Earlier this month, before Senate Republicans jammed through President Trump’s disastrous rescissions package that cuts $9 billion from programs like PBS, NPR, and foreign aid, I told a story on the Senate floor.
I want to share it with you. It’s not a short story, but I hope you’ll read it because I think this is really important to reflect on:
The church where my wife Anne and I were married more than 40 years ago, where all three of our children were baptized, and where we attended mass this past Sunday is called Saint Elizabeth’s of Hungary.
It’s a small, humble Catholic parish in the north side of Richmond, Virginia that was founded more than a hundred years ago by Italian and German immigrants who wanted a place where they could feel loved, safe, and welcomed as they worshiped. As Catholic refugees in the aftermath of World War I, they felt looked down upon because of where they’d come from and the accents they spoke with.
They named the church after Saint Elizabeth, a Hungarian princess from the thirteenth century who went against the wishes of her husband to feed the poor. Eventually, she gave up her wealth and devoted the rest of her life to caring for the sick and poor.
The founders of my church a hundred years ago knew that was what was needed in the world — a place of worship for people who believed in serving those in need.
Fast forward to about 15 years ago, when a Congolese family was resettled from a refugee camp into my church by a Catholic organization offering refugee resettlement services. They liked the church — a place where they also felt loved, safe, and welcomed — and over time, other Congolese refugee families started to come, too.
Today, my church has a sizable Congolese refugee population — and while at first glance, our congregation looks different from a hundred years ago, in many ways, it is just the same.
So why did I tell this story? Let’s go back to Trump’s rescissions bill.
The bill rescinded funding for essential programs millions of people rely on – including refugee resettlement programs. These programs follow the law and help those who are accessing legal refugee programs find safety, integrate into our society, and live with dignity in America. This is good work that is at the core of who we are as Americans.
Trump’s package wiped out funding for virtually all of these organizations, which means staff layoffs and program closures — some of which have been operating for decades or more than a century.
These cuts will have a profound impact on millions of people here in the U.S. and across the globe.
Look, I can’t say that I’m surprised Trump would propose such massive cuts that disproportionately impact the most vulnerable among us. After all, the language, rhetoric, and behavior that he’s exhibited toward even legal immigrants and refugees have paved the way for this moment.
I’m not even particularly surprised that many of my colleagues in the House and the Senate would accept these cuts without much protest, in light of their recent votes to gut Medicaid and nutritional assistance programs.
But what I am surprised by is the fact that so many of those who voted in favor of these cuts go to churches just like me, and hear sermons just like I do on bedrock beliefs like this one:
Matthew 25:35 — I was a stranger and you welcomed me in. I was sick and you cared for me. I was hungry and you fed me.
The idea of being a good neighbor transcends religions.
Caring for your neighbor is a simple idea embraced by every culture and belief system, and yet far too many of our elected officials have abandoned these core, human beliefs in favor of gaining power or even simply avoiding censure from Trump.
I’m going to be honest: I don’t know what the future holds for these resettlement programs, or for the people who rely on them. What I do know is that I’m more committed than ever to standing up for the vulnerable and fighting against injustice — both here in the Senate and out in the community.
I hope you’ll join me in looking for opportunities to get involved — to be a good neighbor — and to do whatever you can, whenever you can for those who need it most.
Now more than ever before, we must not grow jaded or disconnected from our core values, whether they come from our religion, our patriotism, our families, or anywhere else.
Thanks for reading,
Tim
