Christian leaders must speak against unjust policies while balancing boldness with the responsibility to protect the vulnerable and persuade individuals compassionately rather than coercively.
Joseph Wencker (c. 1880), St. John Chrystostomos (c.347-407) Preaching Before the Empress Eudoxia (c.404)
One of my earlier essays argued that whether Left or Right, Christian or Secular, “we all lost the culture war.” Watching events unfold both in the US and Europe does nothing to make me reconsider the fact of our shared moral failure. Here in the US, the new Trump administration is taking foreign policy stances that are not only contrary to “the Laws of Nature and Nature’s God,” (e.g., siding with the aggressor in an unjust war) but in some cases uniquely harmful to Eastern Christians.
Immigration. In recent days, for example, I have started hearing from Ukrainian refugees who are now facing deportation because the administration has put a hold on the previous administration’s programs. Additionally, there are proposals for the mass deportation of undocumented residents in America and the end of birthright citizenship.
Ethnic Cleansing. In the Middle East, the administration has floated a plan, for the forceful depopulation of Gaza. Here again, Eastern Christians together with Muslims and other residents of the area will suffer the hardships that come with being displaced. The Patriarchs and Heads of the Churches in Jerusalem on February 14 issued a humanitarian plea on behalf of all the people in Gaza saying they “are compelled to speak against the grave threat of mass displacement, an injustice that strikes at the very heart of human dignity.” They go on to say
The people of Gaza, families who have lived for generations in the land of their ancestors, must not be forced into exile, stripped of whatever is left of their homes, their heritage and their right to remain in the land that forms the essence of their identity. As Christians, we cannot be indifferent to such suffering, for the Gospel commands us to uphold the dignity of every human being. The words of our Lord remind us: “Woe to those who make unjust laws, to those who issue oppressive decrees, to deprive the poor of their rights and withhold justice from the oppressed.” (Isaiah 10:1-2)
After thanking His Majesty King Abdullah II of Jordan and President El-Sisi of Egypt for their support, they issue an “appeal to all people of faith, to governments and to the international community to act swiftly and decisively to halt this catastrophe. Let there be no justification for the uprooting of a people who have already suffered beyond measure. Let the sanctity of human life and the moral obligation to protect the defenseless outweigh the forces of destruction and despair. We call for an immediate, unfettered humanitarian access to those in desperate need. To abandon them now would be to abandon our shared humanity.”
Russia’s Invasion of Ukraine. Finally, there is the surprising—and frankly disheartening—acquiescence by the administration to Putin’s demands and President Trump's public comments blaming Ukraine for the invasion of their own country and so the death and destruction they have suffered. This was later followed by unfound allegations that the president of Ukraine is a dictator who for the sake of his financial well-being refused to end the war Ukraine “started.”
The Pastoral Problem. This past Sunday was the Sunday of the Last Judgment in the Orthodox and Byzantine Catholic churches. Then as now, many of our faithful—including many of our clergy—who stand in church will have voted for a president whose policies are deadly to Eastern Christians. Given the A/B nature of American presidential elections, voters rarely find an unalloyed “good” candidate. Even when there are third-party candidates on the ballot, voting means choosing from a slate of candidates who fall short in different—often opposite—ways.
To fault someone for voting for one rather than another is to misunderstand the nature of American electoral politics. This is especially true on the national level where the issues are so numerous and complex that Byran Caplan says the “rational voter” is a “myth.”
However, what is not acceptable is that many of those who supported the current administration for legitimate and praiseworthy reasons have been silent, excused, or even supported policies that—even if unintentionally—harm both the Church and our neighbors.
Why is there no outcry?
Why is there no criticism of an administration that would deport refugees we invited to our shores?
Why do people silently accept rewarding genocide in Ukraine or proposing ethnic cleansing in Gaza?
In my darker moments, I wonder have, we no fear of God?
Do we no longer love the “least of these” or even our brothers and sisters in Christ who will surely suffer and die because of the actions of the State?
The Unwise Primacy of Sexual Ethics. Putting aside the broad support for the Trump administration among Orthodox Christians, I think part of the problem is rooted in the residual effects of abortion politics. We may also be seeing the after-effects of the Cold War when many Orthodox Christians in the West hesitated to criticize the USSR lest, doing so, they make life harder for their brethren in the Eastern Bloc (for more, see Alexander Webster, The Price of Prophecy).
None of this, I want to emphasize, is a unique failing to either Republican voters in general or Orthodox Christians in particular. President Clinton molested an intern, and lied about it under oath, and still women supported him because of his commitment to legalized abortion.
