They argue that a budget reflects moral values.
I agree.
The proposed Republican budgets, as of late, aims to significantly reduce or eliminate funding for programs and services that address the basic needs of our most vulnerable citizens: the working poor, the hungry, the homeless, the physically sick, the mentally ill, the disabled, the elderly, those in public housing and public schools, and those buried in debt.
It’s a blatant and shameless attack on those Jesus referred to as “the least of these,” the ones he stood in solidarity with during his time on Earth. According to the Gospel of Matthew, he informed those aspiring to emulate him that their treatment of marginalized people directly reflected their affection or neglect toward him. It was the very measure of their religion. In fact, contrary to the beliefs of some Evangelical preachers, Jesus emphasizes that salvation or condemnation comes from one’s response to the vulnerable and overlooked, not from an altar call, magic prayer, or public act of piety.
In defense of discarding government-subsidized care programs, many Conservative Christians argue that the Church, not the Government, should care for people. The issue, however, is that the same individuals who voted for politicians currently dismantling healthcare, defunding public schools, and eliminating meal programs often fill the country’s churches, which were supposedly already tasked with this responsibility but are not fulfilling it.
So, where and when is this love supposed to manifest?
Currently, there is no overwhelming outpouring of compassion from Conservative churchgoers rushing to aid the poor, the homeless, immigrants, refugees, or those experiencing food insecurity. There’s no widespread commitment to repairing homes, preparing lunches, covering surgeries, or caring for the tens of millions about to be adversely affected by this Conservative leadership.
The truth is, if these individuals, who claim the Evangelical Church as their home, had been consistently following Jesus’ example, we wouldn’t be having these conversations. The epidemic of poverty, pain, and hunger exists because those professing to be followers of God are often the same ones telling the least to “pull themselves up by their bootstraps,” oblivious to the fact that they don’t even have boots.
There’s an ironic tension in a supposedly “Christian nation” that can’t or won’t care for its most vulnerable, filled with followers of Jesus in leadership who somehow rationalize that not providing healthcare is the compassionate response.
If given 30 seconds with Conservative Church and Republican leaders, one might say:
“If the Church, not the Government, is responsible for feeding and caring for people, why are so many still starving, hurting, and trapped in sickness and generational poverty? You’ve been in business for 2,000 years, supposedly reflecting the character of Jesus. How much longer will it take? What have you been waiting for? When will you tangibly demonstrate empathy that resembles Jesus? Because all I see is self-righteous judges passing the buck, unwilling to show empathy and allergic to truly loving the least.”
It seems that many Republican Christians may not want their Government or the Church to help those in need. They prefer the narrative that poor people are lazy, that those with mental illness or massive debt are morally flawed or made bad decisions. This narrative allows them to keep their possessions, ignore the call to love their neighbor, and feel morally superior.
Jesus warns that whatever we do to the poor, hurting, and hungry, we do to him. This should be a terrifying thought for Republicans claiming the Christian faith. GOP leadership and voters who support actions against those in need are, in essence, saying, “Move along, Jesus, we don’t care about you.”
This is the result when the least are treated as worthless.
This is what happens when the Church abandons its namesake and tells him to fend for himself.
“Forgive them, they know not what they do.”
