Politics and the Pulpit

I have many clergy colleagues who are making their voices known regarding Alberta politics at the moment. They have good reasons for doing so. It seems to me that you either say nothing, or you say quite a bit.  After talking with our church corporation, we have decided that we're not going to say anything publicly about the Alberta referendum at St. Leonard's. There are a number of reasons for this.

1. We haven't had anyone contact the church asking the church to say something because they don't know what to do. What we have had are people contacting the church asking the church to send out resources that they are sending us.

2. The bishops of Calgary, Edmonton, and Athabasca have written a joint letter. I checked with our bishop and this is optional to share with our congregations. So, the letter from the bishops was recommended to us as something we might choose to share, but not something we were told we were required to share. 

With all due respect to the bishops, I didn't feel that the letter from the bishops really added much to the conversation. Their letter outlined basic Christian ethics of hospitality to the stranger that should be very well known to our congregations. 

Sharing the letter without saying anything else opens the door to a highly contentious conversation without giving additional tools congregations would need to explore this topic faithfully and without division. 

3. The present danger, to my mind, seems to be demonizing one another.

4. I have no expertise on the numerous issues raised in the referendum questions. 

5. After looking at referendum questions (1-5), and comparing them with international norms, I'm not convinced this is a moral emergency. While it would be less generous than a number of European Union countries, it is on par, generally, with what the UK and Australia already practice regarding temporary residents. So, while I have a particular hope for the vote to go in a particular direction, I think that either way it goes, we are still within the realm of general practices in developed countries. Both countries require temporary residents to pay for access to public healthcare and Australia additionally requires private health insurance for most temporary visa holders. These policies don't seem extreme or discriminatory even if they seem less generous. The UK requires nearly all temporary residents to pay the Immigration Health Surcharge (IHS) before receiving access to the National Health Service (£1,035 per‑year). Australia requires most temporary visa holders to purchase private health insurance because they're not eligible for Medicare (the national public health system).

In the European Union, many countries offer inclusive access to healthcare and social supports for temporary workers. Most provide healthcare access to temporary workers who pay into the system. So, compared to what's happening in the UK and in Australia, these don't seem like extreme suggestions even though they might not be considered very generous to our temporary residents.


Knowing when to speak on political issues and when not to (from the pulpit) is no easy task. The media can make some issues seem like moral emergencies and it's easy to lose perspective. Clergy can be seen as irresponsible for not speaking on certain topics. There can be a bias among our congregations where it seems appropriate to speak politically from one end of the political spectrum but not from the other end of the political spectrum. 

Speaking politically from one end of the spectrum can seem faithful, prophetic, and courageous. 

Speaking from another end of the political spectrum can be labelled as Christian Nationalism, inappropriate, overly political, and divisive. 

To hold one's tongue on an issue can be interpreted as irresponsible, and to fail to preach the gospel. 

 So how are clergy to know how to speak politically and when not to?

 

Among other things, preachers are called to preach "love your neighbour" and "welcome the stranger." This is basic biblical ethics.

But it's inappropriate for clergy to tell people who to vote for, or to speak on issues they don't have expertise in. 

I believe it's appropriate for the church to speak when:

-a core doctrine is the issue (Trinity, Incarnation, Resurrection, etc.). 

-a clear biblical ethical command is being violated (Genocide, slavery, apartheid, ethnic cleansing, torture, etc).

- A vulnerable group is clearly being targeted and harmed in a way that's not open to ambiguity (Jim Crow, Nazi antisemitism, segregation).

- The church's own integrity is at stake (clergy abuse, misuse of church authority, corruption)

I believe it is inappropriate for the church to speak when:

- The issue is complex, technical, and open to multiple interpretations and the clergy person does not have expertise in these fields to speak wisely (immigration policy, tax structures, healthcare funding models, constitutional arrangements, provincial/federal jurisdiction, housing policy, economic strategy). 

- Faithful Christians can reasonably disagree (We can imagine a faithful Christian voting differently than us and still being a faithful Christian. Perhaps we disagree about how to best love our neighbour. Can someone be faithful and vote NDP, UCP, or Liberal, and not be considered a heretic?).

- Speaking would divide the congregation unnecessarily (The parish is validly politically diverse and the issue is not a moral emergency).

 

So while the media can cause us to feel that we are in a moral emergency and cause us to panic, sometimes that is not actually the case. 

From time to time parishioners come to clergy with a variety of different topics that they think are very important for clergy to speak on from the pulpit. But they tend to only want them to talk on the topic if they know they are in agreement. 

These topics can include:

• racial justice 
• climate change 
• LGBTQ+ inclusion
• ablism 
• economic inequality
• Indigenous reconciliation 
• gun control 
• poverty 
• housing 
• refugees and Immigrant issues

• Medical Assistance in Dying (Euthanasia/ assisted suicide)
• sexual ethics
• gender issues
• abortion
• religious freedoms
• gender identity in public schools
• free speech
• dangers of communism or fascism

So for all these reasons the corporation of my church has decided not to say anything publicly on the issue of the Alberta referendum. 

