Or: What happens when you weaponize the Prince of Peace

There's something darkly funny about watching people wrap themselves in the cross while doing everything their supposed saviour explicitly told them not to do. It's like claiming to be vegan while hosting a barbecue competition.

Yet here we are, living through the golden age of performative piety, where the loudest Christians seem to have missed every memo Jesus ever sent.

Christian Nationalism isn't Christianity. It's Christianity's evil twin—the one that got into politics, developed a power addiction, and started selling salvation to the highest bidder.

When WWJD Became WWRD (What Would Reagan Do)

Remember when Christianity was about Christ? Those were simpler times. Back when "love thy neighbour" wasn't followed by fine print about voter registration requirements.

The modern Christian Nationalist movement has performed theological gymnastics that would make Cirque du Soleil weep with envy. They've taken a brown-skinned Middle Eastern refugee who preached radical love and wealth redistribution, and somehow transformed him into a flag-waving, border-wall-building capitalist.

It's breathtaking in the worst possible way.

The Gospel According to Grift

Let's play a game called "What Would Jesus Actually Do?" Based on what he actually said, not what your pastor with the private jet claims he would have tweeted.

Jesus on wealth: "Easier for a camel to go through a needle's eye than for a rich man to enter heaven."

Christian Nationalists: "God wants you rich! Plant that seed money!"

Jesus on immigrants: "I was a stranger and you welcomed me."

Christian Nationalists: "Build that wall!"

Jesus on violence: "Turn the other cheek."

Christian Nationalists: "Stand your ground!"

Jesus on judgment: "Judge not lest ye be judged."

Christian Nationalists: gestures wildly at literally everything they say about anyone different.

The disconnect isn't subtle. It's a chasm so vast you could fit the entire Sermon on the Mount inside it.

All Show, No Soul

Here's the thing about performative piety—it's all performance, zero piety. Christianity as a brand rather than a belief. A tribal flag rather than a transformative practice.

Watch them on Sunday morning: perfect attendance, perfect suits, perfect smiles. Now watch Monday through Saturday. Same people screaming about Christian values while supporting policies that would make Jesus weep.

And yes, he literally wept over Jerusalem's lack of compassion. I checked.

They've turned faith into dinner theatre. Bad dinner theatre, where everyone forgot their lines but kept the spotlight anyway.

The Political Baptism

The real tragedy? They didn't start this way. The politicization happened gradually, then suddenly. Like going broke. Like climate change. Like that friend who discovered essential oils.

It began with good intentions—Christians wanting to engage the world around them. Noble enough. But engagement became entanglement. The Gospel became a campaign platform. The Kingdom of God became the Republican Party at prayer.

They traded prophetic voice for political power. Got neither.

Missing the Point (By Several Thousand Miles)

Jesus already gave us the test for identifying his followers. "By their fruits you will know them." Not by their votes or their flags. By their fruits.

Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.

Quick gut check: Does Christian Nationalism exhibit any of these? From where I'm sitting, they seem more interested in owning libs than loving neighbours.

They've missed the point so entirely that they've made atheists more Christ-like than Christians. That's not just ironic—it's tragic.

The Emperor's New Robes

Here's what's really happening: Christian Nationalism is what you get when you want Christianity's cultural power without Christianity's inconvenient demands. Spiritual privilege without spiritual responsibility.

They want the moral authority that comes with claiming to follow the ultimate moral teacher, but none of the moral obligations that actually following him requires. It's like wanting to be called a doctor without medical school—except the misdiagnosis affects entire nations.

The Road Not Taken

Imagine if USA Christians had actually followed Jesus instead of co-opting him. Suppose they'd focused on feeding hungry people instead of fighting culture wars if they'd prioritized loving outcasts instead of electing strongmen.

We might have Christianity that looked like, well, Christianity.

Instead, we got a movement that has done more damage to the Gospel's credibility than centuries of secular criticism ever could. They've turned the cross from a symbol of sacrificial love into a tribal tattoo.

The Quiet Revolution

The good news—yes, that's biblical—is that genuine Christianity still exists. You just have to look past the loudest voices. The Christians running soup kitchens instead of campaigns. Welcoming refugees instead of building walls. Actually, reading those red letters instead of cherry-picking verses that confirm their biases.

They're out there, quietly living the radical love that made Christianity world-changing in the first place. They're just too busy following Jesus to spend time performing for him.

Still waiting for someone to explain how "America First" aligns with "Blessed are the peacemakers." The silence remains deafening.