It isn’t racist to ask hard questions of our government about immigration policy. But when we consider what form our social action should take, let’s use the Bible to ask hard questions of ourselves, says Dr Krish Kandiah. Taking to the streets in balaclavas and using violence isn’t what Jesus would do

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Source: Reuters

A protester dressed as a crusader holds up a cross during a demonstration in Dover

Watching hundreds of men from the Patriot Platform dressed in black paramilitary uniforms, blocking roads, confronting the police and shouting chants in the name of Jesus in Dover and Portsmouth last weekend triggered something in me.

Partly, they reminded me of myself. I like to think I too am passionate for a cause, committed to speaking up when there is injustice, prepared to challenge the authorities when necessary and willing to hold up my faith as a banner. I believe Christ is indeed King.

Partly, they reminded me of the bullies of my schooldays who hunted in packs, stood up to the teachers and picked off children like me - those who stood out for some reason: usually the colour of their skin, their accent, clothes or speech impediments.

This tension made me feel deeply uncomfortable. I believe Christians should be courageous in the face of injustice. I believe faith should make a difference in public life. I believe our country should control our borders and prevent people from resorting to using small boats to enter.

It can be deeply painful to see new arrivals seemingly supported by a system that has failed those closest to us

I also believe we should show welcome to asylum seekers. And I have come to believe that most Christians in the UK, whatever their views on immigration and border control, do not approve of public nuisance and intimidation tactics, and are worried about Patriot Platform’s extremism.

Yet following the weekend’s headlines, it is worth stopping to ask ourselves hard questions. How do we know when holding up the name of Jesus is an act of faithful witness, and when we are using his name to sanctify our own anger, fear or prejudice? When is the injustice we think we see genuinely unjust, and when have we simply been taught to fear people who are different from us?

Are the Patriot Platform adherents confronting wrongdoing in the way Jesus ousted the money changers from the temple - forcefully driving out a genuine corruption? Or are they trying to get rid of people they find inconvenient, much like the Pharisees tried to get rid of Jesus?

Perhaps the best way to answer these questions is to put the movement to the test - not my political test or yours, but using questions provided in the Bible.

The Lordship test

“Why do you call me Lord, Lord, and not do what I say?” (Luke 6:46)

This verse is one of the most challenging in the New Testament. Jesus exposes an uncomfortable truth: it is possible to claim allegiance to His authority while doing the opposite of what He actually teaches. A claim to follow Jesus as Lord is no guarantee of genuine, humble obedience. I can say the right words and still fail to do what He says. The same is true of those who chant “Christ is King!”

It is hard to find a parallel in Jesus’ time to what happened in Dover and Portsmouth. Yet that itself is telling. In an era of military occupation, when invasion was not just feared but real, Jesus’ instruction was never to organise resistance or build a movement of citizen enforcers: it was to overcome evil with good.

Roman law stated that a soldier could compel a civilian to carry his pack for one mile, but Jesus said: “If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles” (Matthew 5:41). Instead of resistance or resentment, Jesus’ way is to absorb the humiliation and then exceed it with a gift never even asked for.

Going the extra mile was subversive by its loving service. That is how Jesus taught his followers to answer those they had every reason to despise. There is no version of that ethic that ends in balaclavas and blocked roads. The tactics of Patriotic Platform have no precedent in the life or teaching of Jesus. 

The theology test

“Do you not understand these things?” (John 3:10)

Daniel “Tommo” Thomas has gained significant traction within the Christian community since launching Patriot Platform in June, despite there being no appeal to scripture in any of his public statements.

According to Joe Mulhall, director of research at Hope Not Hate, Patriot Platform is “a self-professed Christian ‘army of patriots’ formed to, in Thomas’s words, ‘reclaim our borders, restore order and send a clear message: Britain belongs to the British people’. The group functions as a vigilante unit to combat immigration and revive what it says are Christian values.”

We could learn something from Nicodemus who, when faced with a new movement, went directly to the spokesperson to ask for a theological rationale. Jesus immediately pointed to the Old Testament before quoting what would become the most famous verse in scripture: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)

We cannot love our own nation in a way that opposes Gods love for the world, or fails to show love to people of other nations. Paul says: “in Christ there is no longer Jew or Greek” (Galatians 3:28). Whatever divides us into ethnic groups and rival nations diminishes when we become Christians, because we are equally loved and forgiven by God. John saw this too when he described people of every tribe and tongue worshipping the Lamb (Revelation 7:9).

