The 12 Steps of Recovery and Christianity’s Highest Ideals

The 12 Steps of Recovery and Christianity’s Highest Ideals

For those who have walked the path of recovery, the 12 steps represent a guide and a lifeline. Introduced by Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) in the 1930s, these spiritual principles have transcended their original purpose, finding resonance with millions seeking healing and restoration from addiction. But woven into this framework—often unnoticed or underappreciated—is a profound reflection of the highest ideals of Christianity. Each step hints at Christian philosophy, spirituality, and a more profound calling to live a life of grace, humility, and redemption. To explore the 12 steps is to recognize the threads that tie them to the faith that has shaped practicing Christians over centuries.

Each of the 12 steps finds its roots in the core tenets of Christianity. They speak to truths that are not merely abstract but essential to the Christian walk—a call to humility, accountability, forgiveness, and a continual leaning toward God.  These principles also work miracles in a secular life, and they do not need theological dogma to support them.  The experiences of those who have benefited from real-life applications to their lives have become some of the most trustworthy truth sharers of our age.

Step 1: We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.

This step mirrors the Christian virtue of humility, a recurring theme throughout scripture. “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6). Acknowledging powerlessness isn’t a weakness but the starting point of transformation, as Christ himself taught, “Blessed are the poor in spirit” (Matthew 5:3).

Step 2: Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

Faith is an indispensable pillar of Christianity, and Step 2 invites the individual to trust in a Power—God—more significant than human frailty. Hebrews 11:1 reminds us that “faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.”

Step 3: Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.

To surrender fully to God is the essence of Christian discipleship. Echoing Proverbs 3:5-6, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.”

Step 4 & 5:

The call to self-examination and confession—“Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves” (Step 4) and “Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs” (Step 5)—directly reflects Psalm 139’s plea, “Search me, God, and know my heart…see if there is any offensive way in me” (Psalm 139:23-24). Confession is not a process of judgment but healing, a practice emphasized in James 5:16, “Confess your sins to each other…so that you may be healed.”

Step 6 & 7:

Steps 6 and 7—embracing change and humbly asking for God’s help—are reminiscent of David’s prayer in Psalm 51, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me” (Psalm 51:10).

Steps 8 & 9:

The efforts to make amends rest squarely on Jesus’ teachings about reconciliation. “Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there…First go and be reconciled to them” (Matthew 5:23-24).

Steps 10-12:

Daily accountability, prayer, and helping others are the final steps in living a faith that transforms. They embody the Christian ideal of perseverance and service, gloriously summarized in Galatians 6:2, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”

Each step is a practice in trusting God, a higher power, or a willingness to change while seeking truth and embodying love—the highest call of any faith or spiritual practice.

The impact of the 12 steps, when rooted in Christian faith, is nothing short of life-altering. Stories abound of individuals whose lives were restored through this framework, shaped by a deep dependence on their understanding of God, higher power, Allah, or whatever name they choose to represent the highest spiritual power.

Take my story, for example. A recovering alcoholic, I first joined a 12-step program in 1984 at meetings that openly embraced Christian principles.  As I no longer was a practicing Christian, and I loathe the idea of God as some masculine protector and overseer, I changed “him” or “he” to “God” to keep the steps relevant to my experience.  Through Steps 1-12, I experienced a profound moment of surrender.  The peace I found when I entrusted my brokenness to God, as I understood God, was to bring a remarkable transformation to me.  I experienced the divine feminine aspect of God, which balanced my understanding of the Universe’s highest power. I became reconciled with estranged family members and with society, which was a tangible act of grace that redefined decades of pain. Today, I serve my family and local community through volunteering and mentoring others through the same framework that saved my life.

Empirical and anecdotal evidence supports the power of twelve-step recovery. Studies have shown higher success rates in programs incorporating spirituality, including prayer and communal accountability, than in purely cognitive behavioral modification and other rational models. The psychological and sociological benefits of spiritual recovery—from fostering hope to reducing isolation—speak volumes about its enduring impact.

Criticism and misconceptions surrounding the connection between Christianity and the 12 steps are inevitable. Some argue that the steps cater to a general spirituality and are not distinctly Christian. Others voice concerns about exclusion for those outside the faith.

