Social justice evangelicals and church leaders across the United [States] wrote a letter to President Donald Trump and Vice President Mike Pence asking that the executive order implementing extreme vetting of individuals traveling from jihadist breeding nations and the 90-day moratorium on Syria be rescinded.
For obvious reasons, the social justice warrior in the Vatican who has labeled the rejection of refugees "an act of war" overlooks those organizations under the umbrella of Christianity receiving hundreds of millions of taxpayer dollars from the refugee resettlement program beginning with his own U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops.
The USCCB received $80,733,062 in federal grants (2015) and $79,590,512 in federal grants (2014) which accounts for more than 90& of their revenue stream but they're not alone.
Many of the organizations who partake in the refugee resettlement programs are Christian in name only and for the love of financial gain have no problem quoting parables from the Bible and demanding compassion for refugees whose sole agenda is to convert infidels and/or chop off the hands that feed it.
As Christian pastors and leaders, we are deeply concerned by the recently announced moratorium on refugee resettlement. Our care for the oppressed and suffering is rooted in the call of Jesus to "love our neighbor as we love ourselves." In the story of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), Jesus makes it clear that our "neighbor" includes the stranger and anyone fleeing persecution and violence, regardless of their faith or country.
As Christians, we have a historic call expressed over two thousand years, to serve the suffering. We cannot abandon this call now. We live in a dangerous world and affirm the crucial role of government in protecting us from harm and in setting the terms on refugee admissions. However, compassion and security can coexist, as they have for decades. For the persecuted and suffering, every day matters; every delay is a crushing blow to hope….
World Relief (full name: World Relief Corp. of National Association of Evangelicals) is a social justice organization corporation whose survival and existence is SOLELY dependent upon a steady revenue stream of taxpayer dollars.
Notice the lack of fundraising in the graph above? Namely, that tiny slither of orange in the second graph under "Expenditures Breakdown 2015." Theirs is a sense of entitlement.
In addition to World Relief Corporation and US Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) mentioned above, below are the major refugee resettlement businesses who receives tens (if not hundreds) of millions of taxpayer dollars for their doing their part in the Hijra with the blessings of Elizabeth Warren, Barack Obama and Speaker of the House, Paul Ryan.
"I commend President Trump for delivering on his campaign pledge to put a common-sense pause on a broken refugee program and immigration system that has serious national security gaps and is in desperate need of repair….
"As I have been saying for nearly two years, the refugee resettlement program poses a clear and present danger to the American people. We were told by President Obama's own DHS, FBI and DNI Directors that U.S. intelligence officials cannot properly vet or screen refugees coming from Syria and other terrorist hot spots. We have seen the deadly consequences in Europe as ISIS has already successfully infiltrated its refugee population. Why repeat the same mistakes here?
"As a compassionate Christian, I believe we can and should help displaced refugees by caring for them in safe zones near their own countries. In fact, for the cost of bringing one refugee into America, we can help at least twelve refugees in safe zones….
From: That Sense of Entitlement: Social Justice Evangelicals, Church Leaders, Refugee Resettlement Biz. By permission, and do read the whole thing.
This is, of course, what Britain was originally doing, but it seems that it has succumbed to pressure (from what I read) to concentrate on resettling the unfortunate people from their home countries to the UK, as our church organizations here in the US have. I don't think this is good for either our countries (especially since no vetting is really possible) nor is it good for the refugees (if many of them are, in fact, refugees, and not merely economic immigrants).
I hate to sound like Bosco, but our friend has a point about how our churches can easily be corrupted, by the fool's gold of the Second Kingdom.
In short, we are commanded to be charitable, but we are not entitled to steal (and government funding for other than the proper purposes of government is just that) from others to fund our charity.
And that doesn't even start to address the problems of the introduction of immigrants culturally incompatible with our culture into our countries. I note that Chancellor Merkel is now hoping to bribe her immigrants to go away, I doubt that will work since it is not in their best interest. And who will guarantee that they will not return, perhaps with another name, since many have no reliable documentation anyway, directly thereafter.
For most people in England, 'the Church' is the Church of England. It is still the only church which covers most of the country, and in many villages, to this day, it is at the centre of village life in so far as events such as the summer fete are concerned. So, by the time this goes up, I shall be making enemies for life by judging the cake-making contest (we have, in a very Anglican compromise, managed to contrive a situation in which there are many types of winner), whilst my fiance will be grilling the burgers and barbecuing all types of meat (what is this man and meat and fire thing? Clearly very primeval). The Church fete, as it is known by all and sundry, goes back to a time when the church really was the central point of village life: it was where people were married, babies baptised and people buried, and usually where the village school was situated. The State has taken on many of these things, and in some ways, and in some places, the church is really almost a survival of a bygone era. As the State has taken on all the roles just mentioned (and increased taxes to pay for same), it has pushed the church out of the way; whether, in this age of greater austerity and cuts in public services, it will be able to continue to do so, is an interesting subject for conjecture.
