I have a couple of things to admit to you, dear reader. The first is that I am struggling to be hopeful, because so many who say they are followers of Christ are promoting hate.

In late January, my oldest son came home from school and said, “Mom, did you know there are people who want to send other people away? People who are not from here. They want to send them out of the United States.”

“Yes, I did know that,” I said. “That is true.”

He looked at me, with his coat and backpack still on, because this was urgent.

“Will they send dad away?”

I understood his fear. I have been nervous that even though my partner had the opportunity to come here legally — and has been here for almost 15 years, and when you read this will have participated in his naturalization ceremony — somehow, because he was not born here, he could be targeted.

“It is true some people would like to send people like Daddy away. But it is unlikely that will happen.”

With a sigh of relief, he dropped his backpack on the floor. Now we could talk about snacks and basketball practice.

I share this with you because the anxiety my family feels is minuscule compared with that of others who have lived with this fear for years and those who recently have had their safety pulled out from under them.

On the day after the presidential inauguration, Jan. 21, when the Rt. Rev. Mariann Budde encouraged the need for mercy in the United States (see also our editorial on page 7 and Jonny Rashid’s column on page 42), she was met with a critique stating that what she preached was “the sin of empathy.”

Now, if that sounds ridiculous to you, then good. While this is a baffling term to many of us, it is not entirely new. It has been around for quite some time, bolstering the Christian nationalist movement. It’s a foundational piece of that theology. It rationalizes persecution in the name of those beliefs. (I refuse to say those beliefs are Christian, because they are so un-Christlike.)

This issue’s theme is “Welcoming the Stranger.” The feature articles remind us that strangers are from near and far and that Christ asks us to make room for each of them.

In light of the current trend of bashing anything that resembles mercy, these stories feel especially important now.

So, this is my second admission: Call me a sinner, because I won’t let go of empathy. I hope you won’t either.