There is a particular Christianese language that demonizes “the enemy” and “the infidel,” in which “God is on my side” and “They’re holding me back.”
This triumphalistic self-affirming theology, wrapped up in warfare terms and royalty cliches, cannot stand criticism.
It assumes all disagreement is trolling.
It attempts to say “I have the truth” as if truth must be weaponized to hold over someone’s head.
It breeds yes-men and an insider’s club.
It moralizes its own values based on “who we are not.”
It is an anti-theology that covers deep insecurity with little fleeting boosts of ego.
It attacks the most minor offenses in “secular worldly” culture in order to play victim—when sadly, Christians and truly persecuted groups are killed daily overseas.
I’m guilty of abusing the persecution complex, too. It’s incredibly easy to fall into a dichotomous division between in-groups and out-groups, between my church and your church, my dogma versus yours, to feel important, as if by lots of motion I am really moving.
It’s easy for me to write a post like this and presume that I’m above all of it somehow, as if by mere awareness I have it figured out.
It’s easier to look certain in our convictions rather than say, “I don’t know, I’m still figuring it out,” or, “Can you help me understand?”
In the end, Jesus told us to love our enemies. Yes, them. To them, it’s us. Every person in this discussion needs grace and a generous space. The people who “don’t get it yet” are also you and me. The people who cry “I’m persecuted” need as much grace as you and I do. I pray for me. I pray for you.