I did put something together that I was thinking about sharing with the congregation. I may be violating the directions of the corporation by sharing it here on my blog, but I'm not planning on sharing this publicly on a Sunday morning. I know very few people read my blog, but for those of you who are interested, here's what I was planning on saying if the corporation gave me the direction to speak on the topic. Sorry, it's a bit long.

I’m going to read the bishops’ pastoral letter and then share my own pastoral reflection. This is not a political talk. I will not be interpreting the referendum questions or telling anyone how to vote. My role is to help us think as Christians. This is voluntary- you are welcome to stay or leave. My aim is simply to offer spiritual guidance and encourage charity, humility, and thoughtful discernment.

Our bishop, along with the bishop of Edmonton and the bishop of Athabasca, has released a letter regarding the Alberta referendum. I would like to share this with you and then share my own reflections.

The letter can be found here. 

I have had a few people ask us to share a number of resources regarding the referendum. My instinct was to not say anything about this, trusting people to do their own research and come to their own conclusions. My assumption is that you are very capable of doing your own research, and that you can apply what you hear being taught here at St. Leonard’s to inform your decisions to vote as a Christian. I don't think the church needs to speak on every political topic, and I also don't feel like I am qualified to speak on this particular topic- actually “topics”, plural. The referendum questions cover a variety of topics, including: 

• provincial control over immigration; 
• restricting access to healthcare, education, and social supports for temporary residents; 
• proof of sufficient citizenship for voting; 
• and a number of constitutional questions regarding: the Senate, changing judicial appointments, opting out of federal programs, and exploring the topic of separation from Canada. 

I don't have training in political science, economics, public policy, and I'm not an expert on immigration. There are many news networks and internet sites that are providing materials to help people understand this topic and I don't feel like I'm able to add anything to what is being said.

Since the bishops have sent out a letter, however, and in response to the number of people who have asked us to share resources on this topic, I have decided that it may be important for me to say something on the topic of the referendum.

The particular concern of the bishops is focused on our treatment of the stranger in our midst. These are temporary workers who don't have permanent resident status or official immigrant status of some kind. Like many of you, especially through the church, I have had experiences with a number of immigrants, temporary workers, and refugees. I have been blessed to know people from India, England, Nigeria, Iran, Iraq, Congo, Sudan, the United States, Jamaica and a number of other places. These are people I know and love. A number of these people are clergy. When we think of immigration we don't want to think about faceless people. We want to recognize people with names and stories and families. So, when we are talking about “immigrants” we are talking about people we know, people we care about. These are our family members. These are our friends. These are our brothers and sisters in the body of Christ.


The heart of the bishops' letter is this:

“From the earliest pages of the Old Testament, the People of God are consistently reminded that they have a Divinely given call to welcome and care for strangers and sojourners in their midst, knowing that they themselves were once shown the very same (Leviticus 19:33-34; Deuteronomy 10:17-19). In the New Testament, one of the central stories of Jesus is his Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), which invites us to consider the implications of the question: “Who is my neighbour?” In this biblical account, Jesus is clear that our neighbour is not just those who we think truly belong; rather, we have a responsibility to support and protect the lives, dignity, and worth of everyone we meet, regardless of their identity or status in our eyes.”

This is an encouragement to care for strangers, visitors, and, more generally, to care for our neighbours. We might summarize this with the familiar command, "Love your neighbour as you love yourself." Love means to will the good of the beloved.

I would hope that this isn't news to any Christian in our congregation. Jesus said that the greatest law is to love God, and he tied this to the second greatest command, which I stated above, to love your neighbour. I hope we all see these as our guiding principles. These are the hinges on which the door of the law swings.


I recently read a book by Amanda Ripley called “High Conflict”. The book is about the destructive nature of extreme “us-versus-them” feuds and how people can escape them to find healthy disagreement. High Conflict happens when a disagreement morphs into a “good-versus-evil” battle. There is such a thing as good conflict, and this is productive. It pushes people to learn and grow. High conflict causes people to become entrenched in their positions and see the other side as an enemy.

In the book, she specifically mentions referendums and how divisive these are. Referendums often reduce complex issues into stark binaries that don't allow for nuance and can create fuel for High Conflict.

Ripley gives a number of pieces of advice for escaping or preventing high conflict, such as:

Looking past the surface argument to find out what the conflict is really about, which is the “understory”. This might be something like fear, humiliation, status, or a desire to belong.

She suggests marginalizing the "fire starters" or "conflict entrepreneurs." These are people who seem to get profit, status, or an emotional thrill out of stoking division.

She suggests finding ways to make more time and space. We should pause, step back, and be careful about reacting when we feel triggered.

