These last several weeks have been difficult to comprehend and to process. Our hearts are broken daily, not by a bad headline or drummed-up partisan talking points, but by personal accounts and live video footage of unlawful, dehumanizing, and violent activity being conducted by “law enforcement” itself. Our local police departments decry the aggression of the federal personnel in their own jurisdiction, and chaos abounds. The world feels upside down, and folks in many parts of the city feel as if we are under occupation from a foreign power that does not seek our good nor that of our neighbors whom we love.

Friends of mine who have committed no crime are locking their doors this evening and keeping their kiddos inside, asking for prayer for protection from state-sponsored violence. Why are they being targeted? One would have to ask the federal government, but ostensibly, it’s because some folks who look like them have committed some crimes. The targeting is saddening but not surprising. Governments often expose their insecurities by seeking the next “enemy” to identify and then eliminate. The surprising (and deeply disappointing) part is how many self-described Christians are supportive of the racial targeting—and even the violence.

“But it’s not about race! It’s about crime and fraud!” If that is the case, then the traditional route is to prosecute the criminals. However, when any particular group is subjected to house-to-house visits or stopped as they drive home from work, simply for some intrinsic quality identified in some criminals, this is nothing short of racial profiling and group punishment. It is a classic example of a state seeking a scapegoat to punish in an effort to alleviate its own insecurities. One could only imagine the outrage if authorities started showing up at people’s homes who look like me—a person of Scandinavian origin. The vast majority of school shooters and the last several major political assassinations were made by young men who look like they could be my near-blood relations. So, if we are being consistent, why have the authorities not visited me at my front door?

I’m afraid we know the answer. There seems to be an unexamined assumption that folks of European descent are to be treated individually, while “those people” should be subjected to group identification, with the criminal taken as the representative of the entire group. The allure of the human urge to scapegoat is that it works! It has a cathartic effect on the group that performs the violence. So, I suppose we can all just forget about Jesus since we’ve found a better way—good old-fashioned tribalism. We will just segregate ourselves from “those people,” and we will all be OK in our fragile little insular corners.

Of course, we don’t allow ourselves to think soberly about the fact that we are collectively committing this scapegoat expulsion. We swallow the party line from the State like it’s a feeding tube. To admit the wrongdoing of the State is to admit our collective wrongdoing in giving wicked men power in this democratic republic. That’s too much to bear for many of us, so instead, we spin like we’re Ilya Malinin—justifying every unjust act of our beloved Big Brother, no matter how convoluted our explanations become. 

An odd phenomenon has caught my attention recently–when I publicly critique or denounce State violence, Romans 13 comes flying off the shelf faster than you can say “justice for Renee Good and Alex Pretti.” It’s ironic, because Romans 13 was nowhere to be found on our lips when we evangelicals didn’t like mandated vaccinations just a few short years ago (perhaps for fine reasons). I recall our Facebook posts quoting Scriptures of a quite different flavor: “we must obey God rather than man” (Acts 5:29). Now, “be subject to the governing authorities” is being used as a battering ram to silence any disagreement and condemn civil disobedience of any kind. I have a profound sense of bewilderment, having grown up in an evangelical world where the Jew-hiders in the Third Reich were held up as heroes (and they were!). Now, when I advocate for the scapegoated group of our time, I am told by my dear friends that I am being immature, if not rebellious. “Be subject to the authorities” has conveniently become, “agree with and be allegiant to the State.”

In many ways, we live in Orwell’s world, witnessing the subtle shifting of the meaning of words for propagandistic purposes. Genocide is redefined as war, war redefined as defense, piracy as police action, and execution as neutralization. Protesters are dubbed domestic terrorists. The forced deposition of world leaders is aggression when other countries do it and national security when we do. In my town, our Somali friends are described as garbage by POTUS because of the crimes of some, and the entirety of the group is intentionally slandered as being suspect or dangerous.

The powers of the world see themselves as sovereign, and language is simply a tool for the advancement of State interests. This totalizing impulse to subject all things to the legitimization of the Empire is neither new nor unique to our government. But I think it is incumbent on Jesus-worshippers to heed Alexandr Solzhenitsyn’s admonition to “live not by lies,” resisting the lie that national identity and empire supremacy demand we perpetuate. To speak forthrightly—justifying, defending, or otherwise doing apologetics for State violence is living by lies.

I’ve found it puzzling to see a number of my self-described Christian loved ones acting as faithful foot soldiers of the State whose violence harms the very image bearers our Lord taught us to love. When “our people” get power, Romans 13 enters stage right, and we nod along like docile sheep, carrying a disposition, not of the prophets, but of yes-men. We Evangelicals tend to think of the Empire as friend when “our guy” wins and enemy when he doesn’t. However, I would contend that the Biblical authors had a quite different view of the State altogether.

In Deuteronomy 32:8-9, the nations were given over to the control of the “gods” (what modern Christians may call “demons”). In Daniel 10:13, this understanding persists. In the gospels, we see the Adversary offering Jesus the kingdoms of the world, implying they were under its control (Luke 4:5-7). Paul is comfortable listing spiritual and governmental powers together as related realities (Ephesians 6:12; Colossians 2:15). The author of Revelation explicitly leans into this—depicting the Roman empire as indistinguishable from the Adversary itself (Revelation 13:1-7). The point is, according to the Christian tradition, the State is not really our friend, and it may well be under the control of dark spiritual forces. It can do good in restraining evil at times, but it often itself commits grave evil, and it does not advance God’s kingdom.

As followers of Jesus, we have no other and no higher obligation than to be the body of Christ on earth. We have no obligation to prop up the oppressive power structures we’ve inherited. We have an obligation only to pray for all those with authority, to do good to all, to love our neighbors, and to love even our national enemies. The State cannot accept that last one. When the State identifies an enemy and then scapegoats it in an attempt to form allegiance through fear, we have an obligation to tell the truth. The community of Jesus will always, at the end of the day, be viewed as the enemy of the State, since we give allegiance to a different King with different ethics and a different vision for the future of the world. 

So, though we do not seek the violent overthrow of our government or any other, we certainly don’t always obey it. When it commands we disobey our Lord, we firmly yet meekly say “no,” and we carry on as usual—loving the neighbor that the State is trying to harm. Right now in my town, the worldly powers seek the dehumanization of Muslims, refugees, leftists and others. We say “no” because our Lord called us to seek the good of these folks. We adamantly do no violence in our resistance, because that is to live by the same lie that the State believes—that life must be built in death. On the contrary, we bear the consequences of our resistance in our own bodies if need be.

I am left contemplating the confession of Martin Niemöller, swapping out the scapegoated groups of 1930s Germany for some of those in our moment:

“First they came for the undocumented immigrant
And I did not speak out
Because I was not an undocumented immigrant

Then they came for the Muslim
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Muslim

Then they came for the refugee
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a refugee 

Then they came for the leftists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a leftist

Then they came for me
And there was no one left
To speak out for me” 

We are not the church in 1942 Germany, but we may be daydreaming listlessly into our own hell. Auschwitz wasn’t built overnight; it was allowed in the ‘30s by one ordinary day after another of submitting to the propaganda that selected, then scapegoated, then genocided entire groups of God’s children.

As restored people, we showcase the world to come. Until that Day, our relationship to the State will never be that of fan, friend, or fidelity. It will always be one of nonviolent, peacemaking resistance to its worst impulses, and prayer for its leaders to repent—showing the way to a peace not found in the State but in the body of Christ. According to the Scriptures, the totalizing State has no future in God’s world, and therefore it can provide us no identity. If the State provides us no identity, we do not need to defend its violence. The meek inherit the earth—not the violent—and certainly not the State.

For a record number of Americans in this ever more secular era, their real religion is politics, their faith is their political ideology, and their church is their political party. This seems especially so in the most secular professions like entertainment where an unprecedented number of actors, singers, writers, comics, and athletes now routinely use their fame to push their political agendas.

Way back in 1972, Americans were shocked when, during the Vietnam War, the actress Jane Fonda went to North Vietnam to propagandize for our communist enemy. Similarly, people were stunned in 1973 when Marlon Brando refused to accept his Godfather Oscar because of Hollywood’s portrayal of American Indians. But when was the last time you saw an awards show without many performers interjecting their political views, and often with the ugliest obscenities?

No wonder ever more Americans refuse to “separate the artist from the man,” choosing instead to boycott entertainers who use their bullhorn to promote public policies they dislike. In fact, the ratings for awards shows has plummeted in recent years, and Hollywood has long been in a terrible financial slump.

As a libertarian, I totally support everyone’s God-given, constitutionally-protected right to express whatever opinions you please. Furthermore, if you are not free to say what I least want to hear, then you are not really free.

But I enjoy an equal right to avoid movies, TV shows, novels, records, games, and other works of performers who use their platform to push grossly irresponsible government actions, dangerous drug use, public profanity and coarseness, promiscuity, and out-of-wedlock births, all of which have wreaked substantial damage on our culture. Why should I subsidize folks assaulting the religious values, norms, and way of life I cherish?

However, as a Christian libertarian southerner, if I let artists or athletes’ pronouncements or decadent lifestyles dictate whose performances I patronize, I would likely see very little art or entertainment — and my life would be significantly poorer.

One of my favorite novelists, Harry Crews, wrote that “What the artist owes the world is his work, not a model for living.” Basketball superstar Charles Barkley bluntly declared, “I’m not paid to be a role model…. Parents should be role models.”

Yes, I think Pablo Picasso was an egregious egomaniac and a complete narcissist who abused a slew of women, wrecked many lives (especially his family’s), and was a communist to boot (even during Stalin’s reign!). But I also believe he was the greatest artist of the 20th century, and I appreciate a lot of his paintings. To let what I judge to be his private and political wrongs prevent me from enjoying his public work would be my loss.

My favorite filmmaker is Woody Allen. Not only are we politically far apart, but I cannot condone his dating an ex-girlfriend’s daughter who was 21 when he was 56. But he committed no crime and they have remained a couple since 1991 and reared children together. Is Allen’s off-camera life any of my business anyway? Plus, I adore his movies. Indeed, how many fewer laughs my film-going life would have suffered without seeing them.

I don’t like the politics, alcoholism, or sordid private lives of F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, and John Steinbeck. But their writings are magnificent, and how all the more impressive that they transformed painful personal strife into compelling literature that still inspires.

Try finding a major writer, composer, or artist whose biography has no appalling chapters. The only ones I know are Johann Sebastian Bach, Emily Dickinson, and Eudora Welty.

If I need surgery, I want the best surgeon. While I would ideally prefer a strait-laced, good Christian or Jew, I still want the finest doctor for the operation — even if he’s an atheist communist and serial adulterer. Some of the most obnoxious students I ever taught nevertheless got A’s in my classes — because their work earned them.

Should it matter if a performer might not qualify to join our own political or private club?

With the exception of Jesus Christ, who is without sin or living in a glass house?

So should we still buy art we like provided it is not distasteful propaganda? Or so long as the artist is not too aggressively inflicting obnoxious views or misbehavior in public?

I remain ambivalent. While I generally do not mind seeing a film on TV starring someone whose politics or personal life I deplore, I am less inclined to pay for one at a cinema. I’ll purchase a singer’s records I like but avoid his concerts if I learn he insults my beliefs between songs. Nor will I buy a ticket to any benefit show whose proceeds further a cause I oppose.

Frankly, I would just rather not know the politics or lifestyles of entertainers. But I do know that this political science professor emeritus will be politically influenced by what some ill-informed, narcissistic, virtue-signaling actor, singer, or athlete says about politics when he cares what I say about acting, singing, or sports. Indeed, when playing with balls confers moral or intellectual authority, I’ll consult the neighbor’s dog.

Democracy creates an avenue for politicians to access your pocketbook and liberty. It offers everyone who desires to get at your money or to regulate you a legal avenue to do so. Hereditary kingship eliminates the potential for these sorts to gain power over you; instead, the leeches and busybodies must produce for themselves. Removing the crown enabled those who craved dominion over you to achieve it.

The desire to control others often stems from a dislike or hatred for them. When you love something, you allow it freedom; you might attempt to guide, but you ultimately want the object of your love to make a choice. When you hate something, you wish to eradicate it, or at least control it, minimize it and mold it to your image. Democracy invites those who hate us to rule us.

The typical Christian libertarian does not want to be involved with the moral degradation and corruption of politics. They want to be far from a place like D.C., much less live or work there. Most libertarians desire only to live and let live. They lack the desire to control others’ money or boss them around. So, naturally, most of them will never run for office, and those lacking the drive for power and control will not succeed in elections as often as those who have it.

In competitive elections (the higher the level, such as federal, the more competitive), only those who are the most eager, who desire power the most, will be victorious. Those willing to lie, cheat and steal will have the advantage over a more moral candidate; elections attract and install the wrong people to govern. History demonstrates in democracy the moral candidates are removed from power, and the worst characters rise to the top.

The established national political parties and their major backers support candidates they can use. They need candidates willing to obey and to do whatever it takes to gain access to the money and power available in and through D.C. After the victory, the politician must repay his donors through legislation. He must repay his backers and support the national party agenda to maintain his standing. Likewise, the secular politician is after his own gain; he is rarely a local representative at the national level. This helps explain the disconnect between what politicians tell their voters before the election and their actions after gaining office.

