My freinds, With all that is happening in our country today, I just wanted to send you a quick note of encouragement. I hope it brings you clarity and hope. May the peace of Christ be with you today. “No king but Christ.”What does this phrase mean? The early church was not born in safety. It was forged in the shadows of empire, under the looming authority of Caesar. To declare that Jesus is Lord was not a sentimental affirmation. It was to reject the imperial propaganda etched on every Roman coin and chiseled into the marble of its temples: Caesar is lord. In the first century, loyalty to the emperor was considered both a civic and spiritual duty. To claim that a crucified Jewish carpenter from Nazareth had been raised from the dead and now reigned as king was not just a theological statement. It was political. It was dangerous. It was revolutionary. When Paul wrote in Philippians 2 that Jesus had been exalted and given “the name above every name,” he was echoing imperial language and turning it on its head. The Roman emperors claimed divine titles, demanded public allegiance, and persecuted any group that withheld it. Yet the early Christians refused to confess Caesar as kurios (lord). They gave that title exclusively to Christ. They were imprisoned, tortured, and killed not because they worshiped Jesus privately, but because they refused to separate their worship from their politics. For them, to say Christ is King was to say Caesar is not—and that had consequences. Today, the phrase Christ is King still carries power, but not always the kind that liberates. In recent years, it has been weaponized by political movements that twist the lordship of Christ into a banner for Christian nationalism, white supremacy, and authoritarian rule. Instead of challenging empire, it is used to sanctify it. Instead of subverting the wannabe Caesars of our time, it demands allegiance to them. Rather than following the Jesus who washed feet and died on a Roman cross, many now use His name to prop up leaders who crave power, punish dissent, and seek dominion rather than justice. This is a tragic reversal of the gospel’s heart. The early Christians did not die for the right to vote their values into law—they died because they would not worship the emperor and exclude the poor, the marginalized, and the stranger the way the empire did. They refused to let their loyalty to Christ and their neighbors to be co-opted by any earthly throne. When early church leaders like Ignatius and Polycarp were martyred, they bore witness not to Christian dominance, but to Christian resistance—the kind that believes a kingdom not of this world still breaks into it through compassion, humility, and courageous, nonviolent dissent. Jesus Himself warned His disciples about rulers who “lord it over” others, insisting instead that in His kingdom, “whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant” (Matthew 20:25–26). He entered Jerusalem not on a warhorse, but a donkey. He conquered not by the sword, but by the cross. And He reigns not from a palace, but from an empty tomb. This is not a king who seeks domination, but one who rules through love and justice. Because of this legacy, followers of Jesus must reclaim what it means to say Christ is King. It cannot mean unquestioned allegiance to any party, flag, or politician. It must mean the rejection of all idols that demand our worship in exchange for power. It must mean we oppose authoritarianism in every form—whether it wears a crown, waves a flag, or masquerades around claiming to be Christian. The church has always been at its best when it stands with the crucified, not the crucifiers. In the face of empire, the early Christians were known not for defending their privileges, but for caring for the poor, welcoming the stranger, and loving even their enemies. May we, too, have the courage to live as citizens of the kingdom of God—a kingdom where the last are first, the meek inherit the earth, and no Caesar gets our loyalty, only Christ. Christ is King. Which means no one else is. Let us live accordingly.
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I have spent the majority of my life in Evangelical Christian spaces. I have experienced a lot of church hurt. I now write to explore topics that often are at the intersection of politics and Christianity. My desire is to discover how we can move away from Christian nationalism, religious fundamentalism, and church hurt to reclaim the Gospel of Jesus together. I'm glad you're here to join the conversation. I look forward to talking with you.
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