Dwain Northey (Gen X)

One of the strangest developments in modern American politics is watching people who proudly proclaim themselves to be followers of Christ dismiss Christ’s own words as though they were the ramblings of some naïve college freshman with an overpriced sociology degree.

Imagine introducing some of the teachings of Jesus today without mentioning who said them.

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”

The response might be, “That’s loser talk. Winners don’t inherit anything—they take it.”

“Love your enemies.”

“What kind of weak, woke nonsense is that?”

“Turn the other cheek.”

“Absolutely not. Hit them harder.”

“Blessed are the peacemakers.”

“Sounds soft.”

“Judge not, that ye be not judged.”

“So we’re just supposed to let people do whatever they want? Typical woke garbage.”

“Whatever you did for the least of these, you did for me.”

“That’s socialism.”

“Sell what you have and give to the poor.”

“Sounds like wealth redistribution.”

And then comes perhaps the most uncomfortable verse of all:

“It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”

Today that statement would probably be met with a thousand YouTube videos explaining why Jesus didn’t really mean what He plainly said. There would be podcasts, influencers, and television preachers twisting themselves into theological pretzels to explain that immense wealth is actually proof of God’s favor, despite Christ repeatedly warning about the spiritual dangers that accompany riches.

The irony is almost too thick to ignore.

If someone walked into many churches today quoting the Sermon on the Mount without identifying the speaker, there’s a fair chance they’d be accused of spreading liberal propaganda before anyone realized they were quoting the New Testament.

Somewhere along the way, parts of American Christianity seem to have undergone a remarkable transformation. Instead of asking, “What did Jesus teach?” the question has become, “Can we reinterpret what Jesus taught so it aligns with our politics?”

The Gospel has become less about challenging ourselves and more about confirming our existing beliefs.

Jesus spent His ministry among fishermen, tax collectors, lepers, widows, prostitutes, foreigners, and the poor. He consistently warned against pride, greed, and hypocrisy. He criticized religious leaders more often than sinners. He overturned the tables of those exploiting faith for profit. He preached forgiveness over vengeance, humility over arrogance, mercy over condemnation.

If someone described that résumé today without attaching Jesus’ name to it, many of the loudest voices claiming to defend Christianity might dismiss Him as another “woke loser” who didn’t understand how the real world works.

That’s the uncomfortable question.

Have some Christians become followers of Christ—or followers of a political ideology that simply borrows Christian vocabulary?

Christianity has always been demanding. Jesus never promised that following Him would be easy. In fact, He promised exactly the opposite. He challenged the powerful, comforted the powerless, and repeatedly instructed His followers to care for the hungry, the stranger, the sick, and the imprisoned.

Those teachings weren’t popular in first-century Judea.

They aren’t particularly popular in twenty-first-century America either.

Perhaps that’s because the Gospel was never intended to make us comfortable. It was intended to make us better.

The real measure of faith isn’t how loudly someone says they’re Christian. It’s how willing they are to wrestle with the difficult teachings of Christ—even when those teachings challenge their politics, their prejudices, or their personal ambitions.

If the words written in red are dismissed as weak, “woke,” or the language of losers, then perhaps the problem isn’t with the words.

Perhaps we’ve simply become more devoted to our politics than to the One who spoke them.