Belonging to a community, feeling at home in the liturgy, carrying on a long family tradition — all these intangibles made it easy enough, before the election, to ignore much of what the church gets wrong<br />and concentrate on what it gets right: supporting open immigration, welcoming refugees, opposing capital punishment, housing the homeless, feeding the hungry, caring for the sick and the aged and the lonely.<br />And consider what happens here whenever there’s a flood or a tornado: Long before the government agencies mobilize, local churches are taking up donations, cooking<br />hot meals, helping people pick through the wreckage — helping everyone, no matter their religion or the color of their skin or the language they speak at home.<br />In working together, I hope we’ll end up with something<br />that looks a lot like a Christian nation — not in doctrine but in practice, caring for the least among us and loving our neighbors as ourselves.<br />By any conceivable definition, the sitting president of the United States is the utter antithesis of Christian values — a misogynist who disdains refugees, persecutes immigrants, condones torture<br />and is energetically working to dismantle the safety net that protects our most vulnerable neighbors.<br />My people are among the least prepared to survive a Trump presidency,<br />but the “Christian” president they elected is about to demonstrate exactly what betrayal really looks like — and for a lot more than 30 pieces of silver.<br />Every day brings word of a new Trump-inflicted human-rights calamity, and every day a resistance is growing<br />that I would not have imagined possible, a coalition of people on the left and the right who have never before seen themselves as allies.
