Christianity Without Culture Wars
Following Jesus doesn’t require picking a side—it requires laying one down.
I used to think being a Christian meant picking a side. Not a side of theology or doctrine—but a side in the fight. There was the “right side”: moral, traditional, Bible-believing. And there was the “wrong side”: secular, progressive, anti-God. That was the framework I inherited. I didn’t question it. I memorized it. I tried to live it.
In high school, I wore the T-shirts, debated the issues, and quietly judged anyone who strayed too far from what I thought faith should look like. I wasn’t trying to be arrogant—I genuinely believed I was standing for truth. But then I went to college. I joined a debate team. I traveled across the country and met people with stories, backgrounds, and convictions that challenged everything I thought I knew. And somewhere along the way, I started listening more than I preached.
That’s when it cracked. Not my faith, but the boxes I had put around it. The more I listened, the more I realized that people on “the other side” weren’t rebellious or godless—they were kind, thoughtful, compassionate. Some of them lived out the love of Christ more than the people I had grown up admiring. And that terrified me, because if they were reflecting Jesus, what did that mean about the war I thought I was supposed to be fighting?
The Collision of Faith and Ideology
We don’t talk about this enough in Christian spaces, but Jesus doesn’t belong to a political party. He never did. He didn’t campaign for Rome or align Himself with the religious elite. He didn’t spend His time fighting over cultural policies. He spent His time healing the broken, touching the untouchable, and calling out the self-righteous. He flipped tables—not because of sinners—but because the gatekeepers had made God unreachable.
Today, we’ve made Christianity look like a culture war. We’ve convinced people that to follow Jesus is to vote a certain way, post a certain meme, or take a certain stance on every headline that trends. And if you don’t toe the line? You’re labeled. Called out. Cast aside. But here’s the truth we’ve buried under all the noise: Jesus didn’t die so we could win arguments on the internet. He didn’t rise so we could shame people into submission. The Gospel isn’t a weapon. And faith isn’t a political strategy.
Why People Are Walking Away
I know why people are leaving the church. I’ve watched it happen. I’ve felt it myself. They’re not walking away from Jesus. They’re walking away from the performance. From the manipulation. From the way we’ve made faith feel more like a voting bloc than a spiritual home. They’re tired of being told that following Christ means picking between two sides when Jesus Himself refused to be boxed in.
And can you blame them?
We’ve created an environment where it’s easier to mimic outrage than it is to practice humility. Where it’s more acceptable to mock your enemies than to love them. Where allegiance to a tribe is often more important than obedience to Christ. We’ve forgotten that the greatest commandment wasn’t “Be right.” It was “Love God and love your neighbor.” That’s not soft theology. That’s radical discipleship.
A Better Way Forward
But here’s the good news: there’s a better way. A quieter way. A deeper way.
What if we stopped fighting culture wars and started actually living the Gospel? What if being a Christian wasn’t about performance or platform—but about presence? What if we chose to be the people who listen first, repent often, and serve quietly? The ones who pray with our feet, not just our mouths. The ones who show up in love—not because we agree, but because we’re anchored in something bigger than opinion.
I believe we don’t need louder Christians right now—we need gentler ones. Not passive. Not silent. But bold in a different way. Bold in empathy. Bold in nuance. Bold in grace.
Reclaiming, Not Rejecting
I’m not walking away from my faith. I’m reclaiming it. Not the version that was hijacked by power. Not the one that taught me faith and fear go hand in hand.
But the faith that set captives free.
The faith that sat at tables with sinners and broke every expectation of what holiness looked like.
Jesus never once said, “Pick a side.” He said, “Pick up your cross.” If you’re tired of the noise, you’re not alone. If you’re exhausted by the performance, me too.
There’s room here for a different kind of faith. One not rooted in fear, but in love.
One that doesn’t need culture wars to prove its strength—because it’s strong enough to stand on its own.
Reader Reflection
Have you ever felt pressure to choose between faith and political identity?
What parts of your faith feel heavy with performance instead of connection?
Where do you see Jesus clearly, outside the noise?
Write it down. Pray about it. Or just sit with it.
You don’t have to have all the answers to begin asking better questions.
A Prayer for the Tired Believer
God,
You see how tired we are of the fighting. Of the noise. Of the pressure to perform. Remind us who You really are—not the version that’s been marketed, but the One who weeps with us, walks with us, and welcomes us home. Help us walk in truth without fear, speak with grace without compromise, and love without condition. Make us bold in compassion and steady in peace. Let us be anchored in You, not the war around us.
Amen.
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🔥🔥🔥 This is soooo solid!