Already, with the advent of foodbanks, we have seen the Church make a come-back. The State is quite unable to manage to provide emergency aid for people whom its bureaucratic procedures cannot deal with swiftly enough to ensure that they have enough to eat between becoming unemployed and receiving benefits. The vast clientage who have lived on State benefits forever know how to use the system, those newly unemployed don't, and it is so complex and slow that people can risk going hungry. So here, as in so many other places, the churches have worked together to provide foodbanks, where individuals can come and get help; here we also provide links to other sources of advice. None of this requires anyone to go near a church for religious purposes, but it reminds us all of what St James says, which is that true religion is feeding the widows and the orphans. Goodness knows, if you look around you, there is more than enough of that to be done, and as I said to my fiance the other evening, it is all very well arguing abstruse points of theology, but we do risk missing this central message of Jesus – which is that when you feed the hunger and clothe the naked, you are doing these things to Him, as well as for Him.
What can we do here in the small corner to improve the situation and encourage evangelism in and through our faith communities?
That is the question I was putting the finishing touches to when I read his comment. It starts, as he knows better than most of us, as he does it, with a willingness to get out there – literally. The work we do on Saturday mornings is a visible witness to the Chapel and its work, but we are the only ones doing it; I have never seen an Anglican or a Roman Catholic out there. I have suggested, at our occasional 'churches together' meetings that we have a rota, but have never found anyone willing to come along and do the street evangelism. It requires nerve, it requires preparation, and it requires follow-up material to distribute; what would be even better is if there was a follow-up course on which people could go; as it is, we offer ad hoc preparation courses, but again, as it is us by ourselves, there's a limit to what can be done. If we joined forces we could offer a regular class which people knew was there and which we could publicise.
That leads me to the second of my suggestions, which is a better utilisation of the medium through which this is coming to you. Jessica's introduction to the 'Pilgrim' course was fascinating. I like the approach a great deal, and see no reason why it should be confined to Anglicans; there is nothing in the things I have read which I'd have trouble with teaching; but we're not seeing much of a take up here, even with the Anglicans.
I have attended meetings at which the obstacles are always mentioned, but they always sound like excuses to me. We should have closer contacts with local colleges and Universities, especially those which have chaplains; I am sure that Jessica and her friends were not the only students who found their faith challenged when they got to university, and while she was lucky to find a helpful chaplain, how much better it would have been had he had back up from other Christians.
It is this 'silo' effect which gets in the way. We live in our ecclesial silos, perhaps cooperating during Christian unity week, perhaps not, but what about the other 51 weeks of the year? I had the pleasure of providing our local Catholic Church with a new member last week. Striking up conversation over coffee with a stranger in the supermarket, she mentioned she was a Catholic but as a newcomer, felt that she didn't want to go to Stockport to the nearest Catholic Church. I pointed out there was one far closer, but she'd not come across it, as it is down a side-street and does nothing to advertise itself.
So, we should get getting out there physically, we should be using the internet to greater effect (here the Anglicans really have shown the way), and we should be advertising ourselves – and not worry too much about which 'church' gets the 'customer'. But before we can do any of this, we have got to know our fellow Christians, we have got to know the priests, the ministers, the faithful, and we have to organise ourselves to work together. If we don't, then we have only ourselves to blame if we end up playing 'nearer my God to thee' as the ship sinks below the waves.
From the New testament itself we can see that many of the converts expected Jesus to return in their lifetime; there was a story that He would come before St John died, and we see an echo of this in John 21:22-24. But that did not happen, and those who had thought that the 'last days' should be taken literally were disappointed. Here we enter into one of the darkest areas of the history of Christianity in terms of our knowledge. There are the lights provided by the works of the Apostolic Fathers, but as we might have expected from a faith followed by so many ordinary people, there is a paucity of evidence about how those early Christians worshipped and carried on their lives. But their existence is the same as our own in some ways – we are all in what might be called a post-conversion and pre-tribulation stage. We all face the unglamorous task of living our Christian lives in a world which, at best does not care, and at worst is hostile to us. In many ways this is the real test of us as Christians, because whilst an emergency or a crisis may bring out in us some expected, or unexpected courage, there is another sort of it required for our daily lives as Christians.
I have been fortunate enough to have been involved lately in some catechism classes, and to have been able to do some work with a local Shelter for the homeless, and these have been excellent in terms of grounding my Christianity in some practical applications of it. Nearly all those serving at the Shelter are Christians, and we come from all denominations and none; we are united in the belief that Christ commands us to help those less fortunate than us, and we don't ask what church we each come from – or, for that matter, whether those we are helping are Christians. We are all made in the image of God, and nothing seems more mandated by Scripture than that we should help those who need it if we can.