To win a competitive national election, politicians must bribe, be bribed, conform to donors’ desires, and tell voters what they want to hear rather than the truth. Journalist H. L. Mencken summarized election oratory as “the art of…one who preaches doctrines he knows to be untrue to men he knows to be idiots.”

A moral  and honorable Christian candidate refrains from lying or telling voters what they crave to hear; therefore, such candidates will upset sections of the country, lack excitement among the base, and be at a disadvantage. They will be principled, “rigid,” “uncompromising,” and unwilling to work with the system, further impeding their success. They will tend to be honest, tell the truth, run on principles, and act on their beliefs. Political parties weed out such candidates often before they even attempt to run for national office.

Professor Hans-Hermann Hoppe argues political competition ensures the worst will rise to the top. The more competitive the more corrupt one needs to be to succeed. So the town-level local politicians will generally be more honest and unwilling to bribe their way to the top. But at the federal level, due to the greater competition, they must battle competitors and do favors necessary to achieve power. It would be nearly impossible for a politician to tell voters the truth and reach a federal seat.

Hoppe argues competitive elections will “lead to the cultivation and perfection of the peculiar skills of demagoguery, deception, lying, opportunism, corruption, and bribery. Therefore, entrance into and success within government will become increasingly impossible for anyone hampered by moral scruples against lying and stealing.” And again Hoppe wrote, “Thus democracy virtually assures only bad and dangerous men will ever rise to the top of government.” Elections necessitate moral decay among politicians, which will follow all competitive elections. Historian Christophe Buffin de Chosal wrote:

“The qualities necessary to ascend to power through democratic vote are precisely what make for defective leaders. To rise to the head of a political party and win elections at the national level, one must pander to the voters and tell them not what is, but what they want to hear. One must bow down to particular interests, especially to those of the money powers. One must not let any scruples get in the way; one must be about superficial externals rather than about substance; one must also be devoted to one’s party.”[1]

 In a democracy, secularists and relativists are heavily favored; they are fighting on their home turf, as philosopher Erik von Kuehnelt-Leddihn explained:

“The true Christian as a candidate in a thoroughly democratic state is almost unthinkable; only in rare cases will he succeed in maintaining his position…The Christian candidate would be sincere, frank, serious. He would confess ignorance where need be, he would oppose his constituents when his conscience advocated disagreement, he would refuse to distort facts by popularizing them or by “boiling them down” to a deceptive simplicity, thus flattering the intellectual vanity of the credulous masses. The bad pagan simply lies to his voters…He pretends to understand problems he is not acquainted with, and simulates knowledge; he is determined not to stick to his promises or even to act against his conscience. The good pagan is in the worst situation of all: he lies, quite subconsciously, to himself. He believes, perhaps in all sincerity, that one can square the circle…The good Christian’s position is an almost hopeless one, since he is not willing to sacrifice ethical values to the Moloch of popularity.”

People don’t like hearing the truth; they enjoy living in a world of their own making. Jesus would never be elected in a democracy because he constantly told the truth. He purposely drove away people following him for his miracles, or for what he might do for them. Truth was more important than popularity.

While politicians portray themselves as experts in multiple areas, the only thing they really do well is sell an image voters desire. For success, they only need to be experts in manipulation, knowing the right people and lying. Mencken wrote, “Will any of them venture to tell the plain truth…will any refrain from promises that he knows he can’t fulfill…they will promise every man, woman and child in the country whatever he, or she wants…votes are collared under democracy not by talking sense but by talking nonsense…the winner will be whoever promises the most with the least probability of delivering anything.” Elections are advertisements where politicians create an image they think will be successful in achieving votes.

Politicians hire campaign advisors to determine what is best to say in each area. They will categorize us into herds and discover this number of “suburban women” live here, so say this, but when you are over there where there are plenty of evangelicals, don’t say this, this here is an industrial town, so preach on this. Then, after the election, you will hear both parties “congratulate” the victors for “running a good campaign,” in other words, great job manipulating people and saying the right things in a suitable place to achieve votes.

Undomesticated people like those in the Middle Ages would never submit to a corrupt system of elected officials campaigning for power. They would rid us of the whole system, and you would see the return of a king.

[1] (Buffin de Chosal 2017, 132-133)

Series Introduction

Not everyone is born a libertarian, and even those who were must come to it on their own terms. We believe in the importance of hearing the stories of others, including what they wrestled with, what they rejected, what they embraced, and how their journey led them to where they are today. We know these stories are important to share, not because each of us is a hero, but because heroism is found in all efforts of any size to pursue a Christian ethos and embrace a way of life that enables and encourages flourishing. We offer you these stories as an encouragement and inspiration to help you bolster your faith in the Lord and your belief in human freedom.

Listen to this essay:

I’m an independent researcher and writer, an education entrepreneur, and co-host of the Reformed Libertarians Podcast. I’m Principal Educator and socratic guide at Vita Nova Academy Of Albuquerque, a learner-driven mastery-based microschool. My writing, podcasts, and seminars at MereLiberty.com focus on challenging prevailing paradigms in politics, theology, and culture, from a confessionally-Reformed biblical and philosophical perspective. Among others, I address such topics as abortion and views of womanhood. Additionally, one of my primary interests is in promoting a Reformed view of libertarian anarchism.”

I was born and raised in Albuquerque, New Mexico in a politically and theologically conservative home. I was baptized, catechized, and confirmed in faith at a local Missouri Synod Lutheran (LCMS) church. My mother, raised Irish Catholic (the only person I’ve known with a BA in Home Economics) was never interested in politics. But my father^[1] was. And his views shaped mine as I grew up.

He was a Green Beret, Vietnam veteran, working for the Federal Department of Energy by the time I was born. He was more or less a constitutionalist (as he understood it) and registered Republican. His major influences, as I recall, were Ronald Reagan, Barry Goldwater, and to a lesser extent Pat Buchanan and Ross Perot. I was enamored with my father’s sense of patriotism, duty to uphold the Constitution and America’s founding principles, and distrust of the government. Among other things, he impressed on me the importance of not working for (or depending upon) the government, insofar as it was possible.

In my experience, Lutherans don’t often have any sort of robust political theology. This may be because their view of God’s “two kingdoms” (in conscience and external matters, respectively) tends to separate politics from spiritual concerns. In any case, my parents were actively involved in both the fledgling homeschooling movement and prolife activism. One of my dad’s religious influences at the time was Francis Schaeffer^[2], a Presbyterian minister who promoted the prolife cause among conservative Protestants. My three brothers and I were homeschooled in our younger years, before it was legal in New Mexico. We spent many field trips at the State legislature as my and several other parents worked to legalize it. Although, in later years, I attended both Lutheran and government schools.

I distinctly recall attending a number of prolife events with my parents and brothers. What I took away from those experiences at the time were the religious and emotional appeals of the movement. The emotional appeal being the graphic nature of abortion. The main idea was that the hearts and minds of those who supported abortion would be changed if they were adequately exposed to the horrific reality of what abortion actually is. The religious appeal, at least among so-called Evangelicals, seemed to be that Scripture alone is sufficient and effective to argue against abortion. I later came to the conclusion that, while both appeals have a certain degree of merit, they are ultimately naively reductionistic and therefore insufficient and ineffective in changing the social, political, and economic facts and beliefs that contribute to the legality and practice of abortion.

In 1996 I followed the Clinton v Dole US presidential election, in which so-called “partial birth” abortion was specifically at issue. I turned eighteen in 1999 just in time to vote in the Bush v Gore election. Not yet recognizing the political theater that such elections are, I became engrossed in cable “news” about the drama.

Meanwhile, I was enrolled at the University of New Mexico (UNM) in the Fall of 1999. I intended to double major in Medical Lab Science and Political Science because of my support for the prolife cause.

I was strengthened in my understanding that contemporary legal arguments for abortion had no basis in biology, the Constitution, or human rights. And I came to recognize how such arguments were erroneous attempts to separate personhood and rights from being human.

While attending UNM, I was exposed to Evangelical (Non-denominational) Baptist beliefs and worship through the Baptist Student Union. Some classmates there tried to persuade me that I wasn’t actually a Christian if I didn’t have a conscious conversion experience and hadn’t been baptized as a professing believer. I was deeply shaken by this, and sought out my Lutheran pastor to assuage my anxieties about whether I was saved. My Lutheran pastor did a good job of doing that. And that’s all I wanted for the moment. He also gave me several introductory pamphlets that contrasted Lutheran and typical non-denominational beliefs on baptism and eschatology.  It wasn’t long before I had more questions. Regrettably, my questions weren’t really answered. My pastor was still seeking merely to emotionally reassure me. Not finding the more theologically substantial answers I was then seeking, I eventually became discontent with the LCMS altogether.

Over the next year or so, I tried to work full time while fitting-in college courses when I could, without much success. Motivated partly by a misplaced sense of patriotic duty following the 9/11 terrorist attacks in 2001, and partly by the prospect of medical lab education and job experience, I enlisted in the US Air Force in the Spring of 2003. I also got married that winter. By 2005 I was pregnant, and accepted the offer of an honorable discharge. I took that option at eight months pregnant and came home to NM.

While I was pregnant the baptism question came up again. This time, I wanted a more thorough understanding of what Scripture actually teaches. I wanted to be more confident in what I believed. Either I would baptize my infant son in the Lutheran church, or I would become Baptist; raising my children as Baptists. However, mostly through exposure to the teaching of the Presbyterian minister R.C. Sproul^[3], the next two years of study would unexpectedly lead me to the Reformed (Presbyterian) perspective.

By the time I came to the Reformed view of baptism, I had already given birth to my first two children, born about a year apart. And I had them baptized in the LCMS in 2007. We were attending a non-denominational church at the time. That church was largely opposed to the Reformed Faith, and I didn’t yet know of any Reformed or Presbyterian churches in the area to join.

2007 was also the time running up to the 2008 housing crash. The GOP primary was in full swing and, still a registered Republican, I had the first opportunity to vote in the presidential primary. But there were 13 candidates at one point, and I had no idea how to choose from among them. Knowing what I did about the Constitution, I reviewed its statements about the role of the Executive. As I watched debates, heard candidates speak, and read their campaign platforms, I realized that among them all, only Ron Paul^[4] paid any attention to the Constitution.

Listening to videos by former Libertarian Party presidential candidate, Michael Badnarik, I learned more about the Constitution and Bill of Rights. I read Badnarik’s book, Good to be King^[5]. He explained that property tax was renting from the state property you owned, and that a driver’s license was a grant of permission to use your own car. This perspective was paradigm-shifting for me. I decided to vote for Ron Paul, but ultimately couldn’t. He dropped out before the primaries reached New Mexico^[6]. Instead, I voted for Chuck Baldwin (no relation) of the Constitution Party^[7]. I voted once more for President in 2012, for Gary Johnson of the Libertarian Party. I haven’t voted for a presidential candidate since, though I will still vote on referendums.

In the following four years, I experienced two parallel journeys: one towards full-fledged libertarianism, and the other towards full-fledged Reformed theology. In 2012, we left the non-denominational church we had been attending. After considering several supposed Presbyterian congregations, we began attending a small Orthodox Presbyterian church (OPC)^[8]. That year I started mereliberty.com with the goal of challenging the false paradigm of left vs right, and of promoting a libertarian perspective.

The housing crash and bailouts in 2008, the so-called “Affordable Care Act” in 2010, Ron Paul’s second run for president in 2012, and all the GOP shenanigans increasingly disillusioned and radicalized me. I was primed for anarchism, but couldn’t yet make that leap, mostly because of my misunderstanding Romans 13 and not seeing how non-monopolistic, polycentric law was supposed to work. It’s said that it takes only six months to become anarchist once you accept libertarianism. From 2008, it took me 8 more years. In the meantime, I was active locally in municipal politics. But, I was ultimately disillusioned^[9] when I realized the city is also run by unelected people, namely, the City Manager and City Attorney.

In 2014, my family and I officially became members of the OPC. And by 2015, I completed my Bachelor’s of Arts in Philosophy from Arizona State University.

During these same years I came to realize (belatedly, as is all too common among those who are abused) that my husband was abusive towards me and our children, verbally, emotionally, and financially. He never took responsibility or expressed remorse for his mistreatment and fits of rage. When confronted by our pastor, he refused to listen. The elders of our church supported my decision to divorce in 2016.

Later that year, in a Reformed libertarian online discussion group, a friend had asked what my remaining objections were to libertarian anarchism. Before the year was over, I had been introduced to the writings of economists Ludwig Von Mises and Murray Rothbard. Especially Rothbard’s anarchist political philosophy^[10] and a better understanding of the confessionally Reformed view of Romans 13^[11] resolved my objections. In many ways, my parallel developments in theological and political understanding dovetailed, and I became a convinced Reformed (libertarian) anarchist.

My understanding of our God-given self-ownership, property rights, and corresponding obligation of non-aggression, resulted in the consistent conclusion that monopoly states are inherent aggressors and so, illegitimate. I began to understand more clearly how non-monopolistic civil governance is both prescriptively ordained by God, and a realistic possibility, even —or especially— in sinful human society. (At the end of this essay, along with several other resources, is a playlist of episodes addressing our answers to minarchist objections.^[12] It explains some of the key points that persuaded me of libertarian anarchism.)

