We Keep Making People The Problem.

One of the deepest dangers in both our theology and politics today, especially in spaces dominated by Christian language, is the way we keep making people the problem, instead of actually addressing the problems themselves.

We demonize and even criminalize women who seek abortions, or even miscarry, believing this will somehow end abortion altogether. But the data and our own humanity tells another story. When we punish women, we only increase the number of unsafe abortions, raise maternal and infant mortality rates, and deepen cycles of poverty, abuse, and fear. What actually lowers abortion rates? Access to healthcare. Paid family leave. Affordable housing. Relief from domestic violence. Compassion.

Likewise, we treat immigrants and asylum seekers as criminals for things as minor as paperwork errors or overstayed visas. Some are locked away in privately run detention centers where they endure inhumane conditions and violence. Families are ripped apart. Children suffer trauma that lasts a lifetime. And all the while, the brokenness of the immigration system itself goes unaddressed. Instead of clearing the hurdles towards legal citizenship, we criminalize people for being “illegal.” The problem isn’t the people, it’s the system. But it’s easier to scapegoat and demonize than to reform.

This happens in other areas too. We criminalize homelessness instead of confronting the housing crisis. We punish drug addiction instead of investing in mental health care and community healing. We shame queer people instead of confronting our own fear and misunderstanding. We give unqualified support to nations and justify their oppression of civilians in the name of war. Again and again, our “solutions” are really just acts of harm against people who are already suffering.

At the core of this, it’s more about hatred and seeking vengeance towards those we’ve come to believe are our enemies rather than seeking to love all people as our neighbors, like Jesus calls us to do.

All of this is often wrapped in a familiar religious phrase: “We can’t tolerate sin.”

But what does that actually mean when it gets used this way? Too often, it means putting ourselves in the seat of judge and jury, deciding who is “in” and who is “out,” who is pure and who is corrupt, who is worthy of grace and who deserves punishment. It turns “those people” into being synonymous with sin, something we imagine they are guilty of, but never us.

But this is not the gospel.

Jesus did not come into the world to condemn it, but to save it (John 3:17). Condemnation is not the way he came to save the world. Love is.

He never once used power to shame the vulnerable or criminalize the desperate. He drew near to those many considered to be sinners, not to crush them under the weight of the law, but to lift them into healing, wholeness, and beloved community. He confronted systems, not to punish the people caught in them, but to free them. All this and more resulted in him being criminalized himself for doing so.

And yet the popular theology of our time in so much of American Christianity today suggests that Jesus is coming back to judge us for being too compassionate, too empathetic, too soft on sin. As if mercy were the problem. As if love were the threat.

But when Jesus spoke of judgment, it wasn’t aimed at those who were too forgiving. It was aimed at those who ignored the poor, turned away the immigrant, and left the vulnerable to suffer while pretending they were defending God (Matthew 25).

Jesus’ harshest words in the gospel were never spoken towards those who were “too loving” or “too compassionate.” They were spoken towards those who used their religion as a tool of oppression and self serving power.

Christianity was never meant to be about enforcing moral purity at the expense of our neighbors. It’s about seeing every human being, every single one, as a bearer of God’s image, deserving of dignity, protection, and care.

As St. John Chrysostom said so well in the 4th century, “The Church is a hospital, and not a courtroom, for souls. She does not condemn on behalf of sins, but grants remission of sins.”

We were never called to be the moral police of the world. We were called to serve and love others as ourselves.

When our theology leads us to scapegoat rather than serve, to punish rather than heal, to condemn rather than love, we’ve stopped following Jesus and started following fear.

And fear, no matter how righteous it sounds, never saves anyone. It only brings more destruction and misery.

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” -Matthew 11:28-30 (MSG)