It is blasphemous and idolatrous to swap loyalty to the Kingdom of God for loyalty to the United Kingdom. And Patriotic Platform need to be very careful here. Using intimidation, anger or violence to protect the demographic balance of Britian is impossible to justify in scripture.

The fruit of the Spirit test

“Who has bewitched you?” (Galatians 3:1)

Paul asks this blunt question before giving a remarkably practical diagnostic to determine whether something is of God or not. He lists qualities that come from our fallen human nature (the flesh) and juxtaposes it with a list of qualities that come from our renewed human nature by the grace of God (the spirit).

Acts of the flesh include: “sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies” (Galatians 5:19-21).

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control” (v22-23).

Love does not speak words that frighten or intimidate. Self-control does not cover itself with balaclava. Gentleness does not need a paramilitary uniform to make its point. Sadly, rage against foreigners, jealousy of the treatment of asylum seekers and discord between the police and wider society belong firmly in Paul’s first list, marks of those he claims, “will not inherit the Kingdom of God” (v21).

The Kingdom of Heaven test

“When did we see you a stranger?” (Matthew 25:38)

When Jesus is asked about the Kingdom of Heaven, he offers three parables. The first reminds us to be prepared. The second reminds us to be faithful. And the third warns us to be compassionate. This third parable is particularly sobering, and should give all Christians pause for thought.

Jesus divides his so-called followers into two groups - those who serve the marginalised and outcast, as He did, and those who do not. At a time when resentment against the Samaritans and Romans was widespread, this would have hit hard. These two groups were seen as an existential threat to the Jewish nation, as well the everyday lifestyle, beliefs and security of its citizens.

But in the parable of the sheep and the goats (Matthew 25:31-36), Jesus warns us that we must all give an account at the Final Judgement - not merely of how loudly we shout Christ’s name, how well we know our theology or how often we go to church, but what we have done for the hungry, the stranger, the lonely. Then, chillingly, Jesus says: “Whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.” Ultimately, our response to the vulnerable is the litmus test of genuine faith.

The asylum seekers on that bus into Portsmouth are, on any honest reading of that passage, exactly those Jesus is describing. Matthew 25 does not ask what nationality they hold or how they got here. It asks: What did you do for the stranger?

The love test

“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?” (Romans 8:35)

Fear of crisis, war, of losing our culture, that there is not enough to go around, of immigrants and asylum seekers: fear can be a powerful political force because frightened people are easier to mobilise than hopeful people. But fear is a terrible foundation for Christian action.

Paul’s question in Romans 8:35 offers a radically different way of seeing the world: “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?” Not trouble, hardship, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger or sword. The Christian is not defined by what we fear, but by love.

When asked which commandment was the greatest, Jesus said: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind,” immediately adding: “Love your neighbour as yourself” (Matthew 22:37-39).

Love is not an optional extra for Christians. It is not one virtue among many. It is the defining characteristic of a life transformed by Christ. In 1 Corinthians 13:4-7, it is described as patient and kind. It does not envy or boast. It does not dishonour others. It is not self-seeking. It is not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs. It does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

Dishonouring a frightened stranger is not love. Delighting in the fear that has been generated is not love. Keeping score of who is in and who is out is not love. Any movement that fails to promote love fails the love test. It is not Christian.

Our response

Let me be clear - I believe Patriotic Platform fails every evaluative test on whether it is genuinely Christian. I believe those who promote it are using Christianity as a cover for stoking fear and division.

While I have no sympathy for the movement, I do have some empathy with those who are being drawn in by it. I understand the fears and frustrations that lie behind their involvement. When we struggle to make ends meet, find housing or access health services, it can be deeply painful to see new arrivals seemingly supported by a system that has failed those closest to us.

I have seen how difficult it can be for a small, quiet community to discover that dozens of young men seeking asylum are suddenly being accommodated nearby, especially when the media has primed people to fear these strangers from other cultures. There are legitimate questions about how decisions are made, whether safeguarding checks are adequate, and whether the system is fair. These are not racist questions. They are questions that a responsible government should be able to answer. When they do not, promises made by extremist groups can sound enticing.

Christians should be concerned and involved, ready to ask the difficult questions about immigration, borders, asylum, the responsibilities of government and how we can best speak into those areas. We will and can disagree profoundly. What is most important is that, even in our politics, we listen to Jesus, seek guidance from scripture, grow in the fruit of the Spirit, show compassion and do everything in love.