@ashleysbored@credenzaclear2 tl;dr If "Christian" means becoming like Christ, then a movement oriented around national power appears fundamentally misaligned with the person it claims to follow.
Whatever the Kingdom of God looks like, it looks like Jesus. Nation-states do not look like Jesus to me. When I see “Christian” nationalism, examples like these flood my mind:
The temptation in the wilderness (Matthew 4:8–10; Luke 4:5–8). The devil offers Jesus “all the kingdoms of the world and their glory” if he will worship him. Jesus refuses. Political dominion over earthly kingdoms is explicitly presented as a satanic offer.
“My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:33–37). In the exchange with Pilate, the Greek phrase ouk estin ek tou kosmou toutou does not use “of” in the sense of location but rather of origin or source. Jesus’s point isn’t that his kingdom is otherworldly real estate; it’s that it doesn’t derive its power from worldly means. That’s why he immediately adds, “If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would fight.” Jesus renounces coercive force.
The render-unto-Caesar episode (Mark 12:13–17; Matthew 22:15–22; Luke 20:20–26). The denarius bore the idolatrous inscription “Tiberius Caesar, son of the divine Augustus.” Jews were incensed that ordinary commerce forced them to handle objects proclaiming a rival lord’s divinity and their own subjugation. His opponents try to trap him with a loaded question: Is it lawful to pay the tax to Caesar? Jesus calls for a coin and asks whose image (eikōn) is on it. They reply that it's Caesar’s. He says, “Render to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.” The answer turns on the image. The Greek word eikōn is the same one Genesis uses for humanity, created in the “image” of God. A person is stamped with God’s likeness the way the coin is stamped with Caesar’s. What bears God’s image—and is therefore owed wholly to God—is not the coin but the one holding it. The coin belongs to Caesar, so give him back his trinkets. Jesus refuses to make the kingdom of God a matter of tax policy or political allegiance.
The refusal to be made king (John 6:15). After the feeding of the five thousand, the crowd intends “to come and take him by force to make him king,” and Jesus withdraws alone to the mountain. This is a direct, narrated rejection of a path to earthly rule.
The request for the sword / “those who take the sword” (Matthew 26:51–54; John 18:10–11; Luke 22:49–51). At the arrest, a disciple draws a sword and strikes; Jesus rebukes him, heals the wounded man, and says he could call down legions of angels but won’t. The kingdom that could deploy overwhelming force deliberately chooses not to. Non-coercion is once again the defining feature.
The Zebedee request / “the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them” (Mark 10:35–45; Matthew 20:20–28). James and John ask for thrones at his right and left. Jesus contrasts his kingdom explicitly with Gentile political power: rulers “lord it over” and “exercise authority,” but “it shall not be so among you.” Greatness is service, and “the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve.” Sacrificial love is the implementing mechanism of his kingdom, stated explicitly by Jesus in direct contrast to how earthly power operates.
The triumphal entry on a donkey (Matthew 21:1–11; John 12:12–16). Jesus deliberately fulfills Zechariah 9:9—the king comes “humble, mounted on a donkey,” a beast of peace rather than the warhorse of a conquering general. This is intentional political theater that inverts the expected image of a liberating military messiah.
“The kingdom of God is in your midst / within you” (Luke 17:20–21). When asked when the kingdom would come, Jesus says it does not come “with observation” (that is, not as an observable political event you could point to). It is already present—in their midst, in the person standing in front of them—not a regime to be inaugurated on a calendar.
The Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3–10). They invert the entire value system of worldly power: the meek, the poor, and the persecuted inherit the earth, not the strong. Jesus's woes against the Pharisees target religious leaders who fuse piety with social dominance.
If you made it to the end, this is why I deeply respect Jesus and anyone who chooses to follow him. It is also why I do not call myself a Christian. The cost is very high, and I won't pretend that I aim to follow his example most days. But I believe the world would be better for it if we all did.
@liquidprismata Makes sense. One of the main reasons I ignore her is because of the self-selection bias in her stat work. I assume the findings loosely represent her audience and I don’t care about their norms.
@liquidprismata I don’t think she’s an idiot. Responses could just be Machiavellian. Could be autistic-ish if you grant her hyper-literal read. I wouldn’t follow either way.
@pipuffin I think of my experience of the present moment as the first instantiation of a memory since what much of it represents is already in the recent past