For decades, political conservatives have championed fiscal responsibility, rightly calling for reductions in wasteful government spending. I count myself among them.
Every administration I can recall has spoken about it, but none has done anything about it. The Department of Government Efficiency is tackling it head-on, and I commend this.
Yet, I am deeply troubled by the indiscriminate cuts to U.S. emergency aid and relief programs — particularly those impacting the world’s most vulnerable populations.
While the current administration has promised “waivers” and exceptions, there is no mechanism in place to either dispense or receive this aid, as USAID has been closed without any alternative deliverance methodology, leaving millions of lives hanging in the balance.
Faith-based groups have long acted as delivery system for USAID for providing critical food, medicine and shelter, but with the disabling of USAID’s emergency relief programs, even these faith-driven groups cannot keep up. Clinics are closing, essential staff are being let go, and children are dying—right now, as we speak. The human toll of these sweeping cuts will be staggering, yet the silence from faith-based leaders and conservative policymakers is deafening.
Alexander Solzhenitsyn once said that small disasters close to home or large disasters far away result in “disasters of manageable proportion.” Well, huge humanitarian tragedies are occurring in Sudan, Eastern Congo, Northern Ethiopia, Myanmar and many other places. They are below the radar of the nightly news, and most Americans have not even read about them. But the U.S. government knows, and I hope, the church does too.
Many folks critical of the faith community and against every aspect of this administration’s efforts to cut government spending will no doubt cry out “hypocrisy.” But you don’t know what you don’t know.
Well now you do.
History reminds us that when governments fail, the community of faith must step in. During the height of the AIDS crisis in Africa, it was the faith-based organizations and churches — not governments — that led the charge in providing care and treatment. As rock star Bono, a man who once dismissed Christians as self-righteous, later acknowledged, they became the only collective voice speaking out and acting in response to suffering.
Where is that voice now?
People of faith must ask: What are we doing? Where is the moral outrage from those from all religions who claim to champion the principles of Jesus?
Many of us pushing for these cuts identify as people of faith yet seem unaware that, in the process, the poorest of the poor are being cast aside. This is not a political issue; it is a gospel issue. Jesus’ call to serve “the least of these” is not contingent on national borders, nor is it subject to budgetary convenience.
It is time for pastors, rabbis and faith-based coalitions and the many believers in MAGA to rise and demand action. At the very least, they must bring awareness to this unfolding crisis.
This wider church must use its platforms to inform and mobilize the faithful. The community of faith must call on their elected officials — especially conservatives in Congress — to push for the immediate restoration of critical emergency aid.
The question is not whether wasteful spending should be cut. It should be. But should we balance the budget on the backs of starving children and dying mothers? Should fiscal conservatism come at the cost of basic human compassion?
These cuts are not just a policy failure; they are a moral failure. And if the faith community remains silent, it will share in the responsibility for the suffering that follows. If we truly believe that faith without works is dead, then now is the time to act. To pray, yes — but also to speak, to advocate and to refuse to let political convenience outweigh spiritual mandates.
The world’s poorest are watching. More importantly, so is God.
Ward Brehm is a Minnesota-based businessman who is chairman of the United States African Development Foundation, which is suing DOGE over proposed cuts.
