Church leaders condemn government plan to send refugees to Rwanda

Photo by Janosch Diggelmann on Unsplash

In their Easter homilies, the heads of the Anglican and Catholic churches, Archbishop Justin Welby and Cardinal Vincent Nichols, both expressed grave concern over wars in the world and condemned the UK government's plan to deport asylum seekers to Rwanda.

During the Easter Vigil at Westminster Cathedral Cardinal Nichols said: "Wars disfigure our world. We live, today, under renewed threat, while the destruction of violence wrecks millions of lives, in Ukraine, in every theatre of conflict... We see more than an echo of the Exodus in the millions of people who move across the face of our earth, some fleeing violence, others poverty, or the effects of climate change. We see them exploited by people smugglers and by those who traffic them into modern slavery, crimes which we must combat.

"We know the huge challenges there are, internationally, in finding responses to this issue, responses that must match the desire to help with the limited resources on which there are so many calls. We pray for those whose aim each day is just to survive. And we pray that those who seek solutions do so with compassion, and with regard for the dignity which is innate to every human being. This week's policy announcement simply lacks these qualities."

In his Easter Sunday homily at Canterbury Cathedral, Archbishop Justin Welby said Boris Johnson's plan to send asylum seekers to Rwanda does not "stand the judgment of God," He said the principle of deporting asylum seekers 4,000 miles from where they sought sanctuary is akin to "subcontracting our responsibilities" and the "opposite of the nature of God".

Speaking on Radio 4's The World at One programme, Catholic minister for Brexit opportunities Jacob Rees-Mogg, said Archbishop Welby misunderstood the policy and that it was in fact "almost an Easter story of redemption" for Rwanda. He said the UK was "providing an opportunity to Rwanda" and that the policy therefore "must be a good thing".

Rees-Mogg added: "I think he misunderstands what the policy is trying to achieve, and that it isn't an abandonment of responsibility. It is in fact a taking-on of a very difficult responsibility. The problem that is being dealt with is that people are risking their lives in the hands of people traffickers to get into this country illegally. Now, it's not the illegal bit of it, it is the encouragement of people traffickers that needs to be stopped."

Read the Archbishop of Canterbury's Easter sermon, preached during the 8.10am service of Holy Communion at Canterbury Cathedral on Sunday morning.

This morning what did you wake up to?

In the UK, we might be waking up to lighter mornings and warmer days, but families across the country are waking up to cold homes and empty stomachs as we face the greatest cost of living crisis we have known in our lifetimes. And because of this they wake up with fear.

Further afield, people are waking up to horrors they never imagined possible. Last month, President Zelensky gave a speech in which he said 'the end of the world has arrived'. Ukrainians have woken up to the end of the world as they knew it. Now they are awakened by the noises of war, and the sickening reality of terror. They wake up to mortal fear.

Imagine Mary's waking thoughts on that first Easter morning. Her state of mind must have been grim. The deepest desire for it all to be different. Anger at the disciples for running away. Misery at the thought of the task before her.

Such a sense of helplessness will have been common this morning. Many will be awakening in refugee camps, separated from loved ones still on the front line, grieving for those missing, raped, abused, or killed. Wondering how to cope. Mary and her companions did not know how to cope with the stone in front of the tomb. "What will we do?"

This bad awakening was justified. The tasks were impossible. The events of the past days traumatic. Strength could not meet the demand. For many in this country the news from Ukraine is terrible, but the rising cost of power, fuel and basic food will be the first and overwhelming thought of the day. For others it will be the continued deep sense of loss of someone from Covid, or during Covid, to whom they could not say a proper farewell. The news might move on, but grief does not.

Others will be struggling at work, or feel a deep sense of injustice at the way they have been mistreated by family, friends or employers. Sorrow is often a private burden, betrayal a private wound, grief and disappointment private agonies. We focus on the great events of the day in the news, rightly: yet every life has its own traumas, joys, celebrations and laments. The first Easter was experienced by individuals, not by the world on social media.

What does the resurrection of Jesus Christ have to say not just to our common fears, but to those that are individually felt?

First, God doesn't just recognise the horrors and the sufferings of the world: he enters into them on the Cross. In dying for us, he sees and knows the wounds that cause us so much pain. He hears the cry of the mothers in Ukraine, he sees the fear of boys too young to become soldiers, and he knows the vulnerability of the orphans and refugees. Closer to home, he sees the humiliation of the grandparent visiting the foodbank for the first time, the desperate choice of parents in poverty and the grief and weariness of the pandemic.

The resurrection of Jesus is not a magic wand that makes the world perfect. But the resurrection of Christ is the tectonic shift in the way the cosmos works. It is the conquest of death and the opening of eternal life, through Jesus a gift offered to every human being who reaches out to him. Not just for individuals, but setting a benchmark for every society because God is Lord of every society and nation.

This is what we proclaim at Easter. It is a season of life and hope, of repentance and renewal. This week in the Eastern Orthodox world it is Holy Week, the greatest time for repentance. Muslims are in Ramadan, a time for purification and change, coming to Eid. Jews celebrate the Passover and liberation. Let this be a time for Russian ceasefire, withdrawal and a commitment to talks. This is a time for resetting the ways of peace, not for what Bismarck called blood and iron. Let Christ prevail! Let the darkness of war be banished.

And this season is also why there are such serious ethical questions about sending asylum seekers overseas. The details are for politics and politicians. The principle must stand the judgement of God and it cannot. It cannot carry the weight of resurrection justice, of life conquering death. It cannot carry the weight of the resurrection that was first to the least valued, for it privileges the rich and strong. And it cannot carry the weight of our national responsibility as a country formed by Christian values, because sub-contracting out our responsibilities, even to a country that seeks to do well like Rwanda, is the opposite of the nature of God who himself took responsibility for our failures.

