In the diocese of Liverpool we see the struggle for a just society as a direct outworking of our faith in Jesus Christ – who fed the hungry and cared for the poor. That’s why we say we’re asking God for a bigger church so we can make a bigger difference.

For me, then, the health of a just society is measured by the way it treats the poorest, those on the edge of things. That’s why I support the mayor of Liverpool, his colleagues and 10 other councils across the country who are refusing to share sensitive personal data on non-UK rough sleepers with the Home Office.

For displaced people on the street, the language of the hostile environment has had a baleful and chilling effect

It’s hard to imagine anyone more on the edge than a displaced person who lives on the streets – who has no country of their own and no roof over their head. People in this situation are extraordinarily vulnerable, and if it’s your job to help them then you must build trust first of all.

But trust is hard to build and easy to break, especially if you’re a displaced and undocumented person in the UK today.

In 2012 the then home secretary, Theresa May, said of her approach to undocumented people: “The aim is to create, here in Britain, a really hostile environment for illegal immigrants.” The following year she said: “We can deport first and hear appeals later.”

Pugnacious language like this is popular with some, which is why certain politicians have used it repeatedly for years. But words have consequences. For displaced people on the street, the language of the hostile environment has had a baleful and chilling effect. Its impact has been to erode trust, and without trust any subsequent national initiative can then be seen as a potential trick or trap.

This is the context within which the Home Office has introduced its Rough Sleeping Support Service (RSSS). Doubtless this has been done with the best intentions on the part of the civil service. And yet I agree with the 11 councils who are refusing to cooperate with the RSSS by sharing data. I believe that no undocumented person will accept help from homelessness outreach workers if by doing so their details will be shared with officials who want to deport them. This is not a negligible risk. In the Home Office’s own words: “The service is not an enforcement approach, but action may be considered on a case-by-case basis.”

I am not a member of any political party. Nor as a Christian bishop do I seek to oppose the policies of any government of the day as a matter of routine. But I have a vision for this country – one shared by many others – that has no room for the hostile environment. This is rooted in my faith as a Christian, and in the long traditions of our country as a place of welcome and care for the displaced, traditions enshrined in the NHS, of care for all, of the pursuit of lawful justice certainly. First and foremost, it has its basis in a community whose priority is to keep people alive and to help them to flourish with dignity.

That’s why I agree with Liverpool’s mayor, Joe Anderson, and his colleagues across the country. That’s why I believe in offering care to the poorest without strings, as churches and many others across the nation do day-by-day without complaint and without reward.

Words have consequences. In an increasingly fractious west, where public discourse is coarsening and political appeals to “the base” are increasingly crude, we need to stand up for a better way. In particular, here and now, we all – people of faith and of no faith alike – need to resist any talk of a hostile environment if that talk puts the vulnerable at risk.

As the American Jesuit and peace protester Daniel Berrigan used to say: we need to know where we stand – and stand there. We need to stand up for a better way. We need, in short, to stand up for love.

• Paul Bayes is Anglican bishop of Liverpool