The debate about how we tackle asylum and immigration in the UK continues to rage, causing division, arguments and generating plenty of political heat in our newsrooms and parliaments. Charities such as the RNLI have faced criticism for rescuing those attempting to cross the Channel in small boats, while Nigel Farage has recently called for charities that help asylum seekers reach Britain to face prosecution. (The Guardian)
The rhetoric has become increasingly heated, with Reform UK’s Robert Jenrick suggesting that the Royal Marines should be permitted to use lethal force in certain circumstances when intercepting small boats, although Farage subsequently clarified that this would only apply in self-defence. (Politico)
There are legitimate questions to be asked and answered about border controls, resources and the rule of law, but I cannot help feeling that the debate has become so polarised that we are losing sight of the person. Have we reduced human beings to a political problem, something to be argued over, used to build momentum, stoke division and ultimately win votes and power?
In 2024, Logos Scotland published Shake the Dust: A Biblical Perspective on Asylum and Immigration. The report considered how biblical principles should inform our approach to asylum and immigration and what these might mean for government policy. At its heart was the importance of recognising the humanity of those arriving in our country, at a time when so much of the political conversation seemed to be turning them into a problem to be fought over and solved.
People seeking asylum have different histories, motivations and circumstances. The Christian belief that everyone is made in the image of God means that their inherent dignity does not depend on nationality, immigration status or economic contribution. Of course, recognising someone’s dignity does not automatically mean they have a right to settle in Britain, but it does mean they should be treated with humanity and respect, regardless of how they arrive on our shores. Governments have responsibilities towards their own citizens, including maintaining a functioning immigration system, protecting public services and enforcing the law. They also have responsibilities towards those seeking refuge. These are not always easy to reconcile, but neither can simply be ignored.
Leave the politics at the door?
During a webinar hosted by Logos Scotland, we heard about the work being done by a church in Dundee supporting asylum seekers. The abiding message from that discussion was that, no matter how much the church gave to this community, those involved felt they received tenfold in return. It was a wonderful reminder that welcoming and helping others is not simply a one-way act of charity, but something that can enrich the whole community.
As Christians and as churches in our communities, we have to be able to separate the person from the politics. When we are faced with people in need, what should our response be? I am never one to advocate that faith and politics should be kept separate, but perhaps in this instance there is an argument for putting the political debate to one side. This may be the one occasion when I would say: leave the politics at the door and help the stranger in your midst.
Of course, that is easier said than done. Our politicians somehow have to balance Britain’s international responsibilities with their obligations to those already living here, while churches face their own version of that dilemma. In his recent book The Future Starts with Us, Gordon Brown argues that meaningful change begins with local communities and the relationships built within them. He recognises the important role churches play in building community wellbeing and cohesion. Yet we have seen across Britain how the arrival of asylum seekers in local communities can lead to division and tension, leaving churches in a difficult position. What should a church do when its desire to welcome and support newcomers comes into conflict with the concerns of its existing community? Should it step back to avoid upsetting local residents, or reach out to those in need, even at the risk of creating further tensions?
It is a tightrope that many churches are walking. They want to help, but they also understand the fears and concerns of the communities they serve. Those concerns cannot simply be dismissed, nor should they become a reason to turn away someone in need. Perhaps this is where churches have something particularly valuable to offer, not just in providing practical assistance, but in bringing people together, listening to their concerns and helping to build understanding where division has taken hold.
Compassion and competing responsibilities
We are in danger of reducing complex moral, political and theological questions to a simple choice between doing something and doing nothing, or between being compassionate and being responsible. The reality is considerably more complicated. There is a genuine debate about where our responsibilities begin and end. I remember JD Vance drawing on Catholic teaching to argue that our obligations follow an order, beginning with family, then neighbours and community, before extending to the wider world. Others interpret those Christian responsibilities differently, placing greater emphasis on our obligations to people beyond our own borders. Gordon Brown, for example, makes a strong case for recognising our shared global responsibilities alongside those we have to our own communities.
These are not insignificant differences. They have real consequences for how we think about immigration and the responsibilities of governments, churches and individuals. But whatever position we take on the hierarchy of our obligations, the Christian calling to welcome the stranger, feed the hungry and care for those in need remains. We may disagree about the extent of our responsibilities or how they should be expressed in government policy, but when someone in need arrives in our community, surely we cannot simply look the other way.
I don’t pretend that finding the right balance is easy. Churches must be sensitive to local tensions without allowing those tensions to determine whether they offer help. They must be willing to listen to those who are anxious about change while also recognising the needs and dignity of those who have arrived. This requires compassion and understanding on all sides, and a willingness to resist the temptation to retreat into opposing camps. It is about finding a way forward that brings people together rather than stoking further division. That is no small task, but surely it is one worth pursuing.
Immigration will always involve difficult decisions, competing interests and moral dilemmas. No biblical principle provides a simple answer to every practical policy question, but those principles should shape how decisions are made and how the people affected by them are treated. While the political debate rages on, I would like to hear more from our faith communities, particularly about the role churches can play in building consensus and cohesion at a time when so much division is being sown. Churches are part of the communities experiencing these tensions and are well placed to help people navigate them, not by pretending disagreements don’t exist, but by reminding us of the humanity of everyone involved.
When we see images on our television screens of people crossing the Channel in small boats, what is our first reaction? Is it anger or compassion? We can disagree about immigration policy, the responsibilities of government and the difficult choices that need to be made. But surely our humanity should not be the first casualty of political disagreement.
Read Logos Scotland’s report, Shake the Dust: A Biblical Perspective on Asylum and Immigration.