While it is true that the steps are open to individuals of all beliefs, their foundation remains deeply rooted in Christian ideals. Bill Wilson, co-founder of AA, once shared the influence of the Oxford Group—a Christian fellowship—on the 12 steps. Though intentionally inclusive, the language of the steps reflects timeless Christian virtues.

To those concerned about exclusion, it’s important to clarify that the 12 steps provide a framework, not a mandate. They invite each individual to connect with a higher power in the manner most accessible to them while offering Christian principles, many of them common to other religions and spiritual philosophies, as a path to hope and renewal.

The 12 steps take participants on a profound spiritual and emotional pilgrimage. When merged with Christianity’s highest ideals, they remind us of our capacity to access a higher power—an uplifting energy that can support us even in our darkest moments.  It calls us to accountability and leads us toward healing. They allow participants to align themselves with the principles that Christ himself modeled—humility, surrender, and an unrelenting resolve to love and reconcile.

For Christians seeking recovery—or anyone drawn to the deep shadows and redemptive light of the Christian story, or any story similar to that of the Rise of the Phoenix, where one’s life crashes and burns and then resurrects itself from the ashes—the 12 steps are more than a method. They embody faith in action, the “evidence of things not seen” that leads to transformation.

If you’re navigating your recovery—or walking alongside someone who is—the 12 steps offer not only hope but a profound reminder of the richness of the true Christian faith and not the corrupted, monetized, and politicized affronts to our spiritual sensibilities that we now see all too often. We do not have to belong to a church or claim the Christian religion to succeed in recovery and the totality of our lives.  The AA steps urge us to reflect, to heal, and, most importantly, to trust.

What if such transformations could ripple out to families, communities, and beyond? And what role might faith and grace play in a religiously devotional or secular spirituality-based pursuit of truth in your life today?

Consider this your invitation to explore, reflect, and engage. I cannot promise the road ahead will be easy, but I can promise it’s worth walking.

AA Book, the one that traveled through the underworld with me

Creating an Enhanced Life Narrative and Higher Consciousness Through the 12 Steps of Recovery

Many look towards spiritual practices, meditation, and self-reflection in the quest for a better life story or even higher consciousness. One often overlooked yet profoundly impactful method comes from the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA). Originally designed to help individuals recover from alcoholism and addiction, these steps can also be a guide for anyone seeking to enhance their narrative, elevate their consciousness, and make meaningful, positive changes in their lives.

Understanding the Classic 12 Steps of AA

Understanding the original framework established by AA is essential and then seeing how that simple skeleton can get fleshed out by real-life experiences, while deriving insight and evolving understanding

1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.
2. We came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being, the exact nature of our wrongs.
6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
8. I made a list of all the persons we had harmed and became willing to make amends for them all.
9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
10. Continued to take personal inventory and, when we were wrong, promptly admitted it.
11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs

The Reinterpreted 12 Steps for Higher Consciousness

These original steps serve as a foundation for personal transformation. However, they can be reinterpreted to address broader spiritual and psychological growth. Here’s a spiritually reinterpreted version of the 12 steps:

1. Through our own extended suffering, we finally found the desire to want it to end. We admitted that when we become self-destructively habituated to any substance, situation, or perception, or judgement and/or lack of forgiveness in our relationships with others, we lose our freedom of choice, bring unnecessary trauma into our lives, and into the lives of others, and, thus, fail to achieve any lasting sense of inner peace and joy. We finally realize that our lives have been lived unconsciously, and have become unmanageable as a result of that neglect.

2.  With our new found hope and openness for change, came the desire to begin to awaken to higher possibilities for our lives. We realized that, in our essence, we have an interior, though neglected, power that will heal us and restore us to balance, if we pursue it in earnest. We now realize that we have not been living up to our full potential as human beings.

3.  We made a decision to turn our will, and our lives, over to the care of our higher interior power. We become open to the possibility of embracing a new Truth for our lives. We want to access the power to continuously evolve, and we want to cultivate our heart to be more loving to ourselves and to others. We decide to let go of ANYTHING that impedes our progress towards happiness, healing and wholeness. We realize that without the deepest of desires, and intentions, to change our behavior, we will not be transformed.