She also suggests cultivating curiosity and asking more questions. We should be careful about feeling too certain and righteous in our position. This can lead to contempt and judgment of the other. Investigate what people really believe, and ask what they really mean, rather than believing a caricature of who the “enemy” is.

She also recommends breaking out of the “good-versus-evil”, “us-versus-them” mindset. The people we disagree with are complex human beings. When we are in the midst of the conflict we might not realize that we actually share many underlying values and interests.

Perhaps the present political issue of the referendum might be a place for us to be able to practice this.

Following her advice, let's see if we can complicate the issue, while also embracing our guiding principles of loving God and loving our neighbour.

Let's try a thought experiment to help us think about the issue of the stranger in our midst.

If I were to visit every member of our church and find out how many spare rooms each person had available, I suspect we might have something like 50 guest rooms available. The 2025 point-in-time count for the number of people we had sleeping on the street in Red Deer was 645. With 50 guest rooms, we could potentially take care of around 8% of that number. This is not an impossible thing to do. I remember my grandparents taking Vietnamese boat people into their home, for example.

So why don't we do this? We do want to love our neighbour, and we want to be hospitable to the stranger Yes? (I'll continue to use the term "stranger" but please understand that I don't mean this as a derogatory term. I'm using it as a biblical category.)

There are complicating factors. So, we may have concerns about whether we can trust those we welcome into our home. Perhaps we are unsure about how predictable their behaviour will be. Will the person we're welcoming into our home be struggling with a mental illness, or maybe a drug or alcohol addiction. Perhaps they would invite others into our home, which might leave us feeling unsafe. If there are young children in our home and we don't have a relationship or history with this person, then we might not be sure whether the children would be safe. If we are responsible for children, we have a duty to keep them safe. If there is a potential for a stranger to be unsafe, then that is a factor that must be considered.

This may feel a little bit unfair to people who are living on the street because there are some people who just lost their jobs, or they're dealing with the trauma of a child dying. They just weren't able to get back on their feet. There are some men who couldn't afford their alimony payments and their life just kind of fell apart after they got divorced. So it's a little unfair to apply the “unsafe” label to everyone who's on the street because there are some people on the street who just really do need a hand up and they aren't actually unsafe.

Now this would change if it was someone we knew. If it was a family member or a friend from church that we've known for years, and we felt like we knew them well enough that we could trust them, that would change our attitude. If it was a colleague from work that we've known for years and we know they're just going through a difficult time (maybe a difficult divorce), that might change our willingness to open our doors to them. If we know the person well, we are probably more likely to make our guest room available to them. Suddenly, it isn't an unknown stranger. It is someone who is familiar to us and they have a name and they have a story and we have history with them.

But what if we don't actually have the resources to take another person into our home, even if we know them? Maybe we can't afford the food to feed everybody in the home. Say, you're a family of six surviving on one income. Should you bring someone into your home if your resources are already stretched thin? Would that be wise stewardship?

Maybe we could use bunk beds. Then those 50 rooms could house 100 people, then we could take care of 16% of all of the people sleeping on the street in Red Deer. What if all of your rooms are used up or occupied and so you end up asking people to sleep on the couch or the floor? How many people could you invite into your home before it becomes unkind to the stranger because you can't actually afford to care for everyone well? Would there be a point at which inviting another person in would actually be not caring for your neighbour well because you can't help them properly and, actually, it would put those you're already caring for at risk?

Now what does it mean to care for the stranger with these kinds of complications? 

I think there are a number of factors that arise from this thought experiment that can apply to some of the questions we’re being asked to consider at the referendum.

Do we have the resources to welcome these strangers into our midst? Are there vulnerable people who are already present in our communities who will be affected if we stretch these resources further? Is the healthcare system, the educational system, and the social support system adequate to deal with the number of people? Are there issues of safety that need to be considered, or is that an unfounded fear? As a wealthier part of the world, what is our responsibility to welcome people from less prosperous or dangerous parts of the world? How many people we can responsibly welcome?

Now our answers to these questions might be: Yes, we do have enough resources to take care of many more strangers as well as take care of our own vulnerable people. We have the resources to build up the healthcare system, the education system, and the social support system to the point where they are able to handle many more people- our own and others.

We might also consider that the strangers we welcome into our home will contribute to the household and so they would bring an income to support the household. Maybe they would come with construction skills, and they could help add another room to our home, which can house more people. (Those we welcome into our midst are often invited because we are asking for people to come to work in our economy as needed, temporary workers.)

The tension here is between welcoming and showing hospitality to the stranger, and being good stewards of the resources that we have. The question becomes: How do we know where our resources are in relation to the people we're caring for and inviting into our midst? Where do we find information that would answer these questions? To me, that seems to be the information we need to be able to vote on this topic faithfully.

This is what I was planning on saying. Caring for the stranger in our midst can be a complicated thing to think through politically and I hope that looking at the complication of it can help us see that people who vote differently than us can still be faithful Christians.