Faith in Public Action: From Pulpit to Parliament

In 2013, during my mission experiment, I witnessed a true incident. In a small and remote village in the East Godavari district of Andhra Pradesh, a local panchayat election unfolded as a vivid example of how politics, when guided by selfish motives and social divisions, can wound the moral and spiritual fabric of a community. Two Dalit candidates, both distant relatives and good friends, namely Santhosh and Ramu, decided to contest the village elections.

Their initial attitude of mutual respect and friendship inspired hope. They began their campaigns by greeting one another warmly, wishing each other good luck, and setting a noble example of political dialogue rooted in dignity and goodwill.

For the villagers, this was something new and refreshing. Santosh and Ramu were from the same background, guided not by hatred but by a shared vision of service. Their early conduct reflected what Pope Francis calls in Fratelli Tutti “a better kind of politics,” one that seeks the common good and values fraternity over rivalry. It seemed, at first, that this election could become a model of dialogue and moral integrity in public life.

However, as the campaign progressed, the competitive spirit began to overpower the spirit of friendship. Words became harsher, emotions grew stronger, and small misunderstandings slowly turned into divisions. Yet, the real tragedy was not the rivalry between the two Dalit candidates but the subtle interference of upper-caste (Kapu) leaders, who exploited the situation for their own gain.

On the eve of the election, they gathered in secret and decided to support one of the candidates, Ramu, the quieter, less confrontational one, simply to silence the more prophetic and outspoken candidate who wanted to challenge the status quo and bring transformation to the village.

What had begun as a hopeful expression of democratic freedom and friendship quickly turned into a story of power politics and manipulation. The upper-caste community, though small in number, used its influence to divide the Dalit community and weaken their collective strength.

The result was devastating; the village split into two hostile groups; friendships broke; suspicion and resentment grew; and the moral vision of unity and justice disappeared within a single night. When the results were declared, the quieter candidate, Ramu, won. Yet, the real victory belonged not to him or his community, but to the forces of division and moral compromise.

The prophetic candidate Santosh, who stood for justice and reform, lost the election, but perhaps, in the eyes of God, he remained the true winner, for he stood for truth, courage, and human dignity.

This true incident in Godavari is not just a local political event. It reflects a deeper spiritual crisis that affects society and even the Church today, the loss of Gospel-centered values in public life. Politics, when separated from morality and divine guidance, becomes a tool of domination rather than service, a space of greed rather than grace.

In Scripture, we find that God’s vision of leadership is always rooted in justice, compassion, and service. The prophets of the Old Testament, like Amos, Isaiah, and Micah, reminded rulers that God despises injustice, corruption, and exploitation of the poor.

Jesus Himself, the greatest teacher and servant-leader, modeled a leadership based on humility, dialogue, and love for the marginalized. He never sought power or prestige but chose the path of service and sacrifice. His words, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (Mark 9:35), challenge every Christian leader to see politics as a vocation of service, not a pursuit of self-interest.

Pope Francis, in Fratelli Tutti, describes politics as “a form of charity when it seeks the common good.” True politics, he says, is not about popularity or control, but about love expressed through social commitment. Unfortunately, as seen in the Godavari incident, politics often becomes detached from this spiritual and ethical foundation.

When we allow politics to divide families, destroy relationships, and suppress justice, we distance ourselves from God’s vision of the human community.

The incident described earlier invites us to reflect: What happens when politics forgets God? It loses its moral compass. When power replaces principles, when ambition overshadows compassion, when caste or class defines our choices, we betray the Gospel’s call to fraternity and equality.

Jesus’ warning, “You cannot serve two masters” (Matthew 6:24), reminds us that we cannot serve both God and political power, both truth and manipulation. The moment politics drives us away from truth, dignity, and the common good, it becomes idolatry a false god that demands loyalty at the cost of conscience.

The need of our time is to restore politics as a noble mission guided by moral vision. A better kind of politics begins not with policies alone, but with hearts transformed by compassion and integrity. It calls us to build bridges across divisions, to dialogue with humility, and to uphold the dignity of every human person, especially the poor and marginalized.

For Christians, this means recognizing that faith and politics cannot be separated. Our commitment to justice, peace, and service must be rooted in our relationship with God. When our political engagement is guided by prayer, discernment, and Gospel values, it becomes an act of faith and love.

Politics, then, is no longer a struggle for power but a service of hope a way of making God’s kingdom of justice and peace visible on earth.

The incident in Godavari stands as both a warning and an invitation. It warns us of how easily dignity, friendship, and justice can be corrupted by the thirst for power. But it also invites us to imagine and practice a better kind of politics, one where dialogue replaces division, dignity triumphs over discrimination, and the common good outweighs personal gain.

When politics becomes an expression of faith in action, rooted in love, humility, and service, it no longer divides; it heals. In such politics, God is not forgotten but glorified, and humanity moves one step closer to the Kingdom of God, where justice and peace embrace each other (Psalm 85:10).