How is it that Christians, many with developed personal relationships with God, can organize their lives so as to account for what God wills? Clearly it follows that to seek some form of unity of compassionate, self-giving love is willed for the flourishing of the community and those within it.
To bear with one another in the most practical of ways is in the ultimate where talking of a personal relationship with God helps us understand God – because is it when God is found in the practical deprivations and disagreements of our broken world that we can understand God in dimensions that help build the deeper personal relationships of all kinds that the Kingdom is made of.
It is, indeed, in that contact between our own brokenness and that of the world that the healing Grace of God moves most powerfully.
The power of nature is something I have generally seen on the television screen or in newspapers; witnessing its effects in reality is something else. The sheer scale of what wind and water can do to the man-made landscape induces a feeling of great humility – and not a little a fear. The east coast of England was hit by a tidal surge on Thursday night, Friday morning. I was at a meeting out near the coast on Thursday, and we got back with difficulty as many trees had come down in the high winds, and some roads were blocked – off-road vehicles with a high wheel base are literally life-savers at such times. They were certainly most useful when, being slightly mad, we went back last night to take food, clothing and other things collected by the churches locally. It is so hard to know what to say to people who are at the start of the trauma of losing everything – which may be why the British habit of offering a cup of tea with sympathy evolved. The authorities have done a tremendous job protecting so much of the coast, but when nature unleashes its full force, it will always overpower the works of men. At such moments the church is there, serving. The resources of a prosperous society will be deployed to help people hit by this – but the inward hurt needs something more than forms and money.
As I look out of the window this morning, there is no sign of the violence of yesterday – except at the coast, which is illustrated above. For centuries this region has been battered in this way, but about every sixty years there is a confluence of wind, wave and high tides which carries huge tracts of land into the sea. About sixty miles down the coast are the remains of Dunwich, once a prosperous town in medieval times, but now a small hamlet hanging on perilously to the land. One can only imagine how our forefathers coped with such storms. It is easy enough to see how they came to see God's wrath as typified by a storm – that sense of utter powerlessness against a force beyond your understanding is, perhaps, one way of actualising the metaphor of the wrath of God.
The good side of all of this is that it brings out the sense of community. In one case neighbours formed a human chair to help one householder get things out of the house before it fell off the end of the crumbling cliff; in others, people whose houses are safe, are offering shelter to those made homeless; and the local authorities, so often criticised at such times, not only helped get people out in time, but have been marvellous in providing food and shelter to those hit hard by this tidal surge.
As we were there by night, we could not really get a sense of how bad it is, although photographs like the one here give you some idea. Sometimes we sing the hymn, 'For those in peril on the sea' – I think we need a verse for those in peril from the sea. Lord, have mercy.
Few of us can feel happy about an economic system which treat folks as though they are cogs in a machine for making cash. Christianity, it is sometimes said, ought to be on the side of socialism because it believes in redistribution; well, it does, but what our socialist chums miss is the important bit – it us up to the heart of each of us to do that good thing. There's no virtue in the State taking on what should be our duty, and anyone who has ever had to depend on the State knows the true meaning of the coldness of charity.
The Bible is not against rich men, as Mrs Thatcher was wont to point out, if the Good Samaritan hadn't had any cash he couldn't have helped the man set upon by bandits. But that was only half the story. I shouldn't imagine that the priest and the Levite were on their uppers either, but they didn't stop to help. Perhaps they thought it was none of their business? Perhaps they did not want to be defiled by blood? It was the outsider, the despised Samaritan whose heart was open to Grace and who did what he knew needed doing. It is that bit – the personal responsibility, and if necessary the personal sacrifice – which our society needs to recapture.
It is clear to most of us that the idea that if we just pay enough in tax to the state, the new Jerusalem is just an election or two away, is so much nonsense. It is the sinful and stubborn heart of man which helps create such misery, and it is only changing that which will work the oracle. This Christ taught us and this he knew. The poor are indeed always with us, but they are not separate from us, and we are charged with helping those who need our help.
It is precisely the fact that for a long time the Conservative Party has given the impression that the poor are an economic encumbrance that has helped make them unpopular in many quarters. No one possessed of any sense denies that our welfare state creates opportunities for some folk to 'scrounge', but most folk don't, and it would help if our politicians rediscovered compassion. That's not a call for the State to do more – it is precisely that which has led to this situation. It is when individuals get involved and give not only of their money but their time that things work best.
This, of course, is an uncomfortable option to many nowadays, but it is precisely for that reason that we should be getting involved. Like many churches, my own is, and what we encounter and do is far removed from what you read in the papers. If we, as Christians, can show our faith in action, then the rest will follow.
