Love Thy Neighbor: Choosing Hope Over Fear
Reclaiming Faith, Morality, and Community from Christian Nationalism
I grew up on the idea that faith was supposed to be about love.
“Love thy neighbor” wasn’t just a verse—it was the whole point.
Sunday school taught me about feeding the hungry, about compassion over judgment, about casting no stones. The miracle of the loaves and fishes wasn’t about bread. It was about responsibility—the belief that if we have the ability to help, no one should go without.
But somewhere along the way, that message got hijacked.
A louder, angrier version of Christianity took root.
One that asks who deserves food instead of how to share it.
One that preaches love—but only for people who look, think, and worship the same way.
And now, in today’s America, that twisted version of faith has a name: Christian Nationalism.
When Faith Becomes a Weapon
Christian Nationalists claim they’re fighting for religion, but what they’re really fighting for is control.
They preach “religious freedom,” but only if it’s their religion.
They champion “family values,” but ignore families at the border.
They quote scripture while cutting food assistance and healthcare.
“The Bible says that we are to occupy until He comes—that means dominate.”
— Paula White, former spiritual advisor to Donald Trump
This isn’t about faith. It’s about power disguised as piety.
And if we stay quiet, we let them redefine what morality even means.
Oklahoma Knows Better
I live in the Bible Belt.
And let me tell you—most people here aren’t like that.
When tornadoes hit, when floods come, when tragedy strikes—we show up.
No one checks immigration status before pulling someone from the rubble.
No one asks about church attendance before serving a hot meal.
Because deep down, Oklahomans know what decency looks like.
We take care of each other.
That’s the faith I grew up with—the kind that doesn’t need politics to prove it’s real.
Fear Is a Hell of a Drug
Christian Nationalism thrives on fear.
It tells people they’re under attack, that their faith is being stolen, that their “way of life” is slipping away.
But no one is banning Christianity.
No one is stopping prayer.
No one is persecuting believers.
What’s really happening is that power is being challenged—and some people would rather rewrite the rules than share the table.
That’s not persecution.
That’s entitlement wearing a cross.
Choosing Hope Over Fear
I don’t buy the idea that cruelty is inevitable.
I’ve seen too much kindness to believe that.
I’ve seen churches open their doors to anyone who needed shelter.
I’ve seen secular groups fight for justice with just as much heart.
I’ve seen strangers rebuild homes for people they barely knew.
That’s what faith—and humanity—should look like.
Not control. Not purity tests. But care.
“The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”
— Martin Luther King Jr.
Fear builds walls.
Love builds bridges.
And I’d rather spend my life building than barricading.
How We Push Back
Christian Nationalism doesn’t fall because we yell louder.
It falls because we live better.
Here’s where we start:
📌 Challenge the lies. When someone says America was founded as a Christian nation—ask them to prove it. (Spoiler: they can’t.)
📌 Vote for policy, not piety. Choose leaders who defend rights, not rituals.
📌 Lead with example. Let your compassion outshine their control.
📌 Work together. Faith-based or secular—doesn’t matter. Kindness doesn’t require permission.
This isn’t about winning arguments. It’s about reclaiming morality from those who’ve turned it into marketing.
Love Is Still the Way
We are better than this moment.
We are better than the politicians who use fear to win and faith to divide.
The Christianity I was taught fed people.
The one I see now starves them—physically and spiritually.
If your faith tells you to turn your back on the hungry, the sick, or the poor—it’s not faith.
It’s control.
And control has nothing to do with God.
Stay curious. Stay human. And always, be kind.
