Donald Trump's Refugee Ban Is the Opposite of Being a Good Christian
I was raised very strictly Catholic in a conservative home in the midwest. Or put it another way, I know my Jesus. Like in a big way. Growing up, for some reason I had a statue in my room of Jesus playing football with some kids.
And sure, it always bugged me that one of the kids in the statue felt so cool just straight up tackling the son of God (I mean, is that kid supposed to represent atheism or something?), but the point is, I was surrounded by the guy 24/7 for most of my life, which is why I've never been able to wrap my head around the Christian Right. Take for instance Donald Trump's immigration ban, which puts restrictions on refugees from war-ravaged regions of the Middle East who no longer have a place to call home. It is literally tearing families apart.
Nothing could be less Christian than shutting the door on your neighbor in need. Remember all those WWJD bracelets that only super cool tweens (like me) wore? Well, I'll tell you what "J" would decidedly not "D."
He wouldn't look at a group of people fleeing some of the most hostile conditions the world can offer, and say "you know what? These people are the dangerous ones. Send them packing." And yet, despite Donald Trump's running on a platform that would make Jesus flip tables (which he did), Trump still won 4 out of 5 Christians and most white Catholics. Why?
Well, the reason is simple. The American Christian Right has fallen into a deep myopia. And let me head you off at the trolling pass, this isn't some "liberal bubble" perspective or some "this is why Trump won" nonsense. No, I spent the first 18 years of my life in Ohio going to Catholic School, Vacation Bible Camp, and any other Jesus-y thing you could imagine, and the simple fact is that many of these people care far more about believing things that help their financial well-being than they do about the things Jesus actually said. (Like, say, Deuteronomy 15:11: "For the poor shall never cease out of the land: therefore I command thee, saying, Thou shalt open thine hand wide unto thy brother, to thy poor, and to thy needy.")
Sure, hating abortion and having issues with gay people are a couple of Christian greatest hits that the GOP has been playing covers of for decades, but those are just the tips of the iceberg about what Christianity is about. I mean, Jesus famously said, "I'll say it again—it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of God." The dude even starts off with "I'll say it again," as if to say, Listen dummies! This part is important.
And yet the Christian Right instead chooses to ignore this philosophy in favor of the cold-hearted capitalism of the Republican party. Donald Trump bragged about sexually assaulting women, and Christians STILL overwhelmingly voted for him. These people care about the sanctity of life just until a baby is born—after which, you're on your own, motherfucker! Who needs food stamps? Or affordable healthcare? Forget about it if that baby happens to be born brown. What they actually mean is they are "pro-white-Christian-Life," but it's harder to fit that whole thing onto signs.
But don't take my word for it. In an interview with El Pais, Pope Francis had this to say of modern "populist" movements like Trump's:
[It] is what they call populism here. It is an equivocal term, because in Latin America populism has another meaning. In Latin America, it means that the people —for instance, people's movements— are the protagonists. They are self-organized. When I started to hear about populism in Europe I didn't know what to make of it, until I realized that it had different meanings. Crises provoke fear, alarm. In my opinion, the most obvious example of populism in the European sense of the word is Germany in 1933. After [Paul von] Hindenburg, after the crisis of 1930, Germany is broken, it needs to get up, to find its identity, it needs a leader, someone capable of restoring its character, and there is a young man named Adolf Hitler who says: "I can, I can". And Germans vote for Hitler. Hitler didn't steal power, his people voted for him, and then he destroyed his people. That is the risk.
The Christian Right is choosing the side that the Pope—whose call for kindness to refugees has been crystal clear—just implicitly compared to the Nazis. So here's a new rule. You can't consider yourself a Christian if you've decided that tax breaks and political points and attempting to incite a holy war are worth more than, y'know, the guy upon which you built your entire belief system.
GQMagazine
And sure, it always bugged me that one of the kids in the statue felt so cool just straight up tackling the son of God (I mean, is that kid supposed to represent atheism or something?), but the point is, I was surrounded by the guy 24/7 for most of my life, which is why I've never been able to wrap my head around the Christian Right. Take for instance Donald Trump's immigration ban, which puts restrictions on refugees from war-ravaged regions of the Middle East who no longer have a place to call home. It is literally tearing families apart.
Nothing could be less Christian than shutting the door on your neighbor in need. Remember all those WWJD bracelets that only super cool tweens (like me) wore? Well, I'll tell you what "J" would decidedly not "D."
He wouldn't look at a group of people fleeing some of the most hostile conditions the world can offer, and say "you know what? These people are the dangerous ones. Send them packing." And yet, despite Donald Trump's running on a platform that would make Jesus flip tables (which he did), Trump still won 4 out of 5 Christians and most white Catholics. Why?
Well, the reason is simple. The American Christian Right has fallen into a deep myopia. And let me head you off at the trolling pass, this isn't some "liberal bubble" perspective or some "this is why Trump won" nonsense. No, I spent the first 18 years of my life in Ohio going to Catholic School, Vacation Bible Camp, and any other Jesus-y thing you could imagine, and the simple fact is that many of these people care far more about believing things that help their financial well-being than they do about the things Jesus actually said. (Like, say, Deuteronomy 15:11: "For the poor shall never cease out of the land: therefore I command thee, saying, Thou shalt open thine hand wide unto thy brother, to thy poor, and to thy needy.")
Sure, hating abortion and having issues with gay people are a couple of Christian greatest hits that the GOP has been playing covers of for decades, but those are just the tips of the iceberg about what Christianity is about. I mean, Jesus famously said, "I'll say it again—it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of God." The dude even starts off with "I'll say it again," as if to say, Listen dummies! This part is important.
And yet the Christian Right instead chooses to ignore this philosophy in favor of the cold-hearted capitalism of the Republican party. Donald Trump bragged about sexually assaulting women, and Christians STILL overwhelmingly voted for him. These people care about the sanctity of life just until a baby is born—after which, you're on your own, motherfucker! Who needs food stamps? Or affordable healthcare? Forget about it if that baby happens to be born brown. What they actually mean is they are "pro-white-Christian-Life," but it's harder to fit that whole thing onto signs.
But don't take my word for it. In an interview with El Pais, Pope Francis had this to say of modern "populist" movements like Trump's:
[It] is what they call populism here. It is an equivocal term, because in Latin America populism has another meaning. In Latin America, it means that the people —for instance, people's movements— are the protagonists. They are self-organized. When I started to hear about populism in Europe I didn't know what to make of it, until I realized that it had different meanings. Crises provoke fear, alarm. In my opinion, the most obvious example of populism in the European sense of the word is Germany in 1933. After [Paul von] Hindenburg, after the crisis of 1930, Germany is broken, it needs to get up, to find its identity, it needs a leader, someone capable of restoring its character, and there is a young man named Adolf Hitler who says: "I can, I can". And Germans vote for Hitler. Hitler didn't steal power, his people voted for him, and then he destroyed his people. That is the risk.
The Christian Right is choosing the side that the Pope—whose call for kindness to refugees has been crystal clear—just implicitly compared to the Nazis. So here's a new rule. You can't consider yourself a Christian if you've decided that tax breaks and political points and attempting to incite a holy war are worth more than, y'know, the guy upon which you built your entire belief system.
GQMagazine
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