4.  We made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves. We have lived a life without a high sense of self-esteem, and we have made unfortunate choices because of the scarcity consciousness that has resulted from it. We realize that when we find the blocks to our evolution, and become willing to remove them, our new found insight will guide our paths with precision to the Truth of our existence. This is our entrance onto the path of mindfulness and higher consciousness.

5.  We admitted that we were not being truthful with ourselves and with others, and by talking with another who we may trust, yet not be beholden to, about our errors in judgement and in actions towards our self and others, we can better deal with the shame and self-judgement that so often arises from the deadly secrets that we once felt that we must keep. Just by honestly talking with someone else, our burdens can be lifted. Our secrets need no longer keep us imprisoned, and mentally ill. When two or more people come together in the spirit of truth and honesty, mutual compassion and empathy also become part of the gathering.

6.  We became entirely willing to let go of our attachments to unhealthy attitudes, behavior, and people. We wish to see clearly, without the limitations of our past, of our family history, and of our cultural conditioning, with all of their embedded trauma.

7.  We open our hearts through humility and the willingness to change to embrace a new possibility for our life. Our new found sense of connection with our higher interior power inspires us to become more grateful for the gifts that we now have, and we are now spiritually preparing to finally give back to the world in a meaningful, positive way. We want to finally let go of all of the emotional charged memories which keep us trapped in a dead past. Rejoice, for the old demons are being transformed into the new angels!

8.  While we were unconscious to our higher potential as human beings, we brought emotional, spiritual and perhaps even physical harm to other innocent beings, and we want to try bring healing and peace to those who have suffered from the effects of our ignorance. We realize that through the mirror of all of our relationships, dysfunctional or otherwise, we are granted a view into how we truly see ourselves. We want to see through the eyes of Truth, and not through the pain and suffering that unfulfilled relationships may have brought to us.

9.  We made direct amends wherever possible to all people we may have brought harm to, except when to do so would bring further injury to them or to others. Our guilt will not be assuaged at the expense of others. We make full application of our new found wisdom, and our renewed desire to bring no harm to any sentient being. We want our world, and our own personal sense of self, to feel safe from further attacks from us, and our honest disclosure of our mistakes to those impacted by our errors in judgement will continue to support that intention.

10.  We continued to take personal inventory, and, when wrong, promptly admit it. We have become honest with ourselves. We practice mindfulness, and continue to develop our capacity for insight into ourselves. We now know ourselves, and we now know many of the potential impediments to experiencing and expressing the Truth of our being. We no longer solely abide in old modes of thought, and now we are more focused on the beauty of the present moment.

11.  We sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with the Truth of our being, praying only for knowledge of Truth, and the willingness to live within its infinite domain. We now understand that this whole process of recovery is a meditation on life, and that the evolving, healing life that we are now experiencing is our living prayer. Each time we drink from the deep interior waters revealed to us by meditation, more of our painful dreams are dissolved. We finally realize that the capacity to change, to evolve, to grow in our infinite spirit is the whole point of our human existence. We are now traveling upon new paths of consciousness.

12.  Having had a spiritual awakening as a result of these steps, we attempted to carry our message of recovery to our world, while continuing to practice these principles in all our affairs. We have finally become whole, and are now conscious, caring human beings. We have accepted full personal responsibility for our lives, including healing our past, and keeping our present balanced and harmonious, and we no longer blame others for who we are now. We are now experiencing prosperity on many levels, and have witnessed the healing of ourselves. We have saved the world—from ourselves. Our life is now our truest teacher. We realize that we have no power to bring salvation to others, yet, it is our responsibility to point to the way of healing for others who may still be suffering, and who may finally become interested in overcoming their own limitations.

The Journey from Suffering to Awakening

Creating higher consciousness involves more than just following a set of steps; it requires a deep, ongoing commitment to self-awareness, honesty, and transformation. Recovery is not limited to those struggling with addiction but is a pathway for anyone seeking to heal and grow.

“Be mindful, oh Mankind, of all the painful secrets that we must keep,

For, by our suffering silence, we will not awaken, but just die alone, powerless, and asleep.”

This advice reflects the essence of the 12 steps—breaking the silence, facing our truths, and striving for a higher state of being.

This practice is a wonderful methodology for developing an expanded and insight filled life narrative.

