Both my parents, sadly no longer with us, were born-again Christians and I will always be grateful for the atmosphere in our home which emphasised the difference between right and wrong. My father, as a strict Baptist, took the view that his religion, or I prefer to say his faith, meant he didn’t get involved in politics.

He judged an issue on its merits, based on his beliefs.

It’s a pity that principle didn’t apply to others in Northern Ireland; this week again we’ve seen how toxically divisive religion in politics can be with DUP Minister, Edwin Poots somehow getting himself embroiled in a twist which conflated religion, politics and the Coronavirus in a nonsensical mix.

The ridiculousness of it was best summed up in an ironic quote by comedian Tim McGarry: “An acquaintance of mine has tested positive for Covid. He’s currently waiting to hear from Edwin Poots if it’s Catholic Covid or Protestant Covid.”

And yet such is the way that the Poots nonsense is taken seriously that the Chief Medical Officer feels the need to assure us that there is no link between a person’s religion or politics and Coronavirus. I keep waiting for a Jeremy Beadle to appear.

Should religion have absolutely no role in politics, though? It’s a topic, I feel, that isn’t so simple and deserves some wider consideration.

I’ve referred to my growing up in a Christian home, and I recall my father listening to sermons from the American evangelist, Billy Graham who’s biographer described him as “one of the most influential Christian leaders of the 20th century” for his preaching worldwide.

The appeal for my father for this fellow-Baptist was Graham’s simple invitation to millions in charismatic and passionate sermons to “accept Jesus Christ as their personal Saviour.”

In a sense, Graham practiced what he preached. He developed amicable ties with American Catholic church figures and he did enter the wider political debate in his own country by challenging the segregation of black and white in the 1950s, once warning his white brethren: “We have been proud and thought we were better than any other race, any other people. Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to stumble into hell because of our pride.”

Billy Graham fought for integration and invited Martin Luther King to share a platform with him when it was far from popular to do so.

How ironic, then, and desperately sad I think to see that his son, Franklin Graham has become a divisive and controversial figure, even described as “a bigot.”

Although also a preacher, Franklin Graham’s involvement in politics is rather different than his father’s. He particularly came under criticism for his comments in support of the invasion of Iraq in 2003, and more recently has campaigned in favour of conversion therapy for gay people. Franklin Graham has been described as “the most vociferous evangelical ally” of Donald Trump and believes that God played a role in getting Trump elected.

In one family, in microcosm, the Grahams show the difference in a Christian Pastor being a benign influence for good or an instrument for bitterness and division.

I find it quite disturbing that evangelicals in America can use their Christianity as a political weapon and so strongly and unequivocally support Trump, a man who’s background involves relationships with porn stars, abusive misogyny, homophobia and aggressive racism including support of white supremacists.

I often think that just because a strand, and I stress just a strand, of American evangelicals talk about the need to be saved and, for example oppose abortion, some people accept them as genuine and are oblivious to all their other excesses of division and hatred, which certainly go against the loving nature of the God I believe in.

Christianity, indeed many organized religions, have a lot to answer for when they enter the realms of politics, with centuries of war; and in wider society the man-made institutions of “the Church” put people in positions of power and influence who then abuse that power. I should say that many, many fine people serve the Church and serve their God in being a force of good in helping the vulnerable in society.

A few weeks ago I posted on Facebook my horror at the plight of a Sudanese boy who was killed in the English Channel while trying to enter Britain to escape a life of hell in war and poverty. One woman responded: “That’s life if you try to enter a country illegally.” Wow! Aside from the political arguments, I was disturbed by the complete lack of sympathy for the distressing death of a child; and this particular woman sometimes posts Bible verses.

And this lack of sympathy goes right to the top in British politics, with Home Secretary Priti Patel blaming criminal gangs for the child’s death.

Britain still, I think, regards itself as a Christian society. But in addition to a serious lack of compassion for vulnerable people from other lands, the country’s system fails to show empathy to the less well-off, to prisoners, indeed to all people of difference.

I find it’s not easy these days being a Christian, and much of the problem is the example of Christian people.

Should religion and politics mix? I think people of faith have a role to play in politics, and if they enter the political realm, it is impossible to ask them to become somebody different, using a cliché “to leave their faith outside the door.” They must not, surely, use it to force it on others in a discriminatory and partisan way.

It is part and parcel of them and they should use it in a positive way.

For far too long in Ireland, the very fact that we practice our faith in different denominations has allowed society to divide into different political camps. I really don’t know what planet the Edwin Poots’s crazy aberration suggesting that Catholics in Northern Ireland were more responsible for the spread of Cornovirus came from.

It will have political implications, whether for Arlene Foster’s leadership, for the DUP internally or for relationships between parties. At a time when Unionists are under pressure to be progressive and show that Northern Ireland can be an entity that welcomes all faiths and none, it is not a good look. Worryingly, it is a sign that the days of mixing religion and politics are far from over.

In addition to having a Baptist father, my mother was a Methodist and I always recall the John Wesley quote: “Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.” That should be the outworking of our faith.

Aside from all the theological dogma, my Christian faith embraces a God of forgiveness, love, peace and compassion.

Ephesians tells us: “Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.”

Those are words which, if people of faith applied them to politics, would make our world a better place.