The question with a surprising answer: who is my neighbour?
Auckland, New Zealand. Image from Unsplash.
Our national anthem begins with a remarkable vision: "God of Nations, at Thy feet, in the bonds of love we meet". It’s an invitation to people from every creed and race to find their place together, united not by sameness but by love.
That vision is not just poetry.
It describes something I see lived out every week across Auckland's churches, in our schools and in our workplaces; communities that reflect the stunning diversity of this city, where people from dozens of nations gather not because they all look the same or think the same, but because they have found something genuinely for everyone. It is a vision I am proud of, and one I believe is worth speaking up for.
Which is why I feel I need to say something this week.
Comments were made by Destiny Church leader Brian Tamaki, calling for New Zealand to be "purged of Hindus, Sikhs and Muslims," and then, in response to reports of churches being burned in India, he suggested, "why don't we burn mosques and their temples down? Tit for tat." This has caused real harm to the very communities our anthem describes.
I've spent time with Brian. I messaged him personally earlier this week about his comments. I believe he has real and legitimate concerns for the wellbeing of Christians around the world; concerns that I genuinely share.
But his comments are causing genuine hurt. I have heard this directly from people in Auckland's Sikh, Hindu, and Muslim communities, many of whom are genuinely frightened. Yes, there are valid conversations to be had about immigration and social cohesion, but these words go well beyond healthy debate.
I am also conscious that comments like these can be misconstrued by someone who might act on them, and it only takes one person for rhetoric to become tragedy.
And perhaps most troubling of all: comments like these push people away from Jesus himself; a Jesus who, as I hope this article shows, is far more surprising, far more welcoming, and far more for everyone than these words suggest.
Two thousand years ago, someone asked Jesus a question that has never stopped being relevant: "Who is my neighbour?"
The person asking expected a comfortable answer: someone who looked like them, believed like them, belonged like them.
Jesus' response was scandalous. He told a story in which the hero wasn't the religious insider, but a Samaritan, a member of a despised minority, someone viewed with suspicion and hostility by the very audience Jesus was addressing. In first-century Palestine, making a Samaritan the good guy wasn't a feel-good multicultural gesture. It was provocative. It was intentional. And that was the point.
Jesus' answer to "who is my neighbour?" was essentially: everyone. Especially the ones you'd rather not include.
At the heart of the Christian message is this: every human being has dignity and worth — not because of their ethnicity, their faith, their productivity, or their social standing, but because they are made in the image of God. That is not a peripheral idea in Christianity.
It is foundational.
It is the reason Christians have historically built hospitals, schools, and refuges for the vulnerable … not only for people who share their beliefs, but for anyone in need.
The Jesus of the New Testament did not build his movement through coercion or threat. He invited. He welcomed. He sat with people that polite society had written off. The religious outsider, the ethnic minority, the person everyone else had decided wasn't worth their time. He said the two greatest commandments were to love God and to love your neighbour. Not some neighbours. All of them.
That is the Jesus I have given my life to following.
Part of what concerns me this week goes beyond the specific comments. Some have called for New Zealand to be formally declared a Christian nation. I understand the longing behind that — a desire for faith to be honoured rather than sidelined in public life. But history suggests that entangling faith and state power can often hurt more than it helps. Legislated faith produces compliance, not conviction. It has never produced the kind of society Jesus actually described. Jesus never asked the state to enforce his message. He lived it, taught it, and invited others into it, freely. That invitation, to anyone, regardless of background or belief, is still open.
Auckland is one of the most ethnically diverse cities in the world. Our churches reflect that. On any given Sunday, you will find people from every nation and every kind of background, gathered not because they all look the same or think the same, but because they have discovered that Jesus is genuinely for everyone.
If you are Sikh, Muslim, Hindu, or of no faith at all, and you have been hurt or alarmed by what you've heard this week — I want you to know: you are absolutely welcome in our city and in our churches. As a neighbour. As someone made in the image of God, with full dignity and worth.
New Zealand doesn't need an angrier church. It needs a braver one … brave enough to love across every line that divides us. That is the way of Jesus, and it is the New Zealand our anthem has always imagined.
Jonathan Dove
Executive Chair, Auckland Church Network