Realizing higher consciousness involves releasing attachments, transcending conditioned beliefs, and awakening to the present moment’s beauty and sacredness.

Recovery and higher consciousness are about finding your personal truth and making amends with yourself and others. It’s a lifelong process that brings profound peace, joy, and fulfillment.  And it creates perfect foundations for better life narratives.

If you’re seeking to elevate your consciousness, consider exploring the 12 steps and reinterpreting them in ways that resonate with your spiritual and psychological needs. Remember, this journey is not just about overcoming addiction; it’s about achieving a higher state of being and living a life filled with purpose, love, and clarity.

It is also about presenting to yourself, and to the world, the best possible life narrative.

It is a long, happy life, for those who finally find their personal Truth.

• Whatever Happened to Truth?
• Has Modern Christianity Strayed from the Teachings of Jesus?
• What would Jesus say if He walked among us today and observed how His teachings have been interpreted and practiced?
• Would He recognize the faith He inspired, or would He find a disjointed and politicized religion far removed from its origins?

These questions force us to examine the heart of modern Christianity, a faith that, for many, no longer resembles the revolutionary teachings of Jesus of Nazareth.

The Family, a documentary that shocked many, cast a vivid light on the unsettling transformation of Christianity into a tool of political power. But its implications stretch beyond politics, prompting us to confront a deeper issue—how far we’ve wandered from the profoundly human and compassionate principles Jesus embodied. Particularly distressing is the way accountability and repentance—foundational pillars of his teachings—have been diluted into performative gestures or outright avoidance.

Christianity’s origins lie in teachings that emphasized humility, love, repentance, and personal accountability. Jesus’ call to “love your neighbor as yourself,” His prioritization of forgiveness, and the radical inclusivity of His ministry were, and remain, countercultural. Yet, these teachings often feel overshadowed today by practices that prioritize self-preservation and tribal loyalty over genuine accountability.

One critical departure is the concept of repentance. Historically, repentance in Jesus’ teachings was not a mere private act between an individual and God. It was a transformational turning point expressed outwardly through actions—making amends to those harmed, seeking reconciliation, and living differently moving forward.

Contrast this with the modern phenomenon of Christians who view repentance as only an internal matter, sealed off from worldly consequences. When harm is done, corrections are minimized, secrets are kept, and accountability is replaced with a cultural conspiracy of silence, particularly within tight-knit “tribes” of the faithful. Public repentance—when it does occur—often seems triggered not by inward conviction, but by external exposure or public shame. This dissonance leads to a troubling erosion of authenticity and integrity within faith practice.

Jeff Sharlet’s expose The Family depicts a stark reality—Christianity wielded as a political weapon rather than a spiritual practice. The film captures how some influential Christians have reinterpreted Jesus’ teachings to justify power, control, and tribal favoritism. Within this distortion, a dangerous narrative emerges: believers are chosen and therefore above accountability to their fellow humans. Sins can be hidden, excused, or left unaddressed, so long as they are justified by allegiance to the “faithful tribe.”

This selective interpretation of Christianity not only contradicts the character of Jesus but damages its public perception. For many outsiders, Christianity now appears hypocritical—an institution more concerned with protecting its insiders than embodying the universal compassion it preaches. Through its intimate look at The Family, the documentary underscores the urgency of reclaiming the spirit of personal accountability and humility that has been lost.

At its core, Jesus’ message was deeply interpersonal. Forgiveness was never meant to be an abstract transaction between a person and God, devoid of human connection. It was about repairing trust within the community. When Zacchaeus the tax collector resolved to repay those he had cheated (Luke 19), Jesus celebrated not just his resolve, but his tangible actions. This event underscores the biblical model of accountability—honest repentance coupled with real-world effort to right wrongs.

Modern Christianity’s approach to forgiveness and repentance often skips these steps. Instead of bridging gaps between individuals or confronting injustice, forgiveness is treated as a singular act of divine absolution that bypasses earthly acknowledgment of harm. This misinterpretation leans on a God that excuses behaviors rather than inspires change—a deeply harmful drift from the original ethos of the faith.

