The media seems to think only abortion and gay marriage are

Hear, O seekers of truth, the voice of Jim Wallis, a prophet of our age, who declared with clarity and indignation: “The media seems to think only abortion and gay marriage are religious issues. Poverty is a moral issue, it's a faith issue, it's a religious issue.” These words burn like fire against the narrowness of public debate, for they remind us that the heart of faith is not only about rules of the body or questions of marriage, but about the cries of the poor, the hungry, and the forgotten. Wallis calls us back to the ancient truth: that religion without justice for the poor is but an empty shell.

The meaning of his words is profound. In his time, as in ours, religion was too often confined to a handful of controversies—abortion, gay marriage—as if the divine concern for humanity extended no further. Wallis dares to widen the vision. He declares that poverty itself is a sacred concern, a matter of faith, for every scripture, every tradition, cries out on behalf of the oppressed. What good is a faith that debates endlessly about morality while ignoring the starving child, the homeless wanderer, the laborer paid in injustice? His words strike like a hammer upon the cold heart of complacency.

The origin of this teaching lies deep in the sacred texts and stories of old. The prophets of Israel thundered, “Woe to those who trample the heads of the poor into the dust!” Jesus himself declared, “Whatever you do for the least of these, you do for me.” The Qur’an calls believers to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to protect the orphan. And yet, in modern times, such teachings are drowned by debates narrowed to issues of private morality. Wallis speaks to restore balance, to remind the faithful that justice for the poor is not a side concern but the very heart of religion.

Consider the life of Dorothy Day, founder of the Catholic Worker Movement in America. She lived not as one obsessed with narrow disputes, but as one consumed with love for the poor. She opened houses of hospitality, fed the hungry, clothed the naked, and challenged the powers of wealth and war. For her, poverty was not only a political issue but a religious issue, a measure of the soul of a nation. In her life we see Wallis’s words embodied: faith is not complete unless it bends to the cries of the oppressed.

The power of Wallis’s declaration also lies in its rebuke of media and public discourse. By narrowing religion to a few divisive debates, the world has distorted the face of faith, turning it into a tool of conflict rather than compassion. The true vision of faith is broader, nobler, more heroic: it seeks not only to rule over personal choices but to transform society so that all may flourish. To speak of equality without addressing hunger is hypocrisy; to speak of morality without addressing injustice is blindness.

The lesson, O children of tomorrow, is clear: broaden your understanding of what it means to live by faith. Do not let your compassion be boxed into narrow debates while the poor suffer in silence. Recognize that poverty, homelessness, hunger, and injustice are not merely social or political issues, but sacred responsibilities. To walk in faith is to feed, to clothe, to lift up, to give voice. To neglect these duties is to betray the very heart of religion itself.

So live with courage. When the world tells you that faith is about private disputes, lift your voice and remind them: it is also about justice. When the powerful distract with arguments that divide, remind them of the children in hunger, the families without shelter, the laborers in chains of poverty. Let your faith not be a weapon of condemnation, but a wellspring of compassion. For only then will your religion be alive, only then will your society be just, and only then will you honor the eternal command: to love your neighbor as yourself.