It wasn’t until I became aware of Jeff Durbin^[13] (a Baptist pastor) and the Abortion “Abolition” movement sometime in 2016, that I would take up the prolife defense again. I published a libertarian critique of prominent prolife and prochoice views.^[14] On the prolife side I pointed out that the lack of economic understanding contributed to addressing abortion in an overly-narrow and reductionistic way. On the prochoice side,^[15] I pointed out that the broader leftist appeal to protecting marginalized groups was fundamentally undermined by their own arguments favoring abortion. 

In 2019 I published a two part episode attempting to articulate fetal rights in terms of self-ownership. In December 2019, I was invited to debate Walter Block^[16] on his “evictionist” position at the Soho Forum. In 2020, most states around the world began implementing lockdowns and other disastrous measures in response to COVID.

The policies of the New Mexican governor were especially tyrannical in prohibiting gatherings, and mandating business closures, masking, and pushing vaccinations. When she could no longer keep people away from church, she mandated worshippers not to sing or take the Lord’s Supper. She would make frequent public addresses that were fear-mongering and threatening. The parallels between abusive personal relationships and the inherent tyranny of the state became more apparent than ever. Not only do states depend on aggression, but also mass psychological manipulation and financial control to perpetuate their abuse.

That same year, I began collaborating with my co-host, Gregory Baus, on developing the Reformed Libertarians Podcast. Recognizing the tremendous need, we committed ourselves to promoting an understanding of libertarian anarchism grounded in a distinctively Reformed faith and worldview. And by late 2022, we began publishing episodes with the Christians For Liberty Network through the Libertarian Christian Institute.^[17]

Since 2020, a lot of libertarians I’ve known online abandoned libertarianism entirely. The lockdowns and other leftist policies in government and its crony institutions were enough for them to oppose non-aggression as a practical principle. They went full “post-libertarian” and began promoting a statist strategy on behalf of supposed traditional values. They believe their re-embrace of violence and authoritarianism is “putting away (the) childish things” of libertarian principles. If anything, such post-libertarians only reveal that they themselves held to certain ideas childishly.

However, I remain fully convinced of what we at Reformed Libertarians call the Boetie Option. As we explain in episode 8,^[18] The Boetie Option is a strategy of the peaceful “underthrow” of the state. It’s an active strategy of educating a critical mass of the population, towards withdrawal of compliance with the state’s tyranny. A critical mass need not be a majority; it is the smallest number required to sustain a chain reaction.

It may be that the promulgation and wide-spread embrace of Christianity is requisite to achieving a more just and free society. But that will only be hindered, and cannot be helped, by the use of aggression. In any case, I am devoted to the propagation of the confessionally Reformed Faith and church, because I’m convinced it is the most faithful expression of biblical Christianity.^[19] I also believe Reformed Christianity provides the truest and most robust grounds for understanding all of human life as God has revealed it to be, whether political normativity, or how we should oppose abuse in other societal spheres. I pray that others will join us, as we promote these things through the Reformed Libertarians Podcast.

“See the written version of this essay at libertarianchristians dot com for endnotes with links to further resources. This has been a reading of “From Lutheran Republican to Reformed Libertarian” by Kerry Baldwin.”

^[1] Kerry Baldwin, “A First Person Perspective of the First Battle of Loc Ninh, Vietnam,” episode 38 of Dare to Think | Mere Liberty Podcast

^[2] In A Christian Manifesto, Schaeffer highlights Samuel Rutherford’s book Lex, Rex and the Reformed “political resistance” view shown in this bibliography 

^[3] For example, see Sproul’s booklet What Is Baptism? Another helpful resource is Lee Irons’ And The God Of Thy Seed in 8 parts on infant baptism and covenant nurture.

^[4] See the Ron Paul Institute here

^[5] Good To Be King, by Michael Badnarik

^[6] Kerry Baldwin, “DTTNM – Ep 39 What’s Going on in New Mexico?,” episode 39 of Dare to Think | Mere Liberty Podcast

^[7] The Constitution Party

^[8] The Orthodox Presbyterian Church | See other NAPARC (confessionally Reformed) denominations here 

^[9] Kerry Baldwin, “The Reason You Hate Politics,” Libertarian Christian Institute, January 12, 2021

^[10] See Rothbard’s For A New Liberty and The Ethics Of Liberty, among other helpful books, here

^[11] See Reformed Libertarians Podcast episode 2 on Romans 13

^[12] Answers To Minarchist Objections playlist

^[13] Kerry Baldwin, “Abortion Laws: How the Prolife Movement Is Aborting a Prolife Era,” Dare to Think Podcast

^[14] See my website articles on abortion and info on my SOHO Forum debate

^[15] Kerry Baldwin, “Evaluating The Christian Feminist View Of Abortion,” Dare to Think Podcast

^[16] Kerry Baldwin, “Kerry Baldwin and Walter Block Debate Abortion (2026),” Mere Liberty, n.d.

^[17] The Reformed Libertarians Podcast

^[18] Episode 8 on The Boetie Option

^[19] For an introduction to the Reformed Faith, see The Westminster Standards (statements of faith), Putting Amazing Back Into Grace, by Michael Horton https://www.amazon.com/dp/0801014212, and Sacred Bond, by Brown and Keele

When you’re a libertarian Christian, you keep a number of Scriptures on your theological Rolodex. We love to talk about 1 Samuel 8, where Israel asks God for a king and He responds by chastising them for their lack of faithfulness. Revelation and Daniel have lots of great passages about Jesus coming to destroy all empires at the end of the age that serve to salve the longsuffering libertarian. Acts 5:29 is short and sweet–it’s better to obey God rather than men. I probably quote Luke 4:6-7 the most. That’s the one where Satan offers Jesus the kingdoms of the world on the basis that Satan is actually the one who directs the rulers of nations.

But we also have passages we get tired of responding to–render unto Caesar, be subject to the governing authorities. But the Bible verse that seems best poised to take down libertarianism is all the more anxiety-inducing because its author isn’t content to say it only once–he has to repeat it three more times! You may have already guessed it: “in those days there was no king in Israel; everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (Judges 17:6, NASB; but repeated in whole or in part in 18:1, 19:1, and 21:25).

Why is this one so dangerous? Because a cursory reading seems to suggest that the reason Israel was in such a bad way was not just because they didn’t have a state, but because they had a decentralized approach to governance. Now that’s really rubbing salt in the wound.

How can a libertarian deal with such a thorny verse? One might say, as David Beldman did in his book Deserting the King, that the missing king in Israel at that time was actually God. Thus, far from being a monarchist, the author of Judges was really advocating what we might today call a “no king but Christ” approach. But while this response is tempting, it seems a little too convenient, even a tad contrived. The period of the Judges was a period without a central monarch, so this is more than likely what the book’s author had in mind. In addition, it would be inaccurate to say that God was not Israel’s king at this time. He was still Israel’s King, even if His people didn’t honor Him as they should.

Finding a more plausible answer requires us to take a step back and take in the larger narrative Scripture is telling of Israel’s early history. 1 Samuel 8 tells us that the period of the Judges ended with Israel insisting on a king and God warning them that in their rejection of Him as their true Monarch, they would have to contend with all of the indignities, confiscations, and warmaking that centralized government brings about. If having a king is so bad, then why did the author of Judges seem to suggest that all of Israel’s problems in that period came from a lack of centralized authority?

If we step back a little more yet and look further down Israel’s timeline, we discover a problematic historical fact about kingship in Israel once it gets established–a good king makes the whole country better, but a bad king makes everyone behave at their worst. David and Hezekiah might have brought about some short-lived spiritual golden ages, but there were far more evil and idolatrous kings than good ones–and evil flourished all over the country under their reigns. The pattern skewed so strongly toward wicked kings making wicked people that it was actually during the period of the kings when God sent Judah and Israel into exile–not during the Judges.

But decentralization carries with it a different challenge–without a good or evil king to force his will on everyone, each community, each family, and each individual must pursue the good as they see it. Instead of everyone being good or everyone being bad, something much more complicated emerges.

The claim of 1 Samuel 8 is that the people actually could have been righteous without a king. Decentralized authority does not automatically mean moral lawlessness. But this would require something of them that they weren’t willing to do–bow down to God as King. They would listen to a human king, whether it meant following him into holiness or even the pit of sin and debauchery, but they would not give their allegiance to God. This is both the promise and the peril of centralized human government, and Scripture tells us that it’s far more peril than promise.

But here’s where Beldman is unquestionably right–far from urging us to create a powerful central government, the book of Judges tells us one part of a larger story that we must understand if we’re going to get the whole picture. And that story is this: whether you have a top-down society or a decentralized one, sin will inevitably reign when God isn’t on the throne. For a “no king but Christ” libertarian, this is hardly a defeater for our position.

Watching the anti-ICE protests in Minneapolis and other major cities, it is striking how enraged and utterly unrestrained the protesters appear. So many target ICE agents with shouted profanities, obscene gestures, loud whistles, spit, and even violence against ICE vehicles and the agents themselves. Regardless of the merits of whatever their arguments, such hooliganism is unlikely to persuade viewers to embrace their cause.

This is in complete contrast with almost all the civil rights marchers of the 1950s and 1960s. When our nation was still saturated with racism and racial segregation laws, the civil rights protesters dared to attempt the seemingly impossible: overturn centuries of ugly attitudes and oppressive laws. Yet, in little more than a decade, every Jim Crow statute came tumbling down, liberating America to enter a new era of dramatically more racial equality and less racism.

It was not just the civil rights movement’s Judeo-Christian themes of love and brotherhood that helped convince Americans to reform, but the inspiring example of the civil rights demonstrators who conducted themselves with such dignity and remarkable restraint, even in the face of sometimes horrific violence against them.

This was not a coincidence but the consequence of the noble example provided by the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. and the rigorous training required of his supporters. In his workshops, wannabe marchers were assaulted to test whether they could emulate Christ’s example of turning the other cheek in the face of violence. Demonstrators also had to be well dressed and groomed, and at all times conduct themselves with the utmost decorum, especially when facing hostile bigots.

Each marcher had to respect the legal authorities and the rights of all others, behaving in as Christ-like a manner as possible. Indeed, Rev. King proclaimed that “Christ gave me the message. Gandhi gave me the method,” alluding to the Hindu nationalist leader whose peaceful protest marches and boycotts helped India achieve independence from the British Empire in 1947.

As many Britons were moved by Gandhi’s principled efforts, the non-violent civil rights marchers here soon helped create a new American consensus that Jim Crow was morally wrong. Even many segregationists acknowledged how extraordinarily well the Rev. King and other demonstrators comported themselves, and despite sometimes confronting lethal danger. As the Atlanta pastor predicted, “We will soon wear you down by our capacity to suffer. So in winning the victory we will not only win freedom for ourselves, but we will so appeal to your heart and conscience that you will be changed also.” Most segregationists did repent of their former ways.

It is no happenstance that almost the entire 1950s/’60s civil rights movement was led by Christian ministers: the Rev. King, the Rev. Ralph David Abernathy, the Rev. Andrew Young, the Rev. Hosea Williams, the Rev. Fred Shuttlesworth, the Rev. James Bevel, the Rev. James Lawson, the Rev. Joseph Lowery, the Rev. Jesse Jackson, and many other preachers of the gospel. Every one of them brought a deep religious commitment to redeem a nation and to do so guided by Biblical principles. As Rev. King understood, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness: Only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: Only love can do that.”

But too many anti-ICE “protesters” fail to prove they are motivated by the Christian virtues of love, doing unto others as we want them to do unto us, or humility. Whereas the Rev. King and his supporters found inspiration, organization, and sustenance in the Christian Church, prominent anti-ICE demonstrators have chosen instead to disrupt a peaceful Christian worship service.

If anti-ICE demonstrators really want to change hearts and minds about immigration, they should emulate the triumphant tactics of the Rev. King and Mohandas Gandhi. But the violent hysteria of so many anti-ICE agitators calls into question whether they even want a peaceful dialogue. They reveal how much less Judeo-Christian our culture has become since the 1960s.

With all the sordid revelations that have come out since his tragic martyrdom, the Rev. King was certainly no saint – and never claimed to be. Like all of us, he was a sinner. But not even his biggest critics can deny that his public persona was ever anything less than completely peaceful, poised, eager to engage in respectful debate with his fiercest foes, and willing to go to prison or even give his life for equal rights.

Wherever we stand on immigration or any other issues, we could all learn a lot from the remarkably self-restrained and strictly non-violent way that the Rev. King and other devout Christian ministers led the civil rights movement. They provide a role model not just in how to engage in political discourse responsibly, but successfully.

Elisha, the Widow, and Helping the Poor

It is common to profess concern for the poor. But much of this is mere sentiment. In The Tragedy of American Compassion, Marvin Olasky documented how the definition of the word “compassion” was changed in the dictionary over time—from its Latin roots (com-pati meaning “to suffer with”) to merely feeling sorry for someone. “True” compassion requires action, beyond simple emotion and getting one’s hands dirty.

A Role for Government?