Our former brother-in-law, Michael Borg, was married twice to my wife’s sister Laretta. He claimed to be a devout and practicing Christian.  During the first separation from his wife in 1996, Loretta moved up to Oregon from their Southern California home to live with us in Portland, Oregon.  Mike was incensed that any family member would offer support to his estranged wife, and threatened to come up to Oregon and kill us all.  Eventually there was a reconciliation between Michael and Laretta, but no reconciliation occurred with the rest of the family.  I queried Michael on his beliefs in Christianity, and why he didn’t feel the need to make things right with the family that he had threatened with death.  Mike stated that he was practicing “radical forgiveness” and the issue was only between him and God, and God forgave him, so we are misguided and on our own if we expect any amends from him.  He advised that we all just need to “go to God and ask for forgiveness” for not forgiving Mike like God had already forgiven him.  Well, as the reader might imagine, the family never welcomed Mike back into its good graces, fearing what would happen next if he ever lost his temper again.  Mike did not make any effort at self-improvement, and performed a spiritual bypass of Christiabity’s basic tenets.  Mike failed in regaining the trust of anyone, and experienced the consequences for the rest of the time he was in the troubled relationship with Laretta. Mike failed to perform the hard work demanded of true Christians, much like too much of the rest of the Christian world.

The divergence between modern practices and the teachings of Jesus creates a growing hunger for authenticity among spiritual seekers. Is there a way to bridge this gap and bring Christianity closer to its original blueprint? Here are some guiding principles:

1. Reclaim Repentance as Action

Repentance must move beyond whispered prayers and internal resolutions. It requires courage to face those harmed, acknowledge wrongdoing, and take active steps toward healing relationships. Churches and Christian leaders have an opportunity to model this publicly, encouraging their communities to normalize the act of making amends.

1. Foster a Culture of Accountability

Accountability must no longer feel like an attack, but a sacred practice that strengthens faith and community. Christians should prioritize transparency and mutual responsibility, reflecting the example of early Christian communities described in Acts, which shared openly and cared for one another.

1. Call Out Tribal Protectionism

The tribal instinct to protect “insiders” often overshadows the call to love universally. Churches must be willing to address their own failings without defensiveness, recognizing that real repentance and humility are far more aligned with the teachings of Jesus than the preservation of reputation.

1. Integrate Compassion with Justice

Forgiveness and justice must coexist. To forgive does not mean to overlook or justify harm but to seek ways to reconcile compassion with accountability. This balance leads to the deeper restoration that Jesus envisioned.

1. Engage in Open Dialogue

Faith communities must move away from dogma and toward meaningful conversations about faith, accountability, and human connection. Welcoming spiritual seekers, doubters, and critics into these forums can help Christianity remain dynamic, introspective, and deeply human.

The question remains—how can we restore a practice of faith that Jesus Himself would recognize as His own? The answer lies in humility and courage. It lies in admitting when we’ve strayed and taking actionable steps to realign our practices with the timeless principles of love, accountability, and compassion.

To spiritual seekers and critical thinkers, this is an invitation to join the conversation. Open dialogue about faith and accountability is not just a plea for reform within Christianity—it’s a call for us all to explore what it means to live authentically. Only when we are unafraid to question, confront, and grow can we hope to build a practice of faith that truly reflects the teachings of Jesus, a faith that heals rather than harms.

Will you engage in this dialogue? Will you seek compassion over conformity and accountability over avoidance? Reach out, share your thoughts, and help us all rediscover the humanity at the heart of faith.

And withdraw from American Christianity’s conspiracy of silence.  Admit your failings to those you have harmed, and make amends for your misguided actions.

We will all experience the joy of more peaceful, truth guided, forgiving, loving lives if American Christianity finally begins to practice real, Jesus of Nazareth inspired Christianity.

I am not holding my breath.

The Contradictions of Faith and Power: Donald Trump and the Divergence from Historical Christianity

Christianity is a tapestry woven with the threads of love, humility, sacrifice, and justice. At its core, it beckons humanity toward selfless service, a concern for the marginalized, and a pursuit of truth that transcends personal ambition. And yet, amidst the shifting sands of modern political arenas, these very tenets risk being eroded—or at least conveniently overlooked—by those who align their faith with power structures that stand in stark contrast to historical Christianity. The relationship between Donald Trump and many of his Christian supporters is perhaps one of the most striking illustrations of this paradox.

