Updated 11:50 a.m. EDT, 6 February 2026
Can You Turn Your Cheek to Class Politics?
Imagine you are leaving Sunday church service to go to brunch with friends. On the way there, you pass through a neighborhood that is clearly poverty-stricken. Your first thought is, “Oh, those poor people. I bet the food ministry could help them!” This thought is familiar, compassionate, and deeply shaped by the language many churches use when they speak about poverty. Charity, after all, is a central Christian virtue. Compassion that stops at charity, however, risks narrowing our moral vision. When poverty is framed as solely an opportunity for aid, the deeper question of why such poverty exists is quietly set aside.
To begin, contemporary poverty on a vast scale is not a personal failure or a natural condition. Rather, it is the predictable outcome of an economic system that continually extracts wealth upward. Capitalism functions through a rigid class relationship: the working class survives by selling its labor power, while the capital class accumulates wealth by owning land, resources, and financial institutions. This system extends globally. Churches respond to the problem by donating millions in charitable aid to countries in the global south, but rarely denounce the capitalist system that produces and maintains that poverty. The relationship between capital and labor is not neutral; it prioritizes profit over human life. Institutions like the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and World Bank enforce debt structures, while multinational corporations strip resources from native lands. Refusing to name this injustice creates churches that are moral band-aids, rather than institutions that fight for equality and justice under Christ.
This notion may seem disconnected from Jesus’ teachings, but it is more closely aligned than one imagines. After stating that loving God is the greatest commandment, Jesus adds, “And the second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Matt. 22:39). What exactly does this mean, and how does it relate to justice? According to philosopher Nicholas Wolterstorff, in his book Justice in Love, love and justice are fundamentally compatible. They are not opposites; to love properly, one must also promote the just treatment and flourishing of the other. Justice in love looks like calling out the unjust systems that prevent your neighbor’s flourishing. This sentiment is the core of Christian agapic love.
“Justice in love looks like calling out the unjust systems that prevent your neighbor’s flourishing.”
Jesus performed justice in love repeatedly. He confronted the economic and religious corruption of the Temple (Luke 19), openly condemned the hypocrisy of religious leaders (Matthew 23), and in Mark 7 rebuked leaders for manipulating the law for personal gain. Jesus consistently stood against unjust systems, fighting for the just treatment of those around him.
The question, then, is how do we define our neighbor? Jesus does not offer a neat definition, but the Torah gives us clues. Embedded within the law is the protection of the fatherless, the widow, the poor, the oppressed, the foreigner, and the stranger (see Exodus 22; Leviticus 19; Deuteronomy 24). The Year of Jubilee is the clearest example of this concern. After seven cycles of seven years, debts were canceled, land was returned to those who had lost it, and the land itself was given rest. Leviticus 25 embodies God’s concern for justice and the formation of a society not built on inequality.
Though these commands belong to the Old Testament, the principles behind them remain. God is deeply concerned with justice and the protection of the vulnerable, so too is his Son. Our neighbors include the guy in Humanities 101 you cannot stand, the mother asking for formula outside Walmart, and the immigrant struggling to survive. To love your neighbor is to embody God’s concern for justice, to stand against systematic injustice, and to love those made in the image of God: everyone.
When the topic of class politics enters religious conversation, many people shy away from “taking a side”. They position themselves in the middle, claiming neutrality as the safest option. I urge you to reject this way of thinking. Neutrality while ignoring the cries of the vulnerable and the injustice produced by capitalism is not neutral at all. It is taking the side of the oppressor. In doing so, you abandon the call to love your neighbor and foster a negligence that invites others to do the same.
“Neutrality while ignoring the cries of the vulnerable and the injustice produced by capitalism is not neutral at all.”
Jesus did not remain neutral. He healed the sick, welcomed the outcast, and openly critiqued unjust systems. If Jesus made this a core element of his earthly ministry, then it must be central to ours as well.
Saint Maria of Paris, a nun who led resistance efforts during World War II, spent her life running shelters, hiding Jews, and smuggling people to safety. She worked among the vulnerable every day until her martyrdom by gas chamber in 1943. Her most famous words still ring true: “The Church must turn to the cry of the world, to the social hell, to injustice, to crises…”
My friends, we cannot selectively turn our cheeks to either systemic injustice or class politics. The essential calling of Christians is not merely to alleviate the symptoms of injustice, but to tear out its roots. We are called to justice in love.
Bio: Mack is a double major in Special Education and Bible Theology. She is a member of the track and field team, aspiring theologian and liberal feminist.