Many of those who purport to care most about the poor are fond of using government as a means to addressing poverty. This fails the “compassion” test above, but it falls short on other grounds as well. For example, in addition to the troubling ethics of taking money from Peter to pay Paul, using the impersonal bureaucratic systems of government hardly fits the bill.

Another problem: Government specializes in brute-force material approaches. This can work relatively well to build things or blow things up. But when circumstances vary so much and nuance is key, it’s difficult to imagine inflexible mechanical policies being effective. Government might ably address the short-term material aspects of poverty—by giving food or cash to people. But it is generally unable to provide what each poor person really requires to make progress. As Olasky notes, the poor often need our time and energy—and even when we provide resources, we’re stingy with what is most important.

In his classic book on public policy, In Pursuit of Happiness and Good Government, Charles Murray uses Maslow’s hierarchy to describe the frequent tradeoffs within efforts to help the poor. A haunting question emerges: What if gains in one part of the hierarchy come at the expense of other goals? For example, what if providing material assistance undermines the agency and self-actualization of the indigent? Alternatively, how can welfare policies address both in a positive manner?

Government is also prone to what economists call the “welfare dilemma”—a type of “moral hazard” problem where subsidizing an undesirable state leads to more people in that state. In a word, it is impossible to provide assistance without reducing incentives to work. When you give people money, they’re less likely to work. And if a welfare program has a “benefit reduction rate” (less assistance as you earn more money and need less help), then work is further disincentivized.

Likewise, most subsidies are predicated on not being married. This encourages the formation of single-parent households, with all of the unfortunate statistical outcomes that follow for kids raised in those settings. Finally, note that longer assistance is more likely to breed long-term dependence. Giving more help for more time creates inevitable tradeoffs that we ignore at our peril and the peril of those we try to help.

It’s easy to be critical of government for all of the above. But most of these concepts can also be problematic for charity. Although it would be surprising if government handled this complicated topic well, private efforts can also encourage long-term dependence, foster sloth, and dehumanize the human person. (Corbett and Fikkert have a great book on this within charity and ministry: When Helping Hurts.)

We understand this in other aspects of life. Don’t feed the bears. Think twice before giving your kid a candy bar in the checkout aisle at the grocery store. How much should I help my child with the science project? Don’t choose a coach or teacher who will coddle you. When am I enabling rather than actually helping my friend? But in ministry, missions, and charity, we often overlook the inherent tensions within our efforts to try to love others well.

What Does the Bible Say?

The Bible speaks to all of these principles—from negative concerns about government policy to positive principles about effective charity. The New Testament describes principles and examples—in particular, as the Early Church lived out Christian community in what is often described as “socialism”. Even if that’s the right term (likewise, one could consider families a form of socialism), the Christian versions were voluntary and small-scale—in contrast to the immense ethical and practical problems with coercive and large-scale government efforts.

In the Old Testament, the Law is replete with rules and institutions that effectively addressed poverty in Israel. The book of Ruth has the most prominent narrative example—as Boaz subsidizes Ruth’s work in the field and then plays the role of “kinsman-redeemer” in rescuing Ruth and Naomi from poverty and childlessness. The power of the story is underlined when we read that the child of Boaz and Ruth is in the lineage of King David and Jesus Christ.

Elisha and the Widow

There is a less popular story that is arguably more useful in illustrating effective charity: the prophet Elisha helping a widow and her two sons in II Kings 4:1-7. As the narrative opens, the widow of a fellow prophet comes to Elisha, worried that creditors will seize her two sons as “slaves”. The relevant institution in the Law is what we would call “indentured servitude”—a limited period of “slavery” to survive and pay off one’s debts.

Life would be tough enough when her husband was dead and gone, especially in that time and place. But the text doesn’t explain why they were in debt prior to his death. Was it persecution by the hostile king, life circumstances, or a bad character trait? Elisha probably knows from his relationships with the prophets, but he doesn’t seem to care about the cause. Even if the husband and wife could have been more effective stewards, that’s of little importance now.

As such, Elisha asks “how can I help?” First, note that Elisha is not too busy or important to get involved. When you read the account of his life, he was active with kings and even international affairs. But this was no impediment to him embracing everyday ministry opportunities with “the little people”. In the parable of the “Good Samaritan” (Luke 10), Jesus makes the same point. Among the reasons why the priest and Levite would have been reluctant to get involved, “too busy” was on the list. As per Olasky, the Samaritan exercised (true) compassion by making time for someone in need.

Then, Elisha asks her “what do you have?” Her answer is, in essence, “not much”—only a little bit of olive oil. She actually has much more than that—time, energy, knowledge, skills, and her network of family, friends, and neighbors. Elisha’s prescription will use what she has acknowledged and harness what she has not recognized as resources. Good charity does the same.

His instructions: Get all the jars in the neighborhood and pour your oil into them. The implication is that the oil will be miraculously expanded. Her faithful participation results in miraculous provision—what could be considered the world’s first oil well! From there, Elisha tells her to sell the oil to pay their debts and care for her family. Faith, obedience, and humility. The individual working in community. Honor your commitments and look to the future. Diligent effort using available resources. In sum, the best kind of charity.

From a biblical perspective, the charity is effective in an ultimate sense, because it maximizes glory to a good and great God, instead of the giver. Notice how Elisha tells her to close the door and he removes himself from the location to avoid taking credit for the miracle. Think how this differs with politicians claiming credit for modest success, while ignoring the immense costs of their efforts.

Elisha mitigates the welfare dilemma with a one-time charitable offer. This is not going to be a repeated handout. And the provision would allow her a long-term source of wealth, income, work, and dignity. But it was also limited by the number of jars she could collect and each jar’s capacity. And it was connected to the extent of her faith and humility. (One can imagine scenarios where she would be tempted to avoid asking certain people.)

The charity involved her and her children. It required effort within the blessing. She collected jars, poured the oil, and engaged in selling the oil afterwards. The method did not require coercion or income redistribution. It enhanced the local economy through additional resources—like manna from heaven or what was equivalent to a temporary form of technological advance. It was a blessing to all who participated.

Spiritually, this promoted humility—having to ask for what she didn’t have. But it also promoted human dignity, empowering her along the lines of the material provision she brought to the table. It harnessed both personal responsibility and community involvement. And one can imagine how material assistance would easily extend to the social, the psychological, and the spiritual.

My ministry partner and I have developed discipleship curricula and training for the local church (“Thoroughly Equipped” and “Getting Equipped”). When we work with our African ministry partner, Hope Alive Initiatives, they are always aiming for empowerment and multiplication. What can people do with what they already have? How can they develop their leaders and their laypeople? Whether they start a new school, church, or business, they take steps to multiply leaders and entrepreneurs. It’s tempting to drop resources on poor people in Africa and elsewhere, but will that help as much in the long-run?

In the Parable of the Talents (Matthew 25), it’s telling that the two servants with more resources are quite effective at stewarding what they’ve been given to invest. They are commended as “good and faithful”; they are blessed with more resources to steward; and they get to join in the master’s joy. But the one-talent servant makes excuses and fails in his stewardship. One lesson is clear: Work diligently with what you’ve been given, rather than focusing on what they don’t have. Likewise, the implications for charity follow closely: Exercise compassion, finding ways to encourage people to work well with what they have been given.

The world’s financial capital will soon have a self-identified socialist mayor. Zohran Mamdani won New York City’s mayoral election campaigning in the vein of the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA). The rise of politicians openly identifying as socialist provides Christians with an opportunity for greater political clarity.

Christians must carefully consider definitions when analyzing the changing landscape of our nation’s politics. This care helps us evaluate what we say and how we say it. Proverbs 15:2 declares, “The tongue of the wise makes knowledge attractive, but the mouth of fools blurts out foolishness” (CSB). Solomon exhorts readers to carefully consider their words. We must avoid blurting out foolishness and falsehood in political discussions or debates.

The writings of Ludwig von Mises foster clear thinking and accurate speech by dividing political and economic systems into three categories: capitalism, socialism, and interventionism. Christians should be able to distinguish between the foundational tenets of each system. Such knowledge enables proper, biblical analysis of each system’s assumptions, assertions, and accomplishments.

Capitalism

The term “capitalism” has a surprising origin. Mises unpacks the history of this word writing that “capitalism” was not termed “by a friend of the system, but by an individual who considered it to be the worst of all historical systems, the greatest evil that had ever befallen mankind. That man was Karl Marx.” Despite this hostile beginning, “capitalism” is an accurate term.

Essentially, “capitalism” means a free market economy. A market system includes the free use of capital in productive enterprises. No central authority guides key industries and private property rights are rigorously protected. Free exchange of goods and services occurs in an open market.

Minimal government intervention characterizes capitalism (the “free” in free market). It restricts state activity to protecting the market through actions such as enforcing contracts and punishing fraud. Socialism, however, accepts a much broader role for the state.

Socialism

Mises defines socialism as a system in which “all the means of production are in the exclusive control of the organized community.” He further notes that “all other definitions are misleading.” The organized community manifests itself in the state or government.

The DSA’s 2025-2026 platform contains many recommendations for “progressing” toward a socialist system. However, it does not mention controlling all the means of production. The platform calls for policies that fall short of full socialism—Medicare for all, housing for all, etc.

Mises’s definition highlights the importance of clear and precise language. Even the DSA fails to clearly identify itself with socialism as defined historically. Ironically, both the DSA and politicians like Mamdani during his campaign use the term socialism inaccurately. A more precise word to describe their political and economic agenda is “interventionism.”

Interventionism

If socialism means total state control of the economy, then interventionism means partial control. Society still operates by a market economy but with restrictions (at times severe). The state in this system plays a considerable role directing production and consumption. Mises writes that the state acts by “injecting into the workings of the market, orders, commands, and prohibitions, for whose enforcement the power and constraint apparatus stands ready. But these are isolated interventions.”

Many policies that modern socialist politicians embrace are better termed “interventionist.” Mamdani’s policy goals to continue price controls on rent stabilized apartments, raise the minimum wage, or provide “free” bus service are isolated interventions in the economy. They are not full-blown control of productive forces.

However, Mises emphasizes that these policies are harmful. He notes, “Interventionism does not take all freedom from the citizens. But every one of its measures takes away a part of the freedom and narrows the field of activity.” The government in an interventionist system has significantly fewer limitations than in a free market system.

The state assumes the role of market director. It declares what economic activity can and cannot occur. Mises sums up interventionism: “The real meaning of the interventionist principle … amounts to the declaration: Business is free to act as long as what it does complies exactly with the plans and intentions of the government.” Mises saw nefarious and continual growth of government in an interventionist context—to the point of morphing into socialism.

Conclusion

Mises humorously wrote that “the usual terminology of political language is stupid.” He decried misuse of the word “capitalist” to describe a system with significant government intervention (such as exists presently in the United States). Mises valued clear and accurate definitions.

Albeit less comically than Mises, Solomon provided greater wisdom about proper use of language. Proverbs 14:3 asserts that, “The proud speech of a fool brings a rod of discipline, but the lips of the wise protect them.”  Christians follow this admonition, and avoid embarrassment, when they carefully consider their words. Accepting Mises’s threefold division of political life helps us avoid using unhelpful, biased, or downright incorrect terms when communicating. Instead, Mises equips Christians with a solid theoretical foundation to engage in accurate and winsome dialogue on political and economic topics.

To our brightest minds in our best institutions, whether in technology, academia, or beyond, do not shy away from the ultimate questions.

If you are serious about seeking the truth, about how the world really works, about what holds history and civilization together, you will eventually find yourself face-to-face with Jesus.

Every path of inquiry, if pursued honestly and deeply enough, leads back to the foot of the Cross. I did not believe that for many years. But now I am fully convinced it is true.

Part I: My Journey to Christ Began With Leaving Him

My journey was long and heterodox.

I was born and raised in Kentucky, on a farm with cows and horses. Today, I live in Manhattan with my wife and our three sons, far from the fields of my childhood.

Between those two worlds, rural Kentucky and urban New York, I’ve had to constantly synthesize experiences that could not be more different. That willingness to cross boundaries and explore the unknown has defined me.

It is why I left a high-paying job to build a company. And it is why I left the Pentecostal and non-denominational Protestant faith of my upbringing to embrace atheism.

That decision was not made in a vacuum.

Growing up in Kentucky, I was surrounded by churches. There are probably more churches than anything else, even schools. My mother was devoutly Christian. My maternal grandfather was a pastor, and so was my uncle.

Christianity was deeply woven into my family and my surroundings.

It often emphasized emotional intensity—revival services, speaking in tongues, altar calls, and the ever-present fear of Hell.

That atmosphere carried weight, but as I became a young man, it didn’t provide the kind of intellectual grounding I was searching for.

My mind was drawn to patterns, logic, and the deeper structures of how the world works.

It pushed me toward questions that demanded clarity, answers that could be tested and proven. It’s why I went to Columbia University to study computer science, and why I became a software engineer.

I loved logic, building systems, and making sense of complex problems. Above all, I loved knowing when I had reached an answer that was objectively true.

That pursuit of clarity stood in stark contrast to my upbringing. By early adulthood, I was afraid to fall asleep for fear that if I didn’t pray with absolute sincerity, and if I didn’t wake up, I would be sent to Hell.

It felt wrong. I longed for truth, yet what I carried was anxiety.

