The Danger of Loving a Nation More Than Your Neighbor
For a number of years I pastored in a church culture where conversations about Israel were common.
In our family of churches, prophecy updates were normal, and Bible studies often connected current events in the Middle East with passages from Scripture.
I preached in that world. I taught in that world. And for a long time, I never thought to question it.
In many ways, I understand why.
The Bible’s story is deeply connected to Israel.
Jesus was Jewish.
The apostles were Jewish.
God’s redemptive plan unfolded through the people of Israel.
The reality is:
Christians should oppose antisemitism.
Christians should care about the Jewish people.
Christians can hold theological convictions that Israel still has a role in God’s purposes.
None of that is the issue.
But over time something began to stir in me that I couldn’t ignore.
As I listened to and participated in conversations among believers, including fellow pastors, an uncomfortable realization began to grow in my heart.
Our passion for a nation sometimes seemed stronger than our compassion for people.
It was a question I couldn’t shake.
How had I sat in these conversations for so long without noticing it before?
We could talk at length about politics and prophecy. But the suffering of innocent people caught in the middle of war did not always seem to move me.
And slowly, an ache began to grow, not just about the conversations around me, but about my own heart.
Had I become numb to suffering that should grieve the heart of Christ?
Had I been so focused on a particular eschatology that I lost sight of the people caught in the middle?
And that’s when I began to realize that a subtle but dangerous shift can happen in the church.
Because Jesus never said the world would know His disciples by their geopolitical understanding.
He said the world would know us by one thing.
Our love.
When Faith Begins to Sound Like Foreign Policy
Many churches today are centered around “Bible teachings” and “prophecy updates” with a Bible in one hand and a newspaper in the other.
There are churches right now where:
Sermons analyze military conflicts.
Prophecy charts dominate Bible studies.
Whenever Israel enters a conflict, churches immediately call for prayer and fasting.
None of those things are inherently wrong.
But we should ask an honest question.
Was Christianity ever meant to be centered on something that begins to sound like foreign policy?
Somewhere along the way, something shifted.
Emotional energy became invested in defending a nation thousands of miles away, while living out the gospel with the neighbor next door slowly took a back seat.
When our spiritual formation is shaped more by cable news or political commentators, something inside us begins to dull.
And the scary part is, this can happen even while speaking the language of faith.
But Christianity was never meant to be centered on foreign policy.
It was meant to be centered on a person.
Jesus Christ.
The Command We Keep Complicating
When Jesus was asked about the greatest commandment, His answer was stunning in its simplicity.
“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Matthew 22v37-39
Notice what Jesus did not say.
He did not say the defining mark of His disciples would be their loyalty to a nation.
Instead, He said:
“By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” John 13v35
What set the Christian faith apart from every other religion was never meant to be political alignment.
It was meant to be love.
And when we look at the life of Jesus, we see exactly what kind of love He meant.
Jesus consistently moved toward the people others avoided.
He spoke with a Samaritan woman, someone Jews were not supposed to associate with.
He praised the faith of a Roman centurion, a representative of an occupying empire.
In Luke 10, when a man asked Jesus to clarify who counted as a neighbor, Jesus responded with the parable of the Good Samaritan.
The message was unmistakable.
Our neighbor is not defined by nationality, ethnicity, or religion.
Our neighbor is the person in need standing in front of us.
And the command of Jesus is simple.
Love them.
A Theology That Hardens the Heart
Here is where the danger lies.
Any theology no matter how sophisticated, that makes it easier for Christians to become cold hearted toward suffering people has drifted from the heart of Christ.
It is entirely possible to hold strong convictions about Israel’s place in biblical prophecy.
But if those convictions lead us to feel little compassion for suffering people in Gaza, Iran, or anywhere else in the Middle East, something has gone wrong.
The gospel does not allow us to divide the world into people who deserve compassion and people who do not.
Jesus did not love people based on their place in a prophecy chart.
He loved them because they were human beings made in the image of God.
Scripture reminds us that God’s heart has always been for the nations:
“After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb.” Revelation 7v9
Israelis.
Palestinians.
Iranians.
Americans.
Every tribe.
Every tongue.
