Great theology is not something I expect out of our politicians. Or at least not in the manner of a Western theologian. Theology, in the Protestant West, where Christianity is more about the mental exercise than about practical application. Unfortunately there are many great moral thinkers who are not good people. For example, John Howard Yoder, once the go-to Anabaptist pacifism explainer later disgraced by the many credible allegations of sexual abuse. Our theology is what we practice, not what we preach.
Needless to say, we won’t be reviewing “The Politics of Jesus” any time soon (although it may be fun at some point) and what we will do instead is parse a curious statement that was made by Vice-president JD Vance:
There is a Christian concept that you love your family and then you love your neighbour, and then you love your community, and then you love your fellow citizens, and then after that, prioritise the rest of the world.
My first impression is mixed. Vance should probably stick to politics rather than delving into theology. I’m not sure he has a perfect understanding of what “neighbor” actually means in the Gospel sense. But his point that love starts local has merit. It is also important to note that the context of this is a moment of history where the second term of Trump administration, his America-first doctrine, and the dismantling of USAID and other arms of US imperialism.
Rather than disagree or agree with Vance, it is my intention to go through his statement line by line and, after that determine if he’s directionally right even if a bit wrong about semantic details. Where does Christianity (or the Gospel) teach us to love first?
“There is a Christian concept that you love your family…”
Objection, your honor! Jesus specifically taught us to hate our family (Luke 14:26) and, therefore, this JD Vance guy is just another Christian nationalist. Crucify him, crucify him! Oh, wait, you mean Jesus, on the cross no less, was assigning care for his mother (John 19:25-29) and had bashed the religious elites who neglected their own parents (Mark 7:11-12) claiming that their money was being set aside for God?
If there is any uncertainty left, the Epistle makes clear:
Anyone who does not provide for their relatives, and especially for their own household, has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever. (1 Timothy 5:8 NIV)
Care for our families is a first and foremost priority and should be. What Vance did not make clear is what my high school coaches summarized better, in regards to priorities as, “Faith, family and then football.” Jesus, in saying to “hate” our family was employing a bit of hyperbole, his point was that we first follow him and after that put everything else in our lives. It is not one or the other, but it is getting the correct order.
“…and then you love your neighbour…”
This probably is the weakest part, in terms of rhetoric, that the Vice-president said and it is because of how Jesus so radically had reframed the Jewish discussion of his day and broadened the term “neighbor” to pretty much mean anyone we cross paths with. I am talking about his story which involved a good Samaritan and an immediate need.
When asked by a religious law expert, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus, sensing the man was trying to justify himself (or his lack of compassion for those outside the Jewish tradition) changes the question. Instead of asking who to love, Jesus reframed to make it about how to love. The punch of using a Samaritan as the good guy of the account would be similar to telling a story, in Israel today, about a good Palestinian or going to the DNC and using an example of a good MAGA hat wearing redneck.
Vance appears to be using “neighbor” in the more conventional sense. He’s not talking about the stranger, in need of help, that we meet along the road. Nor how to be a good neighbor, as Jesus did in response to a man trying to justify his own narrow exclusionary take on who is a neighbor, which is actually reflective of the Jewish law:
“‘Do not hate a fellow Israelite in your heart. Rebuke your neighbor frankly so you will not share in their guilt. “ ‘Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against anyone among your people, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the Lord. (Leviticus 19:17-18 NIV)
Neighbor is clearly qualified, by context, as a “fellow Israelite” or “your people” and not the broader use. Nevertheless, what Jesus does is turn the question around on the one asking for sake of an exemption. The true message is that we correct our own heart and fix our attitude towards those we hold in low regard. Americans should learn to love their neighbors no matter who they’ve voted for last election. Love starts local, it isn’t about ethnicity, race or politics, and is all about what we personally are doing for those whom we meet along the way.
“…and then you love your community…”
Community, in the Biblical sense, would be the community of believers. A Christian is supposed to be devoted to fellowship (Acts 2:42, 1 John 1:7) carry each other’s burdens (Gal 6:2), maintain unity (Eph 4:3) and love one another so that the world knows that you follow after Christ (John 13:5), which is local and also not ahead of obligation to our own families. Charity is a provision for both Godly widows and orphans. It doesn’t make mention of free condoms for foreigners nor giving to those outside the Church:
Give proper recognition to those widows who are really in need. But if a widow has children or grandchildren, these should learn first of all to put their religion into practice by caring for their own family and so repaying their parents and grandparents, for this is pleasing to God.
