What has stayed with me is not the politics of immigration itself, but the challenge it poses to Christians seeking to respond faithfully in an increasingly divided society.
As a Christian, I found myself asking some uncomfortable questions. What should happen when a human being is in danger? How should we respond to those who arrive on our shores? How do we hold together compassion, truth and justice when public debate is often driven by fear, anger and misinformation?
Christians can, and do, differ on immigration policy. Sensible, compassionate people can disagree about border security, asylum systems, integration, public services and the responsibilities of government. These are complex issues that deserve serious discussion.
But I find myself returning to a more fundamental question. What should happen when a human being is in danger?
The RNLI exists for one purpose: to save lives at sea. Its crews do not determine immigration policy. They do not write legislation. They do not decide who has a right to remain in the UK. They respond when people are in immediate peril.
In that moment, there is no politics. There is only a life that may be lost if help does not arrive.
As I reflect on this, I cannot help but think of the teaching of Jesus. Throughout the Gospels, He consistently moved towards those whom society regarded as outsiders. He touched lepers, spoke with Samaritans, welcomed foreigners and ate with people whom respectable society preferred to avoid.
One story seems particularly relevant. In the Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), Jesus asked a simple but uncomfortable question: who proved to be a neighbour?
The hero of the story was not the religiously respectable person who walked past suffering. It was the person who stopped.
The one who helped. The one who showed mercy.
That challenge remains as relevant today as it was two thousand years ago. As Pope Francis has written, "Every stranger who knocks at our door is an opportunity for an encounter with Jesus Christ." Whether we agree with every aspect of modern immigration policy or not, those words present a profound challenge to Christians. Before we encounter a political issue, a legal question or a policy debate, we encounter another human being made in the image of God.
This does not solve the immigration debate. It does not tell us how borders should be managed or how asylum systems should be reformed. But perhaps it reminds us that our first response to human suffering should never be indifference. Nor should it be abuse.
One of the challenges of faith is recognising that identifying as a Christian is not the same as behaving like Christ. Every generation of believers must wrestle with that distinction. The label itself is not proof of anything. Our words, attitudes and actions matter far more.
What has concerned me even more is how often public anger is fuelled by misinformation. In recent years we have all seen how quickly rumours, half-truths and false stories can spread online. Once fear takes hold, facts often struggle to catch up.
As Christians, this should matter to us. We are called not only to be compassionate but also to be truthful. Before repeating a claim, sharing a post or accepting a story because it supports our existing views, we should be willing to ask a simple question: Is it true?
The command to love our neighbour sits alongside the command to bear truthful witness. When misinformation paints groups of people as threats, villains or less deserving of compassion, the damage can be profound.
This is why I believe Christians have a responsibility to challenge falsehoods constructively. Not with contempt or mockery, but with patience, humility and a commitment to truth. Sometimes the most faithful response is simply to ask questions, seek evidence and encourage a more honest conversation.
The question is not whether a nation has the right to enforce its laws. Of course it does. The question is whether we can debate those laws without forgetting the humanity of the people involved.
Can we discuss immigration without demonising those who arrive on our shores? Can we express legitimate concerns without embracing misinformation? Can we disagree without hatred?
Perhaps that is where Christianity is most challenging. It calls us to see a person before we see a problem. It asks us to recognise human dignity before we form political opinions. It reminds us that compassion is not a weakness and mercy is not surrender. And it reminds us that truth matters.
In an age of outrage, misinformation and division, those commitments may be among the most radical Christian values of all.
Author’s note: This reflection is not an endorsement of any immigration policy, nor is it written to fuel further division. It is an attempt to respond faithfully to a difficult and emotionally charged issue, holding together compassion, truthfulness and respect for the dignity of every person.