Likewise, Pro-life advocates twice supported the thrice-married, unrepentantly promiscuous, President Trump because of his opposition to Roe v. Wade. In both cases, voters were willing to excuse all manner of personal and policy moral failures in favor of a candidate who embraced their sexual ethics.
But events surrounding the Clinton and Trump administrations conceal a deeper, pastoral concern.
Not Crushing Bruised Reeds. I have always found abortion a difficult subject on which to preach. Whatever we make of abortion as a policy matter, in a parish setting preaching against abortion (which is the only morally consistent position for an Orthodox priest) carries with it the very real risk of crushing “the bruised reed” or snuffing “the smoldering wick” rather than bringing “forth justice” in faithfulness (see Isaiah 42:3).
To preach about abortion is to risk unintentionally harming a struggling soul. This might be acceptable if the Church’s position was unknown or publicly rejected in the parish. But when most people know the Church’s teaching there is little value in a sermon that weighs in on a matter that requires discussion and often confession.
On one level, immigration policy, Gaza, and Ukraine, are different matters.
Individuals are not struggling with these issues in the way a woman with an unplanned pregnancy does. Speaking against these policies does not implicate the hearer in the way that would happen if she (or he) were guilty of or considering abortion. The believer in church on Sunday morning is unlikely to agonize over these matters with the intensity that comes with the decision to have an abortion.
A Prudent Freedom. All of this is to say that on immigration but especially Gaza and Ukraine the preacher—and the Church in America—has a greater freedom to speak and to speak boldly. The policies proposed by the current are unjust. Moreover, in the case of Gaza and Ukraine, we have the right and obligation to speak boldly on behalf of “the least of these (Matthew 25:40).
We speak carefully, circumspectly even, on abortion in the hope of persuading an individual to repentance. We do so either to protect “the least of these;” especially the unborn but also the mother deciding whether to have an abortion. There is also the concern to bring to confession so they can be reconciled to Christ those who have taken part in abortion.
When, as in Gaza and Ukraine, the coercive power of government is brought to bear in a way that harms my neighbor, bolder language is acceptable. Even here, though, what is allowed is not (necessarily) required. Let me explain.
To Persuade Not Command
Even in these matters, the preacher’s task is to persuade. We are not lawyers arguing before the court. Much less are we politicians looking to win votes.
And while immigration law and foreign policy do not land on the heart in the same way as abortion—or indeed sexual orientation or gender identity—they leave their traces on the heart.
The Limits of Bold Words. As with other moral issues, we often hold our position for reasons that are not clear to us or even in our control as Jonathan Haidt argues. It takes time and effort to reflect on the moral life and most people are not in a position to do so.
It is even harder to think deeply and in a sustained manner about public policy. And, again, many of us are simply not in the position to do so. Faced with this anthropological reality, a bold word in a sermon even carefully spoken may not persuade but only pointless confuse or offend.
It can also harden hearts, divide the community, and drive the faithful from the chalice.
In his treatise on the priesthood, St. John Chrysostom talks about the difficulties of pastoral leadership. Often, we treat patients who do not know they are ill. Or, if they do, they misunderstand the nature of their illness. And, of course, some prefer their illness to their faulty image of health.
At some point, though, the preacher must preach to protect the “least of these.” And he must do so even if it means risking—or even actually inflicting—injury on his listeners.
The injury though, is not one imposed by the priest. It rather reflects the “restive” soul that “would make mischief worse” by rejecting “the words which cut like a knife” and so “inflict a new wound by his contempt” making “the occasion” of healing the cause instead “of a worse disease; because no one, by using compulsion, can cure an unwilling man” (On the Priesthood, Book III: 107).
Seek Freedom Through Gratitude. The challenge of pastoral care, as the saint reminds his readers is that “It is permitted to Christians less than any, to correct by force the faults of those who sin.” The saint’s reasoning here is straightforward: “we have not received ... the [civil] laws ... great authority to restrain [others] from their sin.” And even if we were to “have opportunity to use” the coercive power of the State, “we should not use the power, because God crowns, not such as abstain from evil through necessity, but by choice.” For this reason, he concludes, “much art is needed that the sick may willingly persuade themselves to submit to remedies provided by the priests; and not only so, but that they may be thankful to them for the cure” (On the Priesthood, Book III: 104-107).
Thinking of my pastoral practice and seminary teaching, I realize that the challenge of these times—what God is saying to me—is that I can only hope to persuade—and so heal—those who are already disposed to be thankful to God. Yes, it is good if they respect and trust me. But to the degree that gratitude is missing in those I serve or in me, persuasion is unlikely.