Republished with permission from John Pavlovitz
As a longtime Christian and former pastor, one of the most common questions I’m asked, is one I often ask myself: “Why are Conservative Christians so hateful?”
The first thing I try to help them understand (and, to remember myself) is that it wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Despite the ways those who practice it here in America might frequently declare otherwise with their lives, Christianity (embodied in the life and teachings of Jesus) was supposed to beautiful, joy-filling, and life-giving; a movement of compassion and mercy and forgiveness and sacrificial love.
It was supposed to be the most brilliant of lights in the pitch-black spaces where humanity often finds itself.
It was supposed to drive people to the places of deepest despair and greatest need, fully burdened to make their home there until the low are raised up, the hurting healed, and the captives freed.
It was also supposed to make people fearless.
The most-repeated words from the mouth of God throughout both the Old and New Testaments to the faithful, is to not fear. At the very center of our religion and its big story, is a steadfast security that rests in the loving presence of the Eternal; one that trusts in protection in or deliverance from all that which threatens us from both within and without.
The default mindset of a follower of Jesus, is supposed to be one of unquenchable, confident optimism even in seemingly dire situations. We are called to be bright beacons to the broken, even as we too, face the storm, knowing God has us.
We don’t need to destroy anyone else in the name of our faith and our love for God is measured by the way we care for our neighbors. We aren’t called to despise them, to erase them, to expel them—to fear them.
The reason the command not to fear was so prevalent in Scripture, was because (as now) there was so much for finite and fragile people to be afraid of. We’d be delusional to look around at the world we’re living in and not be initially terrified. With the legion of horrors running non-stop through our newsfeeds, it’s so easy to become spiritually disoriented, to lose sight of anything sure and steady. When that happens in your soul; when faith leaks out, fear seeps in–and you start sinking.
And once that fear becomes the dominant force in your religion, you end up becoming more and more terrified, more desperate, more reactionary in your responses to the world in front of you. You grow increasingly hostile to those you perceive as outsiders, more intolerant of those who are different, more pulled toward a defense posture.
In other words: You become less and less like Jesus.
What you’re seeing right now from so many professed Conservative Christians, is not Jesus—or the loving, radically-hospitable, interdependent community which initially sprang from his life and ministry.
It may have commandeered his name and appropriated some select quotes and have a similar veneer, but it is not Jesus Christianity.
It’s a monstrosity; a Frankensteined faith made of rabid nationalism, culture war posturing, and terrified self-preservation, not of the foot-washing, enemy-loving, humble, suffering Christ of the Gospels. This thing is a flailing, angry, violent monster that once began as a noble experiment in life.
Most Conservative Christians have lived so long in this grotesque perversion of Jesus, that they simply accept that this is how their faith is supposed to look and sound and react. They live in an echo chamber of agreement in churches and talk shows and podcasts. That’s why when Christian politicians demonize immigrants and vilify trans teens and label anyone who confronts them “the enemy within,” so many stand and applaud and amen with righteous fervor, because they now have fear as their default setting and so aggression feels natural, even holy.
Never mind, that the Gospel is overflowing with the words and examples of Jesus on how to love lavishly, how to pour oneself out for another, how to bless even those who curse you. They’ve almost come to laugh off that stuff as meaningless; as if Jesus either didn’t really mean what he said or that what he said is no longer useful.
That Jesus; (the one from the Gospels) really doesn’t fit into Conservative Christianity. He’s too soft, too tolerant, too vulnerable, too Beta—too woke. In fact, the faith that so many in the this nation now call Christianity, retains only the smallest sliver of its former self; conveniently just enough to make people feel they are doing something redemptive as they persecute their neighbor.
Outside of that, the rest is purely the star-spangled American Dream of fearful white-folk, all wrapped around a cross. In this faith, people are perfectly content to demand revenge when they get hurt, to live fat and happy surrounded by poverty, and to pick fights whenever they’re confronted—confident that Jesus approves of all of it. They become able, only to see God in their own jittery, xenophobic, self-centered image.
But Jesus was born as a homeless traveler whose family struggled to find welcome.
His parents fled with him as refugees to escape politically-motivated genocide.
He lived and ministered in poverty at the mercy of others’ generosity.
He had a sprawling, ever-expanding table of hospitality that offered no exceptions.
He held more power than anyone on the planet, yet never used that power in force in the face of disagreement, confrontation, or difference.
He was a radically empathetic peacemaker whose heart broke for the suffering around him.
And time and time again, Jesus commanded his followers to choose faith over fear. It’s time we do so.
The heart of Christianity (as modeled by Jesus) is inclusion and welcome and invitation. It is a relentless hope that cannot be overtaken by adversity or turbulence. It is a calling to serve and help and heal.
It is not this continually-petrified narcissism that vilifies the other and sanctions bigotry and demands blood.
I love Jesus Christianity, just not what Conservative Americans call Christianity.
I don’t think that is helping anyone, including those who practice it.
Until we who seek to follow Jesus choose to emulate the actual life of Christ and not the characteristics of our country, we’ll always be living a counterfeit religion—and we’ll always be afraid.
And no one is at their best when they’re terrified.
John Pavlovitz
John Pavlovitz is a writer, pastor, and activist from Wake Forest, North Carolina. A 25-year veteran in the trenches of local church ministry, John is committed to equality, diversity, and justice—both inside and outside faith communities. When not actively working for a more compassionate planet, John enjoys spending time with his family, exercising, cooking, and having time in nature. He is the author of A Bigger Table, Hope and Other Superpowers, Low, and Stuff That Needs to Be Said.