Every nation.
Any theology that dulls our compassion for people God longs to redeem is a theology that needs to be brought back under the authority of Christ.
Before We Defend, We Should Weep
I saw this dynamic play out in a conversation not long ago.
I was speaking with someone about the war in Gaza, and I mentioned the staggering number of children that Israel has killed in the conflict. Some estimates have put the number at more than 20,000.
Their response came quickly.
“Well, Hamas hides behind children. Israel does everything it can to avoid civilian casualties.”
As I walked away from that conversation, something unsettled me.
Why was our first instinct to explain it?
Why was our first instinct to defend Israel?
Why wasn’t our first instinct to simply stop… and grieve?
Twenty thousand children.
Pause and let that sink in.
Before we debate military strategy, before we analyze political responsibility, before we justify the actions of any government, shouldn’t that number alone break our hearts?
Followers of Jesus should never grow comfortable hearing about the deaths of innocent people.
Scripture tells us that every human being bears the image of God. Every life carries dignity because every life comes from Him.
Christians may disagree about politics.
But Christians should never disagree about compassion.
Our first instinct should not be defense.
Our first instinct should be mercy.
Jesus consistently moved toward the suffering. He wept over cities. He welcomed children. He had compassion on crowds because He recognized them like sheep without a shepherd.
If the suffering of innocent people does not move us, something in our hearts has grown numb.
And if our theology makes it easier to justify suffering than to mourn it, then our theology has drifted from the heart of Christ.
The people suffering in Gaza, Israel, Iran, and across the world are not talking points in a geopolitical debate.
They are human beings made in the image of God.
And their suffering should break our hearts long before we rush to defend a nation.
Peace Without the Prince of Peace
One of the most frequently quoted verses in conversations about Israel is found in the Psalms.
“Pray for the peace of Jerusalem.” Psalm 122v6
Christians repeat it often.
It shows up in sermons, social media posts, and prayer gatherings.
And there is nothing wrong with praying for peace.
The world desperately needs peace in that region.
But there is a question we rarely ask.
What kind of peace are we praying for?
Because the Scriptures are clear that the deepest peace any nation can experience is not political stability.
It is reconciliation with God.
The Bible calls Jesus the Prince of Peace.
Yet many believers passionately pray for the peace of Jerusalem while rarely praying for something far more important.
That the people of Israel, like every nation on earth, would turn to Jesus Christ.
The apostle Paul modeled this exact posture.
“Brothers, my heart’s desire and prayer to God for them is that they may be saved.” Romans 10v1
Paul loved his people deeply.
But his greatest longing was not national security.
It was their salvation.
So yes, pray for peace in Jerusalem.
But we should also pray that Israel, and every nation on earth would come to know the Prince of Peace, Jesus Christ.
Returning to the Heart of Jesus
We as the church must be careful here.
It is possible to speak passionately about a nation while slowly becoming indifferent to people.
It is possible to defend theological systems while neglecting the very command Jesus placed at the center of discipleship.
Jesus did not command His followers to analyze the nations. He commanded them to love their neighbors.
The ones next door.
The ones across the world.
The ones suffering in places we have been taught to fear.
Over the years, as I have reflected on these things, I have come back again and again to something simple.
Our ultimate allegiance was never meant to belong to a nation.
Not to Israel.
Not to America.
Not to any political movement or prophetic timeline.
Our allegiance belongs to Jesus Christ.
And when we look at the life of Jesus, we see the kind of heart His followers are meant to carry.
A heart that moves toward the suffering.
A heart that grieves the loss of life.
A heart that refuses to divide the world into people who deserve compassion and people who do not.
The heart of Jesus is not hardened by politics.
It is moved by mercy.
Every person bears the image of God.
And every nation, including Israel, Iran, Palestine, and America, ultimately needs the same thing.
Repentance and faith in Jesus Christ.
So yes, pray for the peace of Jerusalem.
But also pray for the repentance of every nation.
And while we pray for nations thousands of miles away, we must never forget the neighbor Jesus has placed right in front of us.
Because the kingdom of God has never been built through allegiance to a nation.
It has always been built through people who carry the heart of Jesus into the world.