One of the things which marked out the early Church was the concern its members showed for the poor, and the way in which its members treated women and children; then, as now, Christians ran in a counter-cultural manner. In a culture like our own, where the only trinity is 'me/myself/and I', the work we can do for others marks us out as His. At that level we can forget doctrine and do His work.
Reflecting on the idea of the 'Abrahamic faiths' drove me back to Paul and his Epistle to the Romans, not least to Chapter4. The central, and at the time (and since) controversial point which Paul makes here is a shattering one, and must have been so to a Jew of his upbringing and education. As a Jew he is well aware of something we often forget, namely that God has a covenant with His people; the question with which Paul deals here is one we all wrestle with – 'who are God's people?' To that the Jews had a simple answer – they were. It was with them that the Covenant had been made, they were suffering for having been unfaithful, but they knew the Messiah would come and put all things right; until then, as Saul the Rabbi would have told them, a strict observance of the Law was necessary to show that they were indeed to be reckoned righteous – that is justified by their keeping of the Law in the eyes of God. But now Paul's eyes were opened.
Abraham himself had been reckoned righteous, but not because of his observance of Torah – indeed there was no Torah. No, Abraham's righteousness was the result of his believing in God, and circumcision was simply the sign or the seal of this righteousness. The Gentiles are in like condition to Father Abraham. They do not have the Law, but they trust God. Genesis does not tell us that Abraham kept the Law and therefore God found him righteous; righteousness came through faith. They, and we, start where Abraham started, and we are part of his covenant because like him we believe. This is the larger sense of what he has to say on the subject in Galatians.
Abraham is the father of the circumcised and the uncircumcised; Jews and Gentiles who believe in Jesus are thereby made righteous. There is a clear statement made here about those of the circumcised who do not believe in Jesus; they are not made righteous in God's eyes by the observance of Torah. Circumcision availeth naught, the one sign which matters is the sign of Jesus. The Law, by itself, points up sin, and by it all are condemned, for all are sinners. God's promise is to be delivered to all His people – regardless of race or gender. But the point is plain – God's people are defined by belief in the saving Grace of Christ Jesus. Just as Abraham's faith began God's covenant meant to begin the process of putting creation to rights, so does our faith make us a part of that covenant family.
Abraham believed that God could give life where there was none, and Christians believe that God raised Christ from the dead to give us new life where there was none. Jesus died for our sins, and His rising is the sign we are justified – made righteous, not by our acts, but by His faithfulness in obedience to His Father. The Resurrection declared Him the Son of God. Isaiah 53 tells us (verse 11) that the Messiah will bear our iniquities and make many righteous, and Paul is telling us that this prophesy had been fulfilled in Christ.
If we share Abraham's faith in God's promises, fulfilled through the Son, then we are part of Abraham's covenantal family. If not, not.
From one point of view, the survey of the Apostles I promised Jessica, was an odd exercise, as I'd somehow expected there to be more to say. If you were making up the New Testament narrative, you'd have the Apostles doing great deeds to justify their selection; indeed, the early Christians did just that, inventing stories about John, Peter, Andrew, James, Philip, Thomas and Bartholomew. THat's very understandable, we are introduced to these men, they are selected by Jesus Himself, and we get glimpses of them, but not much more for most of them, so it is natural that the imagination should have sought to have filled the gap.
The Twelve clearly represented the Twelve Tribes of Israel and remind us that Christ's mission was to the Jews and, if I read Scripture aright, it was only late on in His earthly mission that He extended it to the Samaritan woman and the Roman Centurion, and when He came to do it, He selected one who had never been an Apostle, Saul of Tarsus, for the job.
Saul, like Simon-Peter, had already failed the Lord, in his case by leading a fierce persecution of the Jewish Christians. It is plain that the followers of Jesus were very wary of this new recruit, and it seem likely that some of them never took the man to their heart.
Paul's letters, like those of the other Evangelists, show how prone the church was to splits and arguments from the start, and if I read aright what Clement of Rome was getting at in the passages quoted by C451, it sounds as thought there was a tradition that Peter and Paul had both the victims of in-fighting and back-biting.
In short, anyone thinking that there was some golden age of Christianity when, under the impulse of the influence of the earthly Jesus, folk got on well with each other and didn't jostle for position or gossip about each other, is looking for something which never existed. One does not have to look very far in what Paul wrote to the Corinthians or the Galatians to see how sorely he himself was tried – the latter in particular shows how the accusations and enmity of the Judaisers pursued him, and those who think that he wrote Romans in response to such struggles seem to m to ahve a good point.
So, even the Apostles struggled with the crooked timber of fallen humanity, and that included their own weaknesses. They laboured long and hard, planting churches here, encouraging them there, and rebuking them elsewhere. It was a labour sustained by the Holy Spirit, whose support was clearly much-needed at times.