“Love your neighbor as yourself.” This landmark teaching of Jesus encapsulates the essence of Christian ethics. However, in Donald Trump’s rhetoric and policies during his tenure, this ideal often seemed eclipsed by divisive language and actions. From inflammatory comments targeting immigrants to dismissive attitudes toward the vulnerable, there have been repeated moments at odds with the selflessness that historical Christian figures like St. Francis of Assisi, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, or Mother Teresa embodied.

How does one reconcile, for instance, the gospel call to care for the “least of these” with policies that separate families at borders or marginalize already disadvantaged communities? It’s tempting—and all too easy—to reinterpret scripture through the lens of nationalism or self-preservation. Yet, doing so risks diluting the radical love at the heart of Christ’s teachings.

Humility is a hallmark of the Christian walk. The story of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples is the ultimate act of leadership rooted in humility and servitude. And yet, Trump, a leader often celebrated and defended by large swaths of Christian America, openly espouses a gospel of self-aggrandizement, branding his name as synonymous with success, power, and unrivaled authority.

The grandeur of gold-laden towers starkly contrasts with “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” Trump’s unabashed pride begs the question of how faith communities ought to grapple with their fidelity to a message that explicitly champions the opposite virtues—meekness, contrition, and repentance.

Those who defend Trump often point to select passages of scripture to justify their loyalty—emphasizing the Bible’s directives to respect earthly leaders or seek influence in high places. However, selective application of scripture is not a new phenomenon. Some of the darkest chapters of Christian history—from the Crusades to the defense of slavery—arose when the faith was weaponized and stripped from its full ethical context.

The gospel does not concern itself with cherry-picking that confirms biases; rather, it insists on holistic transformation. Many Christians tout alignment with specific moral issues like abortion or religious liberty as validation for their allegiance to Trump. Yet, it begs the question—should Christians trade the broader calling of justice, compassion, and humility for political wins in select battles? It’s a question the early church, unyielding to Roman imperialism and dedicated to the entirety of Christ’s message, would likely answer resoundingly.

The global perception of Christianity has not gone unscathed in America. When Christian leaders and communities link themselves so visibly to a polarizing figure like Trump, the faith risks being perceived as politically expedient rather than spiritually transformative. Among non-Christians (and indeed, even many Christians), the alignment has sown seeds of distrust.

Perhaps more troubling, globally, the image of Christianity as a beacon of universal love and justice risks eroding. Trump’s rhetoric—often laced with nationalistic overtones—is far less likely to inspire the universal brotherhood that Christianity proclaims. Instead, the alignment between political agendas and religion threatens to carve lines of division, even within the faith itself.

History has given us countless examples of Christians who courageously lived their values without compromising them for political favor. Martin Luther King Jr., guided by his unshakable belief in dignity and justice rooted in scripture, confronted uncomfortable truths while eschewing the temptation to trade moral clarity for popularity. Desmond Tutu, in the face of apartheid, stood firm not in alignment with earthly powers but in solidarity with the dispossessed.

What these figures teach us is that the credibility of Christian witness lies not in asserting dominance but in embodying the gospel—even when it costs.

For progressive Christians, sociologists, and thinkers alike, this moment provides an opportunity to reflect deeply on the intersection of faith and politics. How can Christians fully embody their historical values within the public sphere without compromising them for the sake of political expediency? How can faith communities reclaim a vision of Christianity that values servanthood over supremacy, humility over hubris, and solidarity over separateness?

To be clear, this critique is not an indictment of supporting political leaders or participating in governance. Instead, it is an invitation for Christian communities to examine their alignment critically. May the grace, justice, and profound humility that Christ exemplified guide the church’s engagement with power—not for the church’s gain, but for the sake of love, mercy, and the “least of these.”

When Christianity aligns too closely with any earthly power, it risks losing sight of its heavenly calling. It is, after all, a faith not built on thrones of gold but on a cross of wood. Never forget that Jesus was crucified because the crowd wanted Barrabus, the legendary thief and murderer to be set free.  The crowd has not changed, but Barrabus has changed into Donald Trump.

The call remains the same today as it was then—to serve, not to be served; to love, not to dominate. When faith and power collide, may Christians have the courage to remain steadfast in the pursuit of love and justice, even when it means walking away from the allure of political victory.

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