This reflection by Bishop Anderson Jeremiah challenges divisive narratives linking immigration to Britain’s religious decline. He argues that Christ never left us; rather, humanity has strayed from His teachings. Drawing on Isaiah’s vision of hope, the article calls Christians to embrace hospitality, generosity, and compassion, rejecting ethno-nationalist rhetoric. Advent becomes a time to reaffirm Christ’s presence and work for justice, inclusion, and healing in a fractured society.
The current political and social debate in Britain may not be adequately addressing the root causes of the nation’s challenges. It rests on a false, toxic premise: that British identity equals Christian identity equals White European identity. This equation is not merely exclusionary; it is a calculated political tool designed to weaponise faith and history against minority groups, particularly immigrants and refugees.
The scapegoating of immigrants
I am an immigrant, and I came to this country as a student two decades ago. The negative narrative of scapegoating immigrants, which currently dominates our political and media landscape—the notion that our cities and towns are being overrun by a marauding army of illegal immigrants—feels, in many ways, personal. This sensationalism, however, is based on inaccurate facts. Government statistics have consistently shown that immigration to Britain is complex, and the proportional percentage of immigrants has declined. Yet, this false reality is being used to distract from systemic failures. The true societal issues—deep-seated economic and social failures caused by successive political governments—are being unfairly blamed on a small group of migrants, immigrants, asylum seekers, and refugees. These vulnerable groups are being forced to bear the weight of institutional incompetence.
Equally misleading is the misplaced perception that the decline of the Christian religion in Britain is a direct result of immigration. This is historically and theologically unsound. The steady decline in Christian affiliation, particularly within the mainline churches, has been evident for decades. In fact, the opposite is true: a significant percentage of migrants were Christians, which boosted the numbers for Christians. This trend is not unique to Britain; it mirrors variable religious participation across Europe. To connect this long-term societal shift to recent immigration is an attempt to create a scapegoat where none exists. This false premise fuels campaigns like “putting Christ back into Christmas,” pushed by divisive figures.
Christ never left
I am a Christian. Theologically, the ‘putting Christ back into Christmas’ campaign is entirely misguided. God came into our world through Jesus Christ and became one of us; Jesus lived, suffered, died, and rose again. The incarnation of Jesus is a reminder that God’s presence never left the world. Christmas is a reminder of that great incarnation. Christ never left us. The truth is that humanity has wandered away. Jesus Christ is not an object or a Christmas decoration to be put back; He is a life lived by His teachings. Our failure lies in the actions and beliefs of the community itself. Political opportunists are weaponising ‘Christ,’ cynically blaming the movement of people for socio-economic decay and religious decline. We must reject this brazen populist religious ethno-nationalism before we sleepwalk into a deep societal crisis.
Isaiah’s vision: hope amid crisis
For those who seek justice and pursue compassion, the social and political realities might feel like entering a long, cold winter of spiritual hibernation. How do we sustain life, love, and faith when the moral landscape is so debilitating?
In the Bible, the prophet Isaiah speaks powerfully to such a context. Isaiah (11:1–10) saw a divine disruption and a world remade. His vision was unflinching; it takes courage to hear it. As we hear in the first few chapters, Isaiah saw the bruises, the sores, the bleeding wounds—a desolate country, burned cities, and Zion left like a besieged stronghold. He saw God sickened by self-congratulatory offerings. In such a concerning context, Isaiah might have started by immediately laying into the injustices. And yes, he does deliver a firm denunciation. He calls out the inhabitants of Jerusalem for devouring the vineyard, claiming the spoils of the poor, for “crushing [the] people, by grinding the face of the poor” (3:15), and for their arrogance. He sees their complicity and injustice.
Yet, with all that clarity, Isaiah does not start with denunciation. There is something more powerful, something more important, something ultimate. Isaiah starts with HOPE: “A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse” (11:1). This is the foundation of Christian hope.
Returning to Christian hospitality
I am British. To truly embrace our Christian heritage, we must return to the core moral imperative of Christian teachings, which is centred on the action of hospitality and generosity, not on exclusionary rhetoric. Christians are commanded to be kind to strangers, to support the wounded, and to bring life to the suffering (Luke 4). When we provide shelter to those seeking refuge and sanctuary to those running from fear, we are embodying the presence of Christ. Jesus made it clear that when we are attentive to “the least of our brethren,” we are being kind and generous to Jesus Christ Himself (Matthew 25:40).
The call to action
Jesus Christ does not need our help to be present; He is already here. Our duty is to follow Christ’s teachings to build a better society where everyone can feel safe and welcome.
The Christian call is to unconditionally follow the virtues of hospitality, generosity, kindness, and compassion that Jesus commanded—to embrace Christ in the stranger. Politicians must be held accountable for their political pandering and their failure to counter the divisive, frenzied narratives. By remaining silent, we inadvertently allow figures with no accountability or shallow understanding of Christian faith to instrumentalise the disenfranchisement of the most vulnerable. There is a need to be alert that these short-sighted, prejudiced ideas are not only detrimental to social well-being but threaten to destroy the very Christian heritage of this nation that many people claim to protect. As part of the human community, we share a responsibility to uphold humanity and care for each other, recognising our deep and essential interconnectedness.
For Christians, Advent is a season of uncertain waiting. It is my prayer that during this season of waiting, Christ’s love would be poured out like a balm to heal the gaping wounds afflicting both individuals and communities, that restoration might happen from the inside out.
