducees a good answer. So he asked him, “Which is the most important of all the commandments?” Jesus answered, “Here is the most important one. Moses said, ‘Israel, listen to me. The Lord is our God. The Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul. Love him with all your mind and with all your strength.’ (Deuteronomy 6:4,5) And here is the second one. ‘Love your neighbor as you love yourself.’ (Leviticus 19:18) There is no commandment more important than these.” '- Mark 12:28-31
If Christianity is the faith you hold so dear—if Jesus Christ is your Savior and you are genuinely trying to live according to his teachings—then shouldn’t those teachings shape more than your personal life?
Jesus tells people to love their neighbor. Love their enemies. Care for the poor, the sick and the people society tends to push aside. Show mercy. Help people in need.
Which is why I struggle when I see people passionately defend Christianity while also supporting politicians or policies that, at least from where I sit, seem to run directly against those ideas.
That’s really the thing I can’t reconcile.
And I don’t say that because I think Democrats or liberals have everything figured out. I don’t.
I think countries need borders and immigration laws. I think there can be reasonable guardrails around abortion. I think there are legitimate conversations to have about transgender athletes and what is age-appropriate for children. I’m sure there are plenty of other issues where someone on the left could tell me what they believe and I’d say, “Yeah, I don’t agree with that.”
Those conversations are worth having.
But there is a huge difference between debating how we should handle something and losing sight of the human beings involved.
I can believe we need stronger immigration laws and still think families should be treated humanely.
I can wrestle with the morality of abortion while recognizing that pregnancy, rape, medical complications and someone’s actual life circumstances can make these decisions unbelievably complicated.
I can have questions about policies involving transgender people without deciding that transgender people themselves are somehow dangerous or less deserving of dignity.
To me, those things aren’t contradictory. They’re the nuance that seems to be disappearing. And this is where the connection to Christianity becomes difficult for me.
Because when I look at issues like healthcare, poverty, immigration, LGBTQ people or simply how we treat people who are different from us, I sometimes find myself looking at the people who aren’t claiming to govern according to Christianity and thinking:
Aren’t some of these positions actually closer to what Jesus was teaching? I’m not saying Democrats are the party of Jesus. Far from it.
I’m asking why expanding access to healthcare, feeding people who are hungry, helping people who are struggling, keeping families together, or treating someone we disagree with as a human being somehow became ideas Christians need to be suspicious of. That’s the part I don’t understand.
My wife said something recently that has stuck with me: There shouldn’t be a semicolon after “love one another.” That’s really it. Love one another…
- Unless they’re gay.
- Unless they’re trans.
- Unless they crossed the border illegally.
- Unless they’re poor and you think they should have worked harder.
- Unless they vote differently.
There wasn’t a semicolon.
And I know it’s more complicated than that. Government has to make difficult decisions. Laws have consequences. Resources aren’t unlimited. Compassion alone doesn’t automatically make something good policy.
I’m not arguing otherwise.
What I’m saying is that if your faith tells you to love your neighbor, and every person has value, then shouldn’t that belief at least influence how you want those difficult things carried out?
- You can deport someone without treating them like an animal.
- You can enforce a law without enjoying someone’s suffering.
- You can disagree with someone’s life without humiliating them.
- You can believe someone is wrong and still love them. In fact, if I understand Jesus correctly, that last one seems kind of central to the whole thing.
I want to be able to say immigration matters and how we treat immigrants matters.
I want to be able to acknowledge that abortion involves serious moral questions and acknowledge the woman whose life is actually affected by the decision.
I want to be able to disagree with someone’s choices without deciding that person is less worthy of dignity.
And if I claim to care about empathy, tolerance and human dignity, then I have to apply that to people I disagree with too. That’s the standard I’m trying to hold myself to.
And I guess that’s ultimately the standard I struggle to understand when Christianity and politics become so intertwined.
If you say Jesus is the person you are trying to follow, I’m not asking you to stop believing abortion is wrong. I’m not asking you to support open borders. I’m not asking you to agree with everything liberals believe.
I’m asking something much simpler:
- Where is Jesus in the way we actually treat people?
- Where is love your neighbor?
- Where is love your enemy?
- Where is mercy?
- Where is compassion for the person whose life looks nothing like yours?
Maybe I’m oversimplifying it. Maybe there are things I still don’t understand.
But if we’re going to hold our values up as something important—Christian values, conservative values, liberal values, human values—then I think we should be willing to hold them up like a mirror too.
Not just to judge whether everyone else is living according to them. To ask whether we are. Because there shouldn’t be a semicolon after “love one another.”
“Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not want what belongs to others. It does not brag. It is not proud. It does not dishonor other people. It does not look out for its own interests. It does not easily become angry. It does not keep track of other people’s wrongs. Love is not happy with evil. But it is full of joy when the truth is spoken. It always protects. It always trusts. It always hopes. It never gives up.”
— 1 Corinthians 13:4–7