[…]
No widow may be put on the list of widows unless she is over sixty, has been faithful to her husband, and is well known for her good deeds, such as bringing up children, showing hospitality, washing the feet of the Lord’s people, helping those in trouble and devoting herself to all kinds of good deeds. (1 Timothy 5:3-4;9-10 NIV)
As we see above, Christian community aid is conditional. No, this does not mean we cannot extend compassion to the broader community beyond the Church—only that it is an obligation within the body of believers first—starts with our brothers and sisters in Christ (James 2:15-16) before it goes out to the community beyond. As St Paul told the church in Galatia, we should “do good for all people,” but “especially to those who belong to the family of believers.” (Gal 6:10)
So, God, family, church community, and then…
“…and then you love your fellow citizens…”
This is probably the concept that is most difficult to find. On one hand the Church did send missionaries from Judea throughout the Roman Empire. But, probably drawing on my Anabaptist roots (where there is this tendency to over-literalize everything but the body and blood of Christ), we are told we’re “citizens of heaven” and so loving citizens is not necessarily about the country, state or nation. However, we are told to submit to our human authorities and institutions:
Submit yourselves for the Lord’s sake to every human authority: whether to the emperor, as the supreme authority, or to governors, who are sent by him to punish those who do wrong and to commend those who do right. For it is God’s will that by doing good you should silence the ignorant talk of foolish people. Live as free people, but do not use your freedom as a cover-up for evil; live as God’s slaves. Show proper respect to everyone, love the family of believers, fear God, honor the emperor. (1 Peter 2:13-17 NIV)
Where many from my religious background go wrong is by putting worldly government and citizenship at odds with the heavenly kingdom. This is wrong. No early Christian renounced their citizenship. St Paul did not and there are many places where they tell us to respect even secular government as being ordained by God. A Christian should not opposed to the punishment of evil (Rom 13:17) and should be a model citizen.
So it does make sense that this expanding bubble of love, from God to family to church to community would continue to growing to also include our fellow citizens. No, nation should never come before obedience to our moral conscience. But it is important that we respect institutions and the people they represent. It is appropriate to show a little respect to the flag, to remember those who died to fighting for an ideal, and to love the people of our own nation—like Jesus who spent his entire ministry amongst his own people that he loved first and foremost.
“…and then after that, prioritise the rest of the world.”
So now we’ve come to the final part of the expanding arc Vance described. Once we have fulfilled our commitment to our other priorities, then we should go beyond these borders to save the world.
The Great Commission is probably better described as the great omission the way it is used by those who fail to read carefully and miss the “wait, then” at heart of this—they rush forward, so full of answers, full of themselves and feelings of being superior to their peers. They can be Evangelicals or they can be young Marxists, but they have been indoctrinated and do not realize what they’ve missed while running out to prove their phony virtue has no bounds.
On one occasion, while he was eating with them, he gave them this command: “Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about.
[…]
But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:4-8 NIV)
First in Jerusalem, their own city or people, then to Judea their state and neighbors—then on to Samaria, a region inhabitated by their enemies and then, finally they were to go to the whole world. That order is not a mistake. And those who ignore it are going on their own power, their own authority, and often contribute to hell more than they ever do salvation. Grandiose visions are so nice, such a comfort for the delusional, we want to believe we are better for our having more stamps on our passports and these global ambitions.
So, maybe Vance didn’t articulate it well or use terms in the same exact manner of as a doctor of theology, but lets not nitpick him or play semantic games, his concept of our help starting local (the need along our path or a Lazarus lying literally at our front gate), before going out from there, has very solid basis in Biblical texts. That is the pattern we see in the disciples Jesus taught. They didn’t travel the world trying to find greater needs—they started with their own people and worked out from there.
Jesus, the ultimate Christian example, never went beyond Judea, Samaria and Galilee.
Telescopic Philanthropy and Liberal Elites
Charles Dickens describes a phenomenon of globally-minded do-gooders who missed the needs right in front of their noses. This is a way the modern elites try to distinguish themselves from common people. And the same thing that religious elites did and was rebuked very severely by Jesus (Matt 23) as hypocrisy. Running an NGO certainly gets more attention than helping your neighbor across the street, but the latter better fits with a “do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing” (Matt 6:3) ethic of the Gospel. Telescopic philanthropy is the opposite of what a Christian does.
Rory Stewart, attacking Vance’s perspective as being tribal pagan, decrying a million in additional funding being cut off from his wife’s NGO is a prime example of disconnect between the globalist elites and those forced to support their efforts. They’re good people, in their own minds, for using piles of our tax dollars to teach modern art to Afghani villagers. To them Vance is a rube. But I seriously doubt their massive virtue-signals are of much or any practical long-term value. Charity does not take from one to give to another. It truly makes no sense that British socialites get a dime of our money for their pet projects. It makes even less sense that any professing Christians would defend USAID.

JD Vance’s commentary, for all its semantic stumbles, offers a grounded counterpoint to this telescopic philanthropy. His emphasis on starting with family, neighbors, and citizens before tackling the world’s woes challenges the elite obsession with grand, distant causes that often serve more as status symbols than solutions. While the globalist set may scoff at his provincial framing, they’d do well to heed the Gospel’s call to tend first to the needs at hand—quietly, humbly, and without fanfare. Vance may not be a theologian, but his instinct to root love in the local cuts through the hypocrisy of those who’d rather save the world on someone else’s dime than lift a finger for the suffering next door. In a culture dazzled by far-off heroics, his words remind us that genuine charity begins where our feet are planted.