Through the historical reality of the resurrection of Jesus, God gives our lives purpose and our society resilience. God calls nations to live in the knowledge of God's love through Jesus, springing up in us by the gift of God's Spirit as permanent place of refreshing in dry places, and hope in dark places. That is true global power.

More than that, the resurrection, in its conquest of death, promises each individual a life that is abundant and will overflow into eternity.

It promises each nation, and every victim and survivor, that the injustices, cruelties, evil deeds and soulless institutions of this world do not have the last word.

That last word is God's victory shout, the offer of life as possession, of a death sentence for the wickedness of this world, of justice against the evildoer. None will escape justice, and all are offered mercy where there is true repentance, sorrow for sin and surrender to Christ.

Jesus is alive - and he addresses head on all of our fears, together and alone. It means whilst we wake in a world so often characterised by pain and suffering, there is another more defining, more compelling, more true story to wake up to.

It is not complicated to receive the gift of the life of Christ. It costs no more than to surrender our lives to God, lives we cannot keep. In that surrender we join the journey into life everlasting, we are caught in his hands as was Mary who returned to the disciples saying "I have seen the Lord".

Jesus' resurrection, dead first, now alive, changed history. It changed societies, shaped nations. It calls us each to live resurrection shaped and filled lives now, and to mould resurrection filled societies in our world today and in the future.

Read Cardinal Vincent Nichols Easter Vigil homily given at Westminster Cathedral:

My brothers and sisters, there is such joy in our being here tonight. For two long years in the face of the pandemic we have stayed apart. But in these days of Holy Week, this Cathedral has again been full, even as it is this evening. Here I have sensed among us all a fresh attentiveness, an eagerness to be together again. It is, I believe, an eagerness born of longing, the eagerness that marks the meeting between loved ones who have been too long separated, through this time of isolation and bereavement.

Tonight, there are two images that focus our attention: the candle and the cross. They are two great banners for us to carry, two emblems, two trophies to raise. With them we can find our way, stepping confidently forward, with sensitivity, courage and keen insight.

First, the candle, the Easter Candle. It shines out to proclaim the best of all news - that Christ is risen. Tonight, our readings place that Good News in the context of the history of our salvation. We have spent time listening to this great narrative of God's plan for his people. In doing so we can weave into each step something of our own story too, with our hardships, joys and anxieties.

In the first reading, we heard of our origins, our deepest ancestry, the source of our lives. Then, as we listened to the escape of people from slavery, perhaps we happened to recall the moments of danger through which we have lived, too, when all seemed lost. And no story is complete without its treasured intimacy, the love song of our lives, the yearnings of the heart, the cleansing waters of love. We heard of them in Ezekiel and maybe brought to mind our own beloved.

Yet there is more. As we move through this Vigil, we can also think of our world, so marked by generosity and compassion, and yet also by vengeance and hostility. Wars disfigure our world. We live, today, under renewed threat, while the destruction of violence wrecks millions of lives, in Ukraine, in every theatre of conflict. We see more than an echo of the Exodus in the millions of people who move across the face of our earth, some fleeing violence, others poverty, or the effects of climate change. We see them exploited by people smugglers and by those who traffic them into modern slavery, crimes which we must combat. We know the huge challenges there are, internationally, in finding responses to this issue, responses that must match the desire to help with the limited resources on which there are so many calls. We pray for those whose aim each day is just to survive. And we pray that those who seek solutions do so with compassion, and with regard for the dignity which is innate to every human being. This week's policy announcement simply lacks these qualities. The reflections of our Vigil this evening are not all comfortable.

So it is all the more important that we firmly grasp the candle, the light of Christ, allowing him to illumine our steps, so that we choose them carefully, no longer crashing into the furniture or fumbling in the dark for what we are seeking. In the symbolic action of our Liturgy, we have seen this light overcome the darkness. The light of Christ is for us a source of unconquerable hope. In him our future is secure.

The words of Pope Gregory the Great have echoed throughout this week:

'The body that lay lifeless in the tomb is ours. The body that rose again on the third day is ours. The body that ascended above all the heights of heaven to the right hand of the Father's glory is ours…We too are to rise and share his glory.'

The second emblem we grasp is, of course, the cross of Christ. Yesterday we venerated a simple cross made of wood, a symbol of his suffering, and therefore of ours too. Tonight, the great cross adorned with precious stones, garnished with gold, is restored to its place behind the altar. The cross is transformed into a symbol of his victory, and ours too.

And so it should be, because the cross represents the radical victory of Christ in the wretched and ancient struggle between good and evil, a struggle in which we are caught up and, without exception, wounded and scarred. With our grasp firmly on the cross of Jesus, we live through suffering, whatever form it takes, knowing its deeper purpose. We keep our eyes fixed on the promise of our loving Creator, a promise that goes beyond all human expectation and is an invitation to enter new life.

The Gospel proclamation is unambiguous: 'Why do you look among the dead? He is not here; he is risen!' That is our lesson, carried in the candle and the cross. Do not seek answers where they cannot be found. Look to him alone who on this night opens up the royal road for us to take on our pilgrimage of life.

He is our sure foundation and hope. That is the road we take. As St Paul tells us, we strive to be not only dead to sin but alive to God, in Christ Jesus. To him be glory for ever and ever. Amen. Alleluia.

A very happy Easter to you all.

Cardinal Vincent Nichols
Archbishop of Westminster

LINK

Listen to Archbishop Welby's homily on Radio 4 here: www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m0016grb