Growing up, I was preoccupied with the “End Times.” Not because it brought me hope, but because things like the “Left Behind” series filled me with so much fear. Fear of not being “ready” when Jesus returned. This ingrained in me a distracting and problematic interpretative lens to world events that I still see used so often today.

In times of war, famine, and global crisis, some Christians rush not to the frontlines of compassion but to the pages of Revelation. Instead of asking, “Who is hurting?” or “How can we stop this injustice?”, they ask, “Is this a sign of the End?” They search the headlines like oracles, trying to decode divine timelines, while bodies lie broken beneath the weight of war, hunger, and displacement.

This is a harmful theology—not only because it is theologically thin, but because it is ethically bankrupt. It trains Christians to interpret suffering as a signpost, not a summons to help. It dulls the spiritual senses, replacing compassion with speculation. It leads us to treat the world’s pain not as something to relieve, but as something to interpret. What is worse, it can cause many to get excited over tragedy at the prospect of Jesus returning soon. In this framework, tragedy becomes evidence of God’s timetable rather than a call to embody Christ.

But this is not the way of Jesus.

The Jesus who wept over Jerusalem did not interpret its future destruction as justification for disengagement. The Jesus who healed the sick and fed the hungry did not say, “This is how the world must go before the end comes.” The Jesus who spoke of wars and rumors of wars in Matthew 24 followed it immediately with parables about faithful servants caring for others in his absence. He warned against disengagement and indifference.

When we look at human suffering and leap first to prophetic speculation, we bypass the Gospel. We forget that Jesus did not come to escape the world but to redeem it. The Incarnation itself testifies that God does not stand at a distance analyzing history—God enters it, bleeds in it, walks with the poor, and suffers with the wounded. A theology that uses End Times prophecy to sidestep our moral responsibility in the present is not Christian hope—it is Christian escapism.

This harmful lens often functions as a spiritual sedative, lulling believers into passivity. Why care for the earth if it’s going to burn? Why fight for justice if chaos means Christ is returning soon? Why advocate for peace when war seems to fulfill prophecy? The result is a church that has spiritualized its apathy and called it faith. Or worse, it encourages Christians to support such things as if it is bringing Christ’s return sooner.

But biblical hope is not passive. It is active. It doesn’t delight in tragedy or suffering. It groans with creation, it intercedes with compassion, it labors for justice. The same Paul who spoke of Christ’s return also pleaded for unity, shared his resources with the poor, and instructed believers to “overcome evil with good” (Romans 12:21).

When the church sees suffering and responds only with speculation, it misrepresents the heart of God. But when the church sees suffering and responds with love, advocacy, and sacrificial care, it becomes what it was meant to be: the body of Christ, present and visible in a hurting world.

This misplaced focus is not just a theological distraction — it is spiritually dangerous. Because when Jesus actually speaks about his return in Matthew 25, he doesn’t quiz people on whether they interpreted prophetic signs correctly. He doesn’t ask if we cracked the code of Revelation or followed the right eschatological timeline.

Instead, he judges the nations based on one thing: compassion.

“I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me…” (Matthew 25:35)

And when the people ask, “Lord, when did we see you?” he responds with breathtaking clarity:

“Whatever you did for one of the least of these… you did for me.”

Jesus doesn’t separate the sheep from the goats based on who was right about the rapture. He separates them based on who loved the suffering. And yet, a theology preoccupied with the signs of his coming often distracts us from doing the very things he says he will judge us by when he comes.

In this light, speculation becomes not just a misstep — it becomes a form of disobedience. Our obsession with “when” can keep us from faithfulness in the “now.” The real preparation for Christ’s return is not found in prophecy charts or news cycles. It’s found in daily acts of mercy. It’s in feeding the hungry, welcoming the refugee, tending to the sick, and visiting the imprisoned. It’s in showing up where the world is hurting and doing the slow, faithful work of love.

In the end, Jesus won’t ask us how closely we watched the sky. He’ll ask us how well we loved the ones who were lying in the dirt.

Some Theological Distinctions For Clarity:

“Israel’s role in the End Times.”

Here are some clarifications on the theological beliefs that are fueling Christian perspectives on the Middle East right now:

There’s no single, universally agreed-upon belief about what “has to happen” with Israel before Jesus returns. But here’s a breakdown of the most common perspectives and where they come from:

1. Dispensationalist View (Modern Evangelical/Fundamentalist)

This is the view many American evangelicals have been taught—especially through books like The Late Great Planet Earth, the Left Behind series, and the theology of John Nelson Darby. It teaches:

-God has two separate plans: one for Israel (the Jewish people) and one for the Church.