I concluded that this could not be genuine belief. Logically, if God existed, I could not fool Him with hollow prayers or fear-driven rituals. If sincerity was the standard, then I was damned regardless.

One night I said enough and I walked away.

The anxiety was lifted and I felt as though I had broken a spell.

Part II: In Pursuit of First Principles

I’ve always had a burning desire to have purpose, meaning, and to understand the world.

In my late teens, I had already begun turning to philosophy, economics, and politics in search of coherence.

Politics quickly became more than a hobby, it became my framework for understanding. Campaigns, debates, and theories of liberty gave me something to believe in, something to pursue with conviction.

Philosophy and economics added intellectual scaffolding, and for a time, these pursuits felt like enough.

But politics and philosophy, for all their explanatory power, could not touch the deeper questions of existence. They could diagnose the structures of society, even offer solutions for governance, but they could not answer the ache at the center of human life.

I had read all the great works of the Austrian economists—Mises, Hayek, Rothbard and many others—whose writings on liberty and order spoke to me. And through them, I encountered Ayn Rand.

Rand’s philosophy of Objectivism provided an integrated worldview that contrasted sharply with the fear-driven religion I had left behind. She presented human life as a pursuit of reason, self-interest, and achievement.

Her critique of religion, through the archetypes of Attila and the Witch Doctor, was searing. Attila represented raw force, while the Witch Doctor represented those who used myth and superstition to control people through guilt and fear.

When I read that, I immediately thought of the fire-and-brimstone preaching of my youth. Christianity, as I had known it, seemed unnecessary and manipulative. The Witch Doctor embodied everything I wanted to escape.

But Rand provided more than a critique of religion. She critiqued Nietzsche for exalting power and rejecting objective morality, and she reserved similar disdain for figures who cloaked irrationalism in philosophy or culture.

By contrast, she admired minds that pursued reason, clarity, and creative achievement. This contrast gave her philosophy a moral framework, anchored in the defense of reason against the chaos of relativism, that I found bracing and liberating.

For many years it shaped my entire way of seeing the world.

I lived fully convinced that God was myth and that none of it was true. I was not militant in my unbelief. I felt tolerant of those who still believed. But there was no part of me that considered it real.

Religion, to me, was a cultural artifact with no claim on the present or future. The question of Christ did not linger at the edges; it was absent altogether.

I thought I had closed the book for good.

Part III: “I consider myself religious, but not spiritual”

The years passed, and my focus shifted from politics toward building a career in technology.

The transition felt natural.

Politics had taught me how ideas could shape societies. Technology showed me how ideas could shape the future.

Immersed in the world of technology, I came across Peter Thiel.

His talks, essays, and interviews quickly became a staple for me. I consumed nearly everything he produced. Admittedly, I still do.

At first, it was his insights on startups, how to build lasting companies, how to think about competition, and how monopoly could actually foster innovation, that drew me in. His mental model for technology and business felt as true as anything I had encountered in economics or philosophy.

But gradually, I began to notice something else woven into his talks, something I had not expected from a Silicon Valley investor. Thiel spoke not only about technology and markets, but about Christianity.

I was shocked.

The same man whose insights on monopoly and innovation shaped my thinking was also insisting that the figure of Christ, and the anthropology behind Him, were central to understanding history and society.

I had assumed all serious thinkers in science and technology had long since abandoned Christianity.

Yet here was Thiel, a figure I respected deeply, speaking openly and in detail about Christ. He framed Christianity not as myth, but as anthropology and logic, truth woven into the structure of civilization itself.

What had I missed?

Again and again Thiel returned to Christianity, often through his evangelizing of René Girard.

And so my journey back to Christ began with this introduction of Girard.

Reading Girard required me to step out of my modern lens. I had to imagine the world as it once was, before nation‑states, codified laws, or Christianity.

Girard argues that we are imitative creatures; we learn what to want by desiring what others desire.

This “mimetic desire” fosters language and human culture, but also rivalry. When two people mirror one another’s desires, “double mimesis” spirals into escalating competition.

In large bands, that spiral turns deadly with feuds, vendettas, and cycles of revenge. Without limits, societies collapse into violence.

This was the reality of much of human history.

So how did humanity escape that trap? Girard’s answer is the scapegoat mechanism.

Communities discovered, unconsciously, a way to defuse internal chaos: unite against a single victim, an outsider, or a suddenly accused member. The victim’s death or expulsion bought peace, at least for a time.

In killing or casting out one, the many were reconciled. For the community, it felt miraculous.

That’s why myth, sacrifice, and ritual are universal: humanity’s earliest “technologies” for containing violence.

Examples are everywhere. In Greek myth, Oedipus is accused of bringing plague upon Thebes; his expulsion restores order.

In Leviticus 16, the Hebrew tradition makes the scapegoat literal: “And Aaron shall lay both his hands upon the head of the live goat, and confess over him all the iniquities of the children of Israel… and shall send him away… into the wilderness.” One goat is sacrificed, another driven out. Guilt is transferred, community is restored.

Ancient religions institutionalized sacrifice, animal and often human, because it “worked.” It kept groups from tearing themselves apart.

But it was never a final answer. The mechanism “worked” by concealing its injustice.

The victim had to be declared guilty. Only if everyone believed the victim guilty could peace hold. It was a fragile peace, built on a lie.

It took months for me to fully digest this fundamental truth that Girard had discovered.

But the realization finally struck me with full force.

You see, myths almost never take the side of the scapegoat; they portray the victim as deserving.

In this context, the Bible is unique and unlike myth.

Across the Old Testament, the innocence of the scapegoat victim begins to be revealed.

Cain and Abel: envy culminates in murder, and God declares, “Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground.” The teaching sides with the murdered.

Joseph: betrayed by his brothers, sold, falsely accused, imprisoned, then publicly vindicated. Job: stripped of everything, accused by friends, yet declared righteous by God.

Again and again, Scripture unmasks this scapegoat mechanism. Victims are not necessarily guilty; often they are innocent.

The unveiling is gradual but it ultimately reaches its climax in the New Testament. Christ is arrested, accused, mocked, and crucified.

Pilate admits, “I find no fault in him.” The mimetic and raging crowd still cries, “Crucify him!”

For the first time, myth openly and definitively sides with the victim. The scapegoat mechanism is exposed in full.

And what follows is even more radical. Hanging on the cross, Christ does not call down God’s wrath on His accusers. Instead, He prays: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34).

In a world where vengeance was the only imaginable response to injustice, this was unprecedented. The completely innocent one, publicly condemned and brutally executed, offers forgiveness to His executioners.

This is not weakness; it is the ultimate unveiling. It reveals that forgiveness, not sacrifice or revenge, is the true foundation of peace.

That moment is not just a theological claim. It is an anthropological earthquake.

Humanity no longer needed to rely on scapegoating to hold societies together. There was now another way: forgiveness and reconciliation.

The crucifixion unveiled the futility of scapegoating and pointed toward an order grounded in truth and mercy.

The Gospels unveil the innocence of the victim and overturn the cycles of sacrifice, offerings to appease the gods and blood to purchase peace, that societies had been built.

A new moral order begins. The weak, the poor, the marginalized, once expendable, are granted dignity.

Christ proclaims, “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” In the ancient world, this is an inversion bordering on insanity. In Christianity, it becomes the center of gravity.

If violence and sacrifice no longer underwrite social order, what replaces them? Forgiveness.

Cycles of revenge give way to reconciliation. Endless feuds yield to the possibility of law and justice grounded in mercy.

The cross exposes the futility of scapegoating; the resurrection points to a new basis for community.

From my acknowledgement of mimetic desire and scapegoating, I began to see Christianity not as superstition but as a civilizational catalyst.

The crucifixion reordered culture itself and everything downstream of it.

It eventually inspired science. It grounded law. It reshaped morality. It made possible the world we inhabit today.

If the gods are capricious, nature is arbitrary and not worth systematic study.

But modern science rests on the conviction that nature is law‑like and consistent, a conviction nurtured by Christianity. The old gods were unpredictable, their whims shaping nature in arbitrary ways. Christianity introduced the belief in a rational Creator, making it possible to expect order and discover natural laws.

Francis Bacon explicitly framed scientific inquiry as faithful stewardship of creation, an obedient search for the order God embedded in the world.

Isaac Newton, whose laws still structure physics, wrote extensively on theology and saw his equations as glimpses of divine rationality. For them, Christianity wasn’t an obstacle; it was the foundation.

Without the Christian belief in an intelligible, law‑governed universe, science as we know it would not have emerged.

The Church, contrary to popular caricature, often nurtured this growth. Monasteries preserved manuscripts and pursued natural study. Medieval universities, born under ecclesial auspices, became engines of learning. Clergy like Copernicus stood at the frontier.

The narrative of inherent “conflict” between Christianity and science is modern mythology. Historically, Christian institutions and convictions gave science room to grow.

I started evangelizing everything that I had learned to everyone who would listen.

Many saw themselves as spiritual but not religious. I argued the opposite: I now considered myself religious, but not spiritual.

Our society is downstream of Christianity, and we need it.

But I wasn’t quite convinced that Christ was divine.

However, I could not deny that I was starting to come full circle.

Part IV: From Cultural Framework to Divine Reality

After Christ, the early church endured waves of persecution under Rome. Christians were imprisoned, tortured, and executed for refusing to bow to the gods of empire. Yet Christianity did not disappear, it grew.

By the time of Constantine, Christianity had spread across the empire. What had begun with a small band of persecuted believers became the moral and cultural foundation of Rome itself.

At first, I could see this only in political or cultural terms. I began to acknowledge that Christianity had provided the framework society needed to move beyond endless cycles of violence.

But soon I had to reckon with more.

Unlike myth, Jesus was universally acknowledged by historians as a real historical figure who was crucified.

Unlike myth, the apostles suffered brutal deaths rather than deny their belief that the Resurrection was true.

Unlike myth, the Gospels gave honor to women as the first witnesses of the resurrection.

Unlike myth, the texts were written within decades of the events, too close to be legend.

And unlike myth, the message spread with astonishing speed across hostile territory.

This one singular moment, the Cross and the empty tomb, had changed the course of human history. It could not be explained away as politics or myth alone.

And so I began to see clearly: once you acknowledge the singular importance of Christianity, you are brought to the threshold of faith.

At that point, the question is no longer whether Christianity shaped society, and whether we need it, it is whether Christ Himself is divine.

From unmasking violence to offering a path of forgiveness that forever alters the trajectory of the human history, the answer is clear.

I believe in Christ because of the coherence of truth, the testimony of history, and the transformation of forgiveness.

This belief matters now more than ever before.

The crucifixion did not end violence overnight. We have human agency. We still scapegoat in politics, in culture, in war.

But the mechanism has been unmasked. And the old “cure” buys less peace each year.

Many in America have walked a path like mine, leaving Christianity behind. In its absence, hyper‑forms of politics and ideology rush to fill the void.

Identity politics, cultural crusades, and tribal battles take on religious intensity. They echo Christianity’s concern for the victim, but without Christ as the model they stop short of forgiveness, the only force that can truly end the cycle of vengeance.

Without forgiveness, empathy hardens into resentment. Sympathy for the victim calcifies into rivalry with new scapegoats. And so the cycle continues.

Without Christ, we are left with endless recrimination and the seeds of hell on earth, the very hell I once feared, and now fully understand.

But through Christ, the hope is greater, with forgiveness and reconciliation, as modeled by Him, as an alternative path.

This is not a return to a fear‑driven belief. It is an embrace of a Christ that is intellectually rigorous and personally transformative. It is a Christianity for a better future.

My journey began in fear, passed through rejection, and found nourishment in philosophy, only to return, not in a circle but in a spiral, higher and deeper.

And at the center of my long and winding path, from Kentucky to the Ivy League, from Silicon Valley to the Cross, I found Christ: the answer to violence, the hope of forgiveness, and the foundation for our future.

The Christian has eternity on his mind; death is not the worst thing that can happen to him. The secularist will compromise all day long so long as it ensures his life; he will complain, perhaps protest, shout when gathering in groups, but lacks the conviction of those who are more eternally focused.

“The individual therein [democracy] is considered a human material…able to be exchanged or manipulated at will. He is reduced solely to his utilitarian aspects of producer, consumer and taxpayer. He is merely a tool programmed by the media and education…in order to suitably fulfill his role as ‘ram material’ the individual must be void of any roots, without race, without nation, and without religion. He must be devoid of an ideal, or rather his sole ideal must be simply the satisfaction of his needs. In morality, he must be relativistic so as to readily accept all tendencies of the ruling power…furthermore the individual must be void of personality as of independent judgment. It is imperative that he conform to the movements of the crowd and not seek to be different.”
– Christophe Buffin de Chosal, The End of Democracy

The media, government education, and other modes of propaganda are guaranteed to promote collectivist and totalitarian values. Because of mass voting, the power is with “we the people,” and thus, people’s minds and how they vote will be controlled by the existing powers. Around the world, the same methods and results occur whenever and wherever democracy is implemented. 

The authorities ensure the populace has the worldview and mindset enabling the maximum accumulation of power to itself and providing the least resistance to its expansion of control. Despite what American conservatives tell you, propaganda is not a modern, liberal, or Marxist development, it arose as soon as parliamentary forms of governance began.

