Every once in a while, a question hits so hard that it refuses to leave. For many Americans — especially those who grew up in Christian churches — one of those questions is this: How can any church that claims to follow Jesus support the harshest actions of ICE, including the recent shootings in Minnesota? You don’t need a degree in theology to feel the contradiction. You only need common sense, and common sense tells us something is deeply off when the teachings of Jesus — a man who spent His life defending the vulnerable — are used to justify policies that break families apart and, in recent cases, end in fatal shootings. Let’s walk through this plainly, without spin.

The Minnesota shootings exposed the moral contradiction in real time. On January 7, 2026, ICE officers fatally shot Renee Nicole Good in Minneapolis. The shooting sparked immediate outrage, protests, and national scrutiny. The situation escalated further when protesters disrupted a church service in St. Paul because one of the pastors, David Easterwood, was also serving as the acting ICE Field Office Director for St. Paul, Minnesota. The church framed the protest as an attack on religious freedom. Pastors warned of “spiritual warfare” and portrayed ICE critics as enemies of God’s work. But this framing conveniently avoided the central moral question: How does a church reconcile the killing of a civilian with the teachings of Jesus? Instead of wrestling with that question, some leaders leaned on religious language to defend the institution — religious language not supported by the Gospel.

Jesus’ teachings are crystal clear about how to treat strangers and the vulnerable. You don’t have to dig far into the Gospels to see what Jesus thought about outsiders, immigrants, and vulnerable families. Over and over, He tells His followers to welcome the stranger, feed the hungry, protect the weak, and show mercy even when it’s inconvenient. Here are a few examples in the Gospel:  “I was a stranger, and you welcomed me.” “Love your neighbor as yourself.” “Whatever you do to the least of these, you do to me.” There’s no footnote saying “unless they crossed a border without paperwork.” There’s no exception for “unless it’s politically unpopular.” There’s certainly no justification for state violence. So, when churches defend ICE’s harshest practices — including fatal shootings — the disconnect is obvious. It’s not subtle. It’s not complicated. It’s a direct contradiction of the core message they claim to preach.
How does religion get weaponized to justify state violence? The Minnesota church response is a perfect example of a broader pattern: When ICE or CBP (U.S. Customs and Border Protection) commit violence, some churches immediately shift into a defensive posture, using religious language to sanctify the state’s actions. The logic goes like this: The government is ordained by God. ICE officers are “ministers of justice.” Criticizing ICE is criticizing God’s order. Protesting violence is “spiritual warfare.” This rhetorical move does two things: It shifts attention away from the violence itself. It casts ICE as a righteous force and critics as enemies of God. This is not Christianity. This is political propaganda wrapped in religious language.

What does the Bible actually say about lying and bearing false witness? If churches want to defend ICE’s actions — including shootings, raids, and public statements that often contradict eyewitness accounts — they also have to reckon with something else: the Bible is clear-cut about lying. From the Ten Commandments onward, Scripture treats truth-telling as a moral cornerstone: “You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.” In biblical times, “bearing false witness” wasn’t just about lying in general — it specifically referred to using falsehoods to justify punishment, violence, or legal action against another person. In other words, it condemned exactly the kind of institutional dishonesty that often surrounds state violence today. And the Bible doesn’t stop there:  Proverbs calls lying “an abomination.” Jesus says Satan is “the father of lies.” Paul tells believers to “put away falsehood.” There is no biblical loophole that says lying is acceptable if it protects the state, the church, or a political agenda. So, when ICE releases statements that contradict video evidence, when officials minimize harm, when churches repeat talking points that are factually untrue, or when violence is justified with narratives that later fall apart — that isn’t just a political problem. It’s a spiritual one. Using lies to justify violence is the exact kind of false witness Scripture condemns most strongly.

Fear-based Theology makes cruelty seem like protection. For decades, a large segment of American Christianity has been discipled more by fear than by the Sermon on the Mount. Fear of crime. Fear of cultural change. Fear of losing control. Fear of “outsiders.” Fear is powerful. It can make good people justify almost anything if they believe it keeps them safe.  But fear is also the opposite of what Jesus taught. “Perfect love casts out fear,” he said. Yet many churches have flipped that upside down: fear now casts out love. When fear becomes the guiding principle, compassion becomes optional. Mercy becomes weakness. And cruelty becomes “necessary.” The Nazis used that to kill over 6 million, and the Trump Administration is using that same fear to build concentration camps here and abroad.

Let's take a brief Look at how Fascism has used religion to justify violence. If the dynamic between ICE and certain churches feels unsettling, that’s because it echoes a pattern we’ve seen before. Throughout the 20th century, Fascist movements learned that religion is one of the most effective tools for manufacturing obedience. A few common tactics recur: Fascist regimes claim divine authority for the state. Mussolini framed the nation as sacred. Loyalty became a moral duty. They elevate the leader to a quasi-religious figure.  Nazi Germany portrayed Hitler as a messianic savior. Churches aligned with the regime preached obedience as a spiritual obligation. They weaponize scripture to demand obedience. Romans 13 was used in Nazi Germany, Franco’s Spain, and Pinochet’s Chile to silence dissent. They frame critics as enemies of God. Dissenters were portrayed as threats to divine order — exactly the framing used in Minnesota when protesters were cast as attackers of Christianity itself. They use religion to sanctify violence. Once violence is framed as holy, anything becomes permissible. This is why the parallels matter. Not because today is identical to the past — but because the pattern is identical.

The teachings of Jesus are radical, which is why many churches quietly avoid them. Jesus’ teachings are hard. They demand sacrifice. They demand empathy. They demand putting others first, even when it costs something. Many churches prefer a version of Christianity that is safe, predictable, patriotic, comfortable, and aligned with their political tribe. So, they emphasize: personal salvation, sexual morality, obedience, patriotism, and quietly downplay the parts of Jesus that demand costly compassion. It’s easier to preach about heaven than about hospitality. It’s easier to preach about sin than about sacrifice. It’s easier to preach about obedience than about justice. Many in this country have always taken the easy way instead of the hard way, even when the hard way is the right thing to do.

So where does that leave us? At the end of the day, the contradiction between Jesus’ teachings and support for ICE’s harshest actions — including the Minnesota shootings — isn’t a mystery. It’s the predictable result of decades and in many cases centuries of fear-based politics, media influence, nationalism, and selective theology. But here’s the hopeful part: many Christians, including pastors, theologians, and everyday believers, are pushing back. They’re reclaiming the parts of their faith that emphasize compassion, mercy, and justice. They’re calling out the moral inconsistency. They’re refusing to let politics override the teachings of Jesus. And they’re asking the same common-sense question you are: How can a church that claims to follow Jesus support cruelty?

The truth is simple: it can’t. Not without abandoning the heart of the Gospel.