-Before Jesus returns, key events involving modern-day Israel must happen:

-The land of Israel must be controlled by Jews.

-A third Jewish temple must be rebuilt in Jerusalem.

-A great war (sometimes called “Gog and Magog” or Armageddon) will break out.

-Many Jews will eventually convert to Christianity during a future “Tribulation.”

Focus: This view often treats modern political events as prophecy fulfillment while ignoring the human cost of violence and occupation. It can lead Christians to support war and injustice in the region because they believe it “must happen” before Christ returns.

2. Fulfillment in Christ View (Historic Church View)

This older, more traditional view—held by many in Catholic, Orthodox, and mainline Protestant traditions—understands Jesus as the fulfillment of Israel’s mission:

-Jesus is the true Israel (see Matthew 2:15, Hosea 11:1, John 15:1).

-The Church (Jews and Gentiles united in Christ) becomes the continuation of God’s covenant people.

-There’s no need for a rebuilt temple—Jesus is the temple (John 2:19-21).

-God’s promises to Israel are fulfilled in Christ and extended to all nations.

Focus: Instead of looking to a modern nation-state for signs, this view encourages faithfulness, justice, and gospel witness as the Church awaits Christ’s return.

I write this as one who ardently believed the former then shifted my view to the latter after my theological studies.

So I can tell you from my own experience that when Christians see the modern state of Israel as central to prophecy, it often:

-Ignores the suffering of Palestinians, including Palestinian Christians.

-Supports war or occupation as necessary for God’s plan.

-Turns the gospel into a political timeline, rather than a call to love, justice, and repentance.

So while some Christians speculate about Israel’s role, I believe the New Testament calls believers to focus less on geopolitical predictions—and more on living lives of mercy, justice, and gospel witness as we await the return of Christ.

From Pulpits to the Pentagon

We can see this dispensational theology influence American policy most visibly through the words of the current secretary of defense, Pete Hegseth. In his 2020 book "American Crusade," he frames current global tensions—especially conflicts involving Islam and the Left—as part of a civilizational and spiritual battle. He chillingly draws direct parallels to the medieval Crusades, asserting “our present moment is much like the eleventh century.” He writes that America must undertake an “American crusade” alongside Israel to “push Islamism back”—both culturally and militarily .

He claims Islam is “not a religion of peace” and warns of an Islamist “hegira” or cultural takeover through high Muslim birth rates and immigration—a worldview suggesting a looming apocalyptic conflict . As a committed Christian Zionist, Hegseth refers to Israel as embodying the soul of the “American Crusade,” interweaving pro-Israel policy with biblical prophecy and end‑times expectations. He supports rebuilding the Third Temple on Jerusalem’s Temple Mount—a move fraught with potential for regional escalation. This is also shown in his political speeches, where he repeatedly declares, “If you love America, you should love Israel,” tying U.S. strategic alignment closely to religious conviction.

Hegseth’s end‑times vision doesn’t only shape policy—it sends a message: American power is sacred and global struggle is spiritual. Many have rightly warned that this frames conflicts as holy wars, elevating eschatological symbolism over diplomacy, pluralism, and international law .

As the U.S. contends with complex realities—Palestinian aspirations, Iranian ambitions, European alliances—views like Hegseth’s risk pushing policy toward sectarian posturing, militarized diplomacy, and disregard for multilateral frameworks.

Pete Hegseth’s theology sees geopolitics through an end-times lens—a cosmic struggle between Christian America (allied with Israel) and Islamism/Globalism. This worldview has steered his foreign policy toward aggressive unilateralism, deep alliance with Israel grounded in prophecy, and a posture that treats regional conflicts as battles in an unfolding divine drama.

That framing carries real-world consequences—escalating tensions, challenging alliances, and sidelining diplomacy—while raising urgent questions about the mixing of eschatological belief and statecraft.

It should be very concerning to Christian leaders everywhere that the first theological view is shaping our political perspectives of the Middle East right now. We should be raising our voices as peacemakers to call for a different, just, and merciful way instead.

Note: You can read more about this topic here.​

Also, it is important to note how the right is splintering over this issue. Read more on that here: The surprising right-wing push to keep us out of war.​
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