Every democratic state eradicates philosophies heretical and harmful to itself and reshapes man to its liking via education and media. The secular totalitarian state seeks to extend into and take over historically opposing institutions, such as the church and family unit. It seeks to vilify and demonize its competitors whom it desires to displace.

The state will, via education, portray those competing institutions as authoritarian, controlling, oppressive systems individuals must free themselves from. The church, the family, local customs, and so on are to be characterized as placing enslavement upon the masses. In contrast, a totalitarian state with more control, power and interference than all of those institutions combined is portrayed as a freeing device. Eventually the only authority will be the state, as it tears down and replaces God and the family.

William Bowen, a former president of Princeton University, and Derek Bok, former president of Harvard, declared, “Education is special, deeply political, almost sacred civil activity…it is a moral and aesthetic enterprise – expressing to impressionable minds a set of convictions about how most nobly to live in the world.” The state instills in students what it desires them to learn, how to think or not think, their religious beliefs, their morality, and so on.

Everywhere democracy is instituted, it promotes and teaches relativism, materialism, atheism, and immorality. It seeks to separate people from their family, traditions, religion, local laws, and customs to make a population easier to mold to its image. They enjoy malleable moving masses.

But why does the state teach secularism? Why does it desire an atheist population? Docility is the most prominent cause.

Secularists can be easily swayed. Like sheep, they fall in line with the spirit of the age. But Christians, Dante says, are “more difficult to move and do not be feathers in every wind.” If people have no solid foundation and no roots running deep in the soil, they can be easily swept off by the current agenda of the day. This predictable result is by design. Secular philosopher Noam Chomsky admitted, “The whole educational and professional training system is a very elaborate filter, which weeds out people who are too independent, and who think for themselves, and who don’t know how to be submissive, and so on…Because they’re dysfunctional to the institutions.”

A population viewing stealing or lying as immoral is an obstacle needing to be removed if you wish to steal and lie and redistribution and elections are built upon them both. Democracies teach moral relativism and atheism to remove ideas of absolute right and wrong so the highest authority in society is the people currently in power who then face no higher authority they must themselves conform to.

Every government wishing to become God—desiring to regulate morality, family, education, the economy, marriage, gender, and thought–—must remove any higher moral law. It must turn the population into docile, unprincipled people whose authorities on morality, philosophy, religion, and politics are politicians, government educators, and national media “experts” rather than the Bible, the family, tradition, or the Church. The government must be the ultimate authority.

James Carter, a Harvard education “reformer,” said, “A state-controlled teachers’ college can be an engine to sway the public sentiment, morals and the public religion more powerful than any in the possession of the government.” Education is the means of ensuring the population is as those in power desire them to be. John Stuart Mill writes “A general state education is a mere contrivance for molding people to be exactly like one another, and the mold in which it casts them is that which pleases the predominant power in government.” Atheist C.F Potter said, “Education is thus a most powerful ally of humanism, and every American public school is a school of humanism. What can the theistic Sunday school, meeting for an hour once a week, and teaching only a fraction of the children, do to stem the tide of a five-day program of humanistic leanings?” And Bertrand Russell said, “Every government that has been in charge of education for more than one generation will be able to control its subjects securely without the need of armies or policemen…to produce the sort of character and the sort of beliefs that the authorities consider desirable, and any serious criticism of the powers that be will become psychologically impossible. Even if all are miserable, all will believe themselves happy, because the government will tell them that they are so.” 

And thus, we have citizens across the West under more authoritarian governments than have ever existed in the history of man, yet honestly believing they are freer than any before them. Only government education could accomplish this miracle.

Philosopher Aldous Huxley wrote, “A really efficient totalitarian state would be one in which the all-powerful executive of political bosses and their army of managers control a population of slaves who do not have to be coerced, because they love their servitude.” This truth is proven in each election in secular totalitarian America.

Professor of politics Adrian Pabst describes the democratic mindset as “voluntary servitude.” He quotes Pierre Manent, who described the democratic man: “He can only be granted, he can only give himself so much liberty because he is so domesticated.” And, as Pabst explained, this is not a failure in democracy but “an evolution that is inscribed into the very logic of democratic rule.” Democracy’s objective is always to mold mankind into willing slavery. 

Liberty cannot last without a moral Christian population. John Adams said, “Our constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.” Similarly, Samuel Adams said, “Religion and good morals are the only solid foundation of public liberty and happiness.” Thomas Jefferson wrote, “Can the liberties of a nation be thought secure when we have removed their only firm basis, a conviction in the minds of people that these liberties are the gift of God?”

If you can remove Christianity and morality from people’s interactions, they will lie, cheat, and steal more easily. The people will then seek more government intervention and regulation to prevent others from taking advantage of them. Immoral, sinful people need more government to control them. Likewise, such citizens will lack the virtue to resist government tyranny. Moral decay is a win-win for any totalitarian.

Something a secularist cannot understand is when you have liberty in Christ, nothing else matters; therefore, you are truly free. No amount of coercion can mold you into something different. I never felt free until I became a Christian. I became free to follow God’s design for my life as I was meant/made to do. Medieval theologian Meister Eckhart wrote, “As long as man loves something other than God, or outside of God, he is not free.”

Pastor Josef Tson wrote sermons encouraging Christians to resist the Romanian communist government; he was imprisoned and ordered to recant or face execution. Tson replied, “Your supreme weapon is killing, my supreme weapon is dying…sir, my sermons will speak ten times louder after you kill me…go on and do it.” When Pope Boniface VIII faced the assassins sent to kill him, he declared, “Here is my head, here is my neck. For the faith of my Lord Jesus Christ, I wish to die.” Brought before the king for his open defiance of him, Archbishop Thomas Becket declared, “For the name of Jesus and the defense of the Church, I embrace death.” When facing seemingly undefeatable pagan Vikings during The 10th century, English King Edmund stated he would never retreat from battle but face them head-on, because “God almighty knows that I will never falter from his service, nor from loving his truth, If I die, I live.” The second-century Christian Justin Martyr told Emperor Antoninus Pius, “You can kill us, but you cannot harm us.”

What do you do with such people? If you’re the government, how do you control them? The pastor in the following example shows how uncontrollable and uncompromising Christians can be, even in the face of death. The note below was found on the desk of a martyred Zimbabwe pastor:

The die has been cast. I have stepped over the line. The decision has been made. I am a disciple of His. I won’t look back, let up, slow down, back away or be still…I’m finished with low living, sight walking, small planning, smooth knees…I no longer need preeminence, prosperity, position, promotions, plaudits, or popularity. I don’t have to be right, first, tops, recognized, praised, regarded or rewarded…I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, deluded or delayed. I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of the adversary, negotiate at the table of the enemy, pander at the pool of popularity or meander in the maze of mediocrity. I won’t give up, shut up, let up, until I’ve stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up, preached up for the cause of Christ. I am a disciple of Jesus. I must go till He comes, give ’til I drop, preach till all know, and work till He stops me. And when He comes for His own, He’ll have no problem recognizing me. My banner will be clear!

Christians who put the authority of God above man make for terrible slaves. These sorts of Christians are unmanageable; they just won’t behave. They throw your tea in the harbor, write secession documents like a declaration of independence, ignore your unlawful, immoral dictates. We, being multiple generations into democracy, have been domesticated beasts for so long we have become complacent, caged animals, impotent against the oppressor, not knowing what liberty is—or worse, afraid of it.  We have become a totalitarian’s preferred slave, who “desires and loves his chains.” We have become tame dogs rather than wolves.

What then are we to do? We should endeavor to become Christians of full conviction and steadfast faith, and perhaps at times make the ultimate sacrifice for what is right, since we do in fact owe everything and more to Christ, the one who freed us.

Our work at the Libertarian Christian Institute is based on our conviction that libertarianism is the most consistent expression of Christian political thought. This is, of course, a highly debatable contention, one that won’t be resolved in this essay.

Whereas libertarianism emerged out of the insights and convictions of an 18th century European movement that is now called “classical liberalism,” Christianity was birthed in the first century A.D. Why then, if Christianity and libertarianism are fundamentally compatible, did it take so long for libertarianism to come about?

This question could also be asked of the many different political philosophies that Christians have held over the centuries–progressivism, conservatism, communism, Christian nationalism, to name but a few. That fact on its own simply doesn’t mean that none of these modern positions are compatible with our faith. When we are developing a Christian view of politics, we must ask what the universal principles of our faith have to say about the political realm; then apply it in our own context. When we do so, certain perspectives will show themselves to be more compatible with Christianity than others.

Libertarian Christians argue that key biblical emphases like individual accountability, freedom of faith, the danger and corruptibility of political power, condemnation of unjust violence, and love for neighbor are best applied in the political sphere by strictly limiting the domain in which government force can be exercised. By limiting this violence to only what can be justified by the principle of non-aggression, we and our neighbors may flourish as we pursue our own and each others’ interests through voluntary trade and mutual support.

To make this argument cogent, we must start by examining the values of the earliest Christian communities which produced the New Testament.

Was the Early Church a Libertarian Community?

The early church was a voluntary community. Within that community social pressure like exhorting, teaching, shunning, etc. was exerted to regulate ethical behavior and keep Christian fellowships on the same page, but participation in the community was nevertheless always a voluntary choice. Christians who left other religions could often no longer count on their former network of support, so the church stepped in to care for those in need – without anyone having to pick up a sword or send a tax collector to do it. When conflict did arise between brothers, it was considered shameful to use secular law courts to force a desired outcome (1 Corinthians 6:1-8).

However, the church did not apply all of these principles to the realm of secular politics. Early Christians saw the church as unique. They did not expect the government to operate exactly the way the church did. Instead, they expected the pagan magistrates of their day to do the following:

1. Be able to discern a basic sense of right and wrong even without an explicit knowledge of Christ or Scripture (Rom. 13),
2. Pose a threat to evildoers who harm others (1 Pet. 2:14; Romans 12:19, 13:4),
3. Leave Christians alone to practice their faith in peace (1 Tim. 2:2, Acts 5:29).

When taken together, these data points suggest that the purpose of government is to enforce principles of natural law and justice; that is, to protect the innocent from those who would hurt, kill, or steal from them. The most consistent application of these biblical principles in the political sphere is libertarianism.

What changed?

Historians such as Tom Holland and Larry Sidentop have traced the moral influence of Christianity throughout western thought. Christian apologist Glen Scrivener, in his book The Air We Breathe, argues that the western emphasis on the values of equality, compassion, consent, and freedom can be traced back directly to the New Testament. For good measure, he also contrasts the ancient world’s acceptance of infanticide, rape, and class-based double standards with the values it advocated after the West’s widespread conversion to Christianity. They conclude that the best thoughts and values of the Christian tradition have made western civilization better than it would be otherwise.

Unfortunately, the opposite has also been true: once church and state began to influence one another, the worst values of those in power have far too often shaped the theology of the church. For instance, while the 5th century theologian Augustine of Hippo sought to limit the carnage of unbridled statism by devising “just war” principles which good rulers were expected to follow, he also called on the state to punish his theological opponents the Donatists. The Roman Emperor Constantine’s conversion to Christianity in the fourth century created an opportunity for Christian principles to reshape the world for the better, but it also allowed the world to reshape Christianity for the worse. One negative outcome, judged by the principles which the earliest church espoused, was that the church became integrated with the state and its violence–Christianity went from a voluntary community to a compulsory one.

A few isolated European thinkers here and there flirted with the idea of separation of church and state, but it could not win mainstream support until Martin Luther’s example of following his own conscience and questioning the Roman Catholic Church. As Luther nailed his 95 Theses on the door of the Wittenberg church, the door to freedom of conscience also began to open–though only a crack at first. The delay was the result of the belief of the Protestant Reformers that instead of the pope, earthly rulers had a right to dictate the religion of their land. Part of this mistaken belief was the result of the cultural zeitgeist which presumed that uniformity in religious opinion was necessary for a peaceful and ordered society.

As people slowly learned to tolerate each other’s religious differences, rulers saw that a state religion was not necessary to a proper order. Furthermore, believers began to see that, far from keeping Christianity strong, state churches placed Christian leaders in comfortable positions in proximity to power in a way that weakened the church’s prophetic witness. In the last five hundred years, the Western church has given more serious consideration to the principles of freedom and individual conscience, in both its Catholic and Protestant variants.

Is Catholic teaching compatible with libertarian thought?

Catholic teaching has increasingly embraced freedom of conscience and many of the ideas promoted by classical liberalism, but it has had a more complicated relationship to the principles of capitalism due to its potential association with greed.

For instance, the Catechism of the Catholic Church states that “a theory that makes profit the exclusive norm and ultimate end of economic activity is morally unacceptable” (2424). In Evangelii Gaudium, Pope Francis critiques “ideologies which defend the absolute autonomy of the marketplace and financial speculation [and thus] reject the right of states, charged with vigilance for the common good, to exercise any form of control.”

On the other hand, Pope John XXIII wrote in Mater et Magistra that “it is wrong to withdraw from the individual and commit to a community what private enterprise and industry can accomplish.” In the Syllabus of Errors, Pope Pius IX similarly defined as a dangerous error the notion that, “the State… is endowed with a certain right not circumscribed by any limits.” Pope John Paul II lived out his opposition to this error in inspiring Polish resistance to communism and its anti-religious authoritarianism.

All of these sources give direction to Catholics, but applying them is a more complicated matter. While Catholics hold to the doctrine of papal infallibility, it doesn’t apply to every statement uttered by a pope. And even principles of Catholic social teaching – like the life and dignity of the human person, the option for the poor and vulnerable, creation care, and the dignity of work – must be considered contextually in the light of data that compels us to the best method for applying these values. Catholic libertarians are persuaded that the best way to protect these values and many others besides is through increasing freedom, limiting government, and creating more prosperity–all of these libertarian values. As Fr. Robert Sirico, priest and president of the Acton Institute, put it:

“The arrogant assumption [on the Christian left] is that if you’re not advocating for government to be the normative way in which the poor are helped, then you’re not a Catholic. And that idea is not Catholic. The first people to act on behalf of the vulnerable should be individuals, acting as neighbors, acting in communities.”

Can Protestant traditions be reconciled with libertarianism?

Protestant thought has also had both libertarian and non-libertarian strains.

The Anabaptist movement, which birthed communities such as the Mennonites, Church of the Brethren, and the Amish, emerged out of a principled rejection of state religion and participation in state violence, even though many of its modern proponents have been politically progressive. Restorationist movements like the Church of Christ produced leaders in its early years like David Lipscomb, whose book Civil Government has become a libertarian Christian classic.

Reformed theology gave us the theonomic reconstructionism of R.J. Rushdoony, which tends to advocate for a more authoritarian theocratic state. But it also gave us Abraham Kuyper’s limiting principle of sphere sovereignty–which Reformed libertarians like Gregory Baus, Kerry Baldwin, and Jacob Winograd regularly appeal to in their thinking.

Methodism’s John Wesley remained a faithful subject of England and spoke against the American Revolution, but he also directed his movement to oppose slavery, writing in his book Thoughts Upon Slavery, “liberty is the right of every human creature, as soon as he breathes the vital air; and no human law can deprive him of that right which he derives from the law of nature.”

Despite the rise of dominionism in contemporary charismatic circles, early Pentecostals were marked by a moral suspicion of the state. Church of God (Cleveland, Tennessee) founder A.J. Tomlinson spoke against voting; as did the early theologian of speaking in tongues Charles Parham, who also wrote in an essay in Electing Not to Vote, that “fighting by sword or ballot arouses all the carnal there is in people.”

While these examples are not fully-formed expressions of the libertarian ideological systems which we’ve come to know in the last hundred years or so, they are stepping stones directing us to a more consistent application of the “no king but Christ” philosophy which libertarian Christians hold to.

Conclusions

While the first century church always attempted to maintain a peaceful relationship with the Roman empire, they ultimately saw it as a satanically-empowered beast (see Revelation 12-13) and were convicted that when human laws opposed the law of God, “it is better to obey God rather than man” (Acts 5:29). Christianity’s status as a state religion complicated this picture, but we’ve nevertheless seen countless examples of various Christian traditions advocating for ideas and policies which are consistent with religious freedom, individual rights, and other voluntaryist and libertarian principles. Of course, we’ve also seen authoritarian ideas advanced within all kinds of Christian denominations and traditions.

The primary question is not whether one can find examples of Christian nationalist thought within one’s tradition or denomination–recall that Jesus Himself had disciples who utterly failed to understand his mission. Instead, it is this–what is the best and most biblical thought within my tradition? As a libertarian Christian, I would urge you to seek out that thought within your own Christian community and build on it to further a theology that looks more like Jesus than Caesar.

Christians drawn to libertarianism may find themselves looking for a Christian community that is more compatible with their voluntaryistic or nonviolent commitments. For those who are looking, the following suggestions may be useful:

1. Examine the history of denominations and church networks that you’re interested in to see what voluntaryist or anti-war threads run through their history. Being able to point to these threads will give you a strong foundation to argue for your own place within that tradition.
2. Talk to elders and pastors in local congregations that you’re curious about to determine whether your views will be sympathized with (or at least tolerated!), and whether that church has a commitment to partisan politics in a way is likely to create conflict in the future as your own perspective is made known.
3. Decide for yourself how central your political theology is to your faith. If there is a tradition which you share many core convictions with, but in which your libertarian leanings would make you an outlier, should that be a dealbreaker? Perhaps, if the difference is particularly extreme. For instance, I would not want to join a church that is so committed to defending a politician that it makes me question if their ultimate allegiance is to Jesus; but I might be willing to join one that tends to lean politically left or right so long as their theological and discipleship commitments are generally quite good.

Being part of a church with some diversity on politics can even be valuable as it gives you more opportunities to understand and love your neighbors better. As you make these determinations for yourself, be open to the leading of the Spirit as well as the direction of Scripture and of godly people around you.

For more on the topic of finding a good church, you can listen to Libertarian Christian Podcast Episode 148: “Church Worth Getting Up For”

As a devout Christian I believe all human beings are made in the “image of God” (Gen. 1:26-27). This truth claim shapes my understanding of abortion.

Clement of Alexandria reasoned in his Stromata Book 1 chapter 5 that “God is the cause of all good things.” Even the truthful insights of unbelieving Greek philosophers come from God. We sum up this reasoning as “All truth is God’s truth wherever it may be found.”

One such source of God-given reasoning shines in the brilliance of French economist Frédéric Bastiat. Although he was likely derelict in his Christian faith when he wrote it, his What is Seen and What is Not Seen expresses human reality with timeless wisdom.

Bastiat reasoned that an action can have many effects. The immediate one gets our attention. That first effect is what is seen. The other effects that follow are what is not seen.

Bastiat explained the economics of this with a parable about a broken window. A shopkeeper’s son accidentally breaks a window. The unhappy shopkeeper must pay to replace the window.

However, other observers explain that the broken window is actually a net gain. Glass makers need to sell windows to stay in business. The shop gets a shiny, new window. The child is now the glass maker’s hero. Many more people benefit, because the glass maker has extra money to spend on other business. Money circulates and “employs” a whole community. It’s a win-win situation!

What is seen in this flawed theory is the new window and spreading wealth. But what about the effect on the shopkeeper that others conveniently overlook? After replacing the window, he now has less money. What is unseen is what the shopkeeper could have done with that money. Instead of replacing a broken window, he could have bought a new pair of shoes. This benefits the shoe maker, who can now spend money elsewhere.

Money circulation happens in either scenario. A broken window is not a net gain for the economy. It redistributes wealth from the shopkeeper and is a total net loss. Money spent from a broken window is hastier and prone to exploitation. Money spent without a broken window would likely be voluntary and better planned. Both parties to the exchange could fare better.

Destruction doesn’t increase an economy. It only decreases it while benefiting some people at the expense of others. As I read Bastiat’s masterpiece recently, a thought pierced my mind. He explained that the unseen “third person” in the scenario “is always kept in the shade.” Yet, to understand the truth, Bastiat argues, this third person “shows us how absurd it is to think we see a profit in an act of destruction.”

These words echoed in my heart as I thought about the abortion debate. I wonder how many have tested this issue with the broken window fallacy. I invite you to see how abortion can lead us to the fallacy of “the blessings of destruction.” We can forget that shaded “third person” in this issue. No matter how we may be tempted to reason, ending an unborn human life in the womb is an act of “destruction.”

What is seen when a man and woman engage in intercourse is the euphoria of the moment together. This is Bastiat’s “immediate” effect. What is unseen are the other effects that are actual and potential, including the possibility of an unexpected pregnancy. As I hear the argument “My body, my choice!” I can’t think of a better example of an argument only for what is seen. What is not seen is that shaded “third person,” the new human life forming in the womb.

The shopkeeper’s son may not have intended to break the window. That doesn’t mean sacrifice isn’t necessary to repair the damage. Unlike a broken window, a new human life is growing. Nothing has been “destroyed.” However, the seen and the unseen are clear.

For abortion proponents, an unplanned pregnancy may be a tragedy, and the solution is to end it. What is seen is the pain, grief, and fear of an unprepared mother or couple. No one should dare minimize that! What is also seen is the cost of pregnancy and child rearing. But what is unseen is the human life that will end by force: the “third person.”

When an abortion happens, the “immediate” effect seen is the relief from a disruptive and difficult situation. But, as Bastiat taught, an action has multiple unseen effects. What is unseen is the pain the unborn child may have experienced, a life forcefully ended, and the potential effects this loss will carry.

Like the broken window fallacy shows, money circulates if a window is broken or not. Remember, the broken window is a net loss. What is seen with an abortion is the perceived economic benefit that the woman is now more free to offer society. What is unseen, however, is the human dignity, value, worth, and potential economic benefit the child could have offered society.

May I suggest that what is unseen includes the unspoken agony and depression that post-abortive parents may experience for decades. What is seen is a “Turnaway Study” that followed some women for up to 5 years after abortion to claim that regret is a myth. What is unseen are the countless people who hide their pain until they can be “Silent No More.”

As the battle over abortion rages, we can’t deny what scientific advances bring to the seen and the unseen. Two hundred years ago, what was seen was the evidence of human life at “quickening,” when the mother felt the first “kick.” What was unseen was unborn human life before that. High-resolution ultrasound and other tools now greatly expand what is seen, and drastically reduce what is unseen.

What is now seen is a “zinc spark” when fertilization begins and a primitive fetal heartbeat at only three weeks gestation. What is now seen is the ability to watch human life grow and develop from conception to birth.

But the rhetoric and policies of abortion want to keep the unseen in the shade. Abortion jealously guards our ignorance to protect us from the unseen. Abortion tempts us to see only its perceived benefits. That forgotten “third person” must remain unseen. Despite what ultrasound shows and morality would dictate, we must force our reason and senses to press what is seen into the realm of what is unseen to shade it.

Frederic Bastiat reportedly reclaimed his belief in God near his death by saying “I see, I know, I believe; I am a Christian.” As “all truth is God’s truth,” I believe Bastiat’s wonderful treatise on What is Seen and What is Not Seen is full of truth for Christian and non-Christian alike. We should see the unseen wherever our mind’s eye finds it. Bastiat’s logic demands we pull that “third person” out of the shade and respect unborn human life.

The assassination of Charlie Kirk on September 10, 2025, at Utah Valley University shocked the nation, casting a stark light on the fragility of free speech in what feels like an era of  unprecedented division. Kirk, a Christian and conservative advocate, was gunned down while exercising his right to speak, sparking polarized reactions: creating a shift on the political right demanding new hate speech laws, while others defend unfettered expression as a cornerstone of liberty. 

This tragedy reveals a deeper crisis; as government censorship, self-imposed or community-driven silencing, and threats to Christian witness undermine the constitutional, biblical, and libertarian principles that define a free society. It’s important that freedom loving individuals make their voices heard at a time like this, otherwise the reactionary response will be worse than the tragedy for civil liberties. 

Drawing on history and a Christian worldview, we must oppose coercive restrictions, hate evil while loving enemies, and foster voluntary dialogue to preserve the marketplace of ideas.

Government censorship has long threatened individual liberty. Censors justify their immoral laws often by fear. The Smith Act of 1940, which criminalized advocating the overthrow of the government, exemplifies this danger. During the Red Scare, it silenced political dissent, as seen in Dennis v. United States (1951), where the Supreme Court upheld convictions despite vague applications. The later Yates v. United States (1957) narrowed its scope, but the precedent of state overreach lingered. Notably, the Smith Act’s reach extended beyond communists, its earliest victims included Trotskyists and later, far-right isolationists like Robert Edmondson, whose anti-war pamphlets and nationalist rhetoric landed him in the infamous Great Sedition Trial of 1944.

Edmondson, a financial journalist turned isolationist and outspoken antisemite, was indicted alongside dozens of others for allegedly conspiring to undermine the U.S. war effort. Though never convicted, the trial, plagued by procedural chaos and ideological confusion, exposed how the Smith Act blurred the line between dissent and sedition. Edmondson’s reputation was irreparably damaged, not only by the charges but by his own propagation of hateful rhetoric. His case illustrated how fear-driven legislation can be weaponized against voices across the political spectrum, including those espousing views that are morally reprehensible yet still protected under the broad canopy of free speech. The episode remains a cautionary tale about the fragility of civil liberties in times of national crisis. Whether leftist or right-wing, the real casualty was the freedom to question power without being branded a traitor. 

Today, Kirk’s assassination has reignited calls for hate speech laws, with figures including President Trump urging investigations into “left-wing groups.” Such proposals risk repeating history’s errors of weaponizing fear to justify censorship and violating the First Amendment’s ban on content-based restrictions. As Brandenburg v. Ohio (1969) affirmed, speech may only be curtailed when it incites imminent lawless action. Yet even this standard, while protective, may be historically naïve. The Founders themselves used fiery rhetoric—Paine, Henry, and Jefferson—to stir revolutionary fervor that led to armed resistance. Punishing even vile expressions, even the grotesque cheering of Kirk’s death, breaches the non-aggression principle by invoking state force to suppress God-given liberty (Genesis 1:27). Christians and libertarians alike must resist this coercion, defending a government limited to its ordained role (Romans 13:1–7), not as moral arbiter, but as protector of peace and justice.

As tensions continue to rise, Attorney General Pam Bondi announced that the Justice Department would “absolutely target” individuals engaging in hate speech, a stance that further blurs  the line between protected expression and prosecutable offense. Her remarks extended to private businesses, including threats of prosecution against an Office Depot employee who refused to print memorial posters for Kirk. While Bondi later clarified she meant speech that “crosses into threats of violence,” her initial framing sparked backlash, even from conservative commentators, who warned that such rhetoric undermines First Amendment protections. Ironically, Kirk himself had previously affirmed that “hate speech does not exist legally in America,” underscoring the tension between honoring his legacy and expanding state power.

Community-driven censorship, though not state-enforced, is equally insidious. In the 1830s and 1840s, Southern communities suppressed abolitionist literature through vigilante actions, such as the 1837 destruction of Elijah Lovejoy’s printing press, and postal refusals to deliver anti-slavery materials. Fear of slave rebellions drove this social coercion, silencing dissent without formal laws. Modern parallels abound: after Kirk’s death, individuals faced firings over social media posts deemed insensitive, reflecting a culture of conformity. 

In 1835, Amos Dresser, a theology student from Oberlin College, was arrested by a Nashville, Tennessee, vigilance committee while selling anti-slavery literature. Lacking formal legal authority, the committee sentenced him to a public whipping of twenty lashes for possessing and distributing abolitionist tracts. Dresser later recounted in a letter to The Liberator: “I was whipped like a felon, not for any breach of law, but for the expression of opinion.” This example illustrates how community-driven coercion, fueled by fear, can suppress dissent more brutally than state action, echoing modern risks of social silencing post-Kirk.

This story is a chilling example of how community-driven censorship, fueled by fear and enforced through social violence, can suppress dissent even more brutally than the state. It echoes the dangers of modern firings and reputational destruction for unpopular speech. 

While some defend these modern actions as expressions of free association, they come dangerously close to crossing into coercion, violating the non-aggression principle when social pressure becomes a punitive force. True liberty demands more than legal restraint; it requires cultural tolerance for dissent, even when that dissent is uncomfortable.

On platforms like X, users increasingly self-censor to avoid reputational backlash, stifling open discourse before it begins. This reflects a deeper libertarian concern: that coercive social norms, though not enforced by the state, can still undermine voluntary association and free expression. When fear replaces freedom, the spontaneous order of the marketplace of ideas collapses. Truth no longer emerges through honest exchange, but is curated by cultural gatekeepers. Libertarians and Christians must resist this drift toward silencing, championing dialogue over dogma and ensuring that even controversial voices are heard, not because they are agreeable, but because liberty demands it.

Protecting Christian witness is central to this fight. Kirk’s bold, faith-based advocacy often drew accusations of “hate speech” for addressing moral issues. Scripture calls believers to speak truth graciously (Ephesians 4:29) and defend faith gently (1 Peter 3:15). Yet, Psalm 97:10 urges us to “hate evil,” defined not as persons but as spiritual forces and actions like violence or censorship (Ephesians 6:12). Matthew 5:44 further commands us to pray for enemies, including those pushing restrictive laws or even Kirk’s suspected assassin, Tyler Robinson. 

This balance—opposing evil while loving individuals—aligns with the libertarian non-aggression principle, rejecting coercion against persons while defending liberty. Christians face growing risks, as gospel proclamation is mislabeled divisive, inviting state or social censorship. Kirk’s death warns of the consequences when Christian voices are targeted. Believers must speak boldly, pray for adversaries, and engage voluntarily to counter harmful ideas, modeling Christ’s redemptive love.

The Supreme Court has not always protected free speech. In Schenck v. United States (1919), it upheld convictions for anti-war speech under the Espionage Act, using a flawed “clear and present danger” test that enabled state coercion. Similarly, Dennis v. United States (1951) prioritized anti-communist fears over liberty. Later rulings, like Brandenburg v. Ohio (1969) and Texas v. Johnson (1989), corrected these errors, limiting restrictions to imminent threats. 

Yet, dissenting opinions in Citizens United v. FEC (2010) favoring broader regulation signal ongoing risks. These missteps underscore the libertarian warning against state power encroaching on individual freedom, a lesson for today’s hate speech debates post-Kirk.

The founding era offers a model of robust free speech. Pamphlets like Thomas Paine’s Common Sense didn’t just critique monarchy—they fueled revolution, tolerated even when they stirred unrest. Patrick Henry’s cry of “Give me liberty or give me death” was no metaphor; it was a rallying cry for armed defiance. The Alien and Sedition Acts of 1798, which punished anti-government speech, were widely opposed and allowed to expire, affirming the Founders’ commitment to liberty, even when speech provoked upheaval. In contrast to modern sensitivities, this vision encourages us to resist restrictive laws and social silencing that have emerged in Kirk’s wake, thereby preserving open dissent as a precious inheritance.

If we empower the state to define and punish “hate,” we must recognize that biblical truth is already being labeled as bigotry in cultural and legal arenas. Today’s protections become tomorrow’s persecutions, not hypothetically, but historically. Christians must resist the temptation to swing the pendulum in the opposite direction, using state power to silence opposing views. Liberty is not preserved by trading one form of coercion for another. Instead, we are called to speak truth boldly, love sacrificially, and engage freely, trusting that the gospel’s power lies not in cultural dominance, but in redemptive witness. In Kirk’s wake, let us defend the freedom to proclaim Christ without fear, and refuse to become what we once opposed.

Kirk’s assassination demands a response rooted in principle. Government censorship violates limited government and the First Amendment. Community censorship can undermine voluntary association and the spontaneous order of ideas. Christian witness, balancing truth and love, faces threats from misapplied “hate speech” labels. Libertarians and Christians must oppose evil, while praying for enemies (Proverbs 15:1, Matthew 5:44). We should engage through letters to legislators and public forums, fostering dialogue over division. Kirk’s legacy and the Founders’ vision call us to defend free speech as a bulwark against tyranny, ensuring liberty and truth prevail.

Jesus, as the Creator of the Earth and Mankind, completely understands how human beings should interact with each other. In His parables, Jesus used what the normal people of the day understood to be true about the natural world to explain aspects of the kingdom of heaven. In Matthew 20 in the Parable Of The Laborers In The Vineyard, Jesus uses parts of natural economic law like the legitimacy of private property, subjective value theory, and property based natural rights, in order to teach about God’s kingdom.

Later in Matthew 25 and also Luke 19, He tells another parable where He uses natural economic law again to explain truth about God’s spiritual kingdom. This parable is commonly called the Parable Of The Talents or Minas. Using the English word “talent” makes some think Jesus is talking about a person’s skills, capabilities, and expertise. Anytime we see someone accomplish something great, it is normal to think, “wow, that person is so talented!”  However, the word “talent” in our English translations does not refer to how skilled people are at different activities. Let’s investigate further.

In Matthew 25:15, Jesus speaks of a master handing out “talents” to his slaves. A “talent” is transliterated from the Greek word ταλαντον, which originally meant the scale of a balance. It later came to mean “something that is weighed”, and then a specific unit of weight for gold or silver. A Roman talanton of gold weighed 55 lbs or 80 lbs depending on the source. A Jewish talanton weighed about 113 pounds 10 ounces in silver. In the time of Jesus, a talanton was roughly equal to 60 minas or 1500 days (roughly 4 years) of labor. The Bible commentary and Greek lexicon I consulted said it was worth about $1000. However, when I did a basic search online, it showed the value of a silver Roman talent in the 1st Century AD was about 32,300 sesterces, which calculates to about  $100,000. Regardless of how we estimate the exact amount in today’s valuation, this is a significant quantity of money.

In Luke 19, it is easier to tell that Jesus is talking about money, because He describes a nobleman giving “minas” to his servants. Mina is the transliteration of the Greek word μνα, which was the name of a silver coin that weighed about 12 ounces. It was worth about 25 days of labor during the life of Jesus. That is roughly a month’s wages for a common laborer. Both names for currency in the parables represent different weights of gold or silver, though the units changed over time and geography. 

The slaves who made a profit with the money given to them did so when they “traded with them”, ergazomai (ἐργάζομαι), meaning they put the money to work. There were a variety of ways to do this in the ancient world in the areas of agriculture and trades. So the faithful slave would do something like buy a field and seed, which he could turn into a profitable crop. Or he could purchase animals to produce a large herd of cattle, sheep, or goats. Then he could sell the wool, milk, and meat to make a profit. A faithful slave could have also bought tools and raw materials to make different implements by hand like tents, chairs, tables, carriages, houses, jewelry, iron works, silver utensils, etc. Even if the slave had no trade skills he could have hired those who did and employed them to make and sell the same types of goods. The list of options would have been very long, even in Jesus’ time. The economic success of each slave would be dependent on the price of raw materials, production process efficiency, value to customers, and the entrepreneurial insight of the slave. The most important factor is entrepreneurship because it combines all the other factors to direct the money and capital goods to produce a new product with a higher marginal utility compared to the other products available in the market at the time, or other potential new products.

From the master’s response (vv. 19-23), we see that entrepreneurship, economic development, profit are good things. Jesus wouldn’t have used this example in his parable if this weren’t true. Providing either new, better, or less expensive products to people makes their life materially better. Jesus teaches that the same basic precept exists in the spiritual world too. Believers in Jesus should be spiritually productive just as we can be economically productive. Christians shouldn’t have the anti-capitalist mentality like so many have in our day. Profit is a good thing. But let’s not neglect the spiritual aspect of our lives either, where we can excel in the subjects of sanctification, theology, evangelization, charity, and service to our church and community.

Another truth about the natural world that Jesus illuminates in these parables is that diversity or differentiation of people is natural and good. The master entrusts different amounts of money to his servants based on his assessment of their ability, so I guess talent is involved in the parables after all. He doesn’t give them all the same amount of money. He doesn’t expect each slave to produce the same exact amount of gain. He gives more resources and responsibility to those who are better at the task at hand. But He also doesn’t leave anyone out. Everyone gets money to work with and tasks to complete to build the wealth of the master. We see God do the same thing spiritually. Some people are more gifted than others to carry out ministry, but everyone has a role which is to be valued and respected (see 1 Corinthians 12). I discuss this issue in more detail in this article on Ordered Individualism. In these parables, you see the kind of social hierarchy commonly called meritocracy or natural aristocracy. It is not rigid or highly formalized. It can’t be passed down to children or kept within a certain social class. It is something that God supervises by gifting individuals, naturally and spiritually.

Jesus emphasizes this truth when he gives the 1 talent from the lazy slave to the slave who already had 10 talents (of money). He didn’t even split it among the remaining faithful slaves. The one who demonstrates the greatest yield on his investment gets more than the other productive slaves. This is the opposite of the notion of social egalitarianism on which the ideologies of Socialism, Communism, and Critical Theory are built.

In both parables, the nobleman tells the wicked servant that he should have put the money allotted to him in the bank. Similar words are used in the two parables. In Matthew 25, the word for bank is trapezites (τραπεζίτης), which has a narrow scope meaning a banker, broker, or money changer. In Luke 19, the word for bank is trapeza (τραπεζα). The most basic meaning of that word is for a table or the food that goes on a table. But in context, it means the table of a money lender. Both parables also use the same word for interest, tokos (τόκος)  The broad definition is something brought forth or offspring. On the subject of money lending it means the profit resulting from the loan, called usury or interest.

The nobleman says the wicked slave should have given his money to a banker and earned profit by interest. That option isn’t presented as good as direct entrepreneurial action. However, producing income from usury is presented as the next best outcome. 

But isn’t usury a bad thing?  For a long time in church history, church leaders forbade any Christian from charging interest or usury in any amount for any reason. Today, the New Right (including ethno-nationalists, Christians Nationalists, and Catholic Integrationists) presents usury as an evil that certain groups have introduced into our economy. They want to go back to the earlier prohibitions. Who should we listen to, Jesus in His parables or theologians from years past?

It wasn’t until the 16th Century that the Spanish Scholastics of the School of Salamanca started to develop economic theory and decide that it was moral to charge interest on loans. They approached the subject from a philosophical basis. I think their logic was reasonable, for example, they also correctly formulated that economic value is subjective. A concept that the Austrians adopted and developed further. Just as the Spanish Scholastics said charging interest on loans was acceptable, we see that Jesus presented gaining usury as a positive outcome in these parables. There are some other Biblical passages that potentially put charging usury in a different light, so we need to think through the question carefully.

First, the parables in Matthew 25 and Luke 19 are examples showing positive statements about usury. There is also Proverbs 28:8, which presents charging interest in a positive light when the money made via the interest is used to give charity to the poor. From this example, we see that for the subject of usury, the end (almsgiving) can justify the means (charging interest).

Several passages in the Old Testament prohibit Israel from charging interest on loans to the poor. These passages don’t apply to every instance, but as a means of protecting the poor from oppression. Exodus 22:25 specifies that no one in Israel should charge interest to a poor man whether you loan money, food, or clothing. The language in Leviticus 25:35-37 is similar where it says, “do not take usurious interest from him (the poor man)”, but “you are to sustain him.”

You also see the same principle in Nehemiah 5 where people are taking advantage of the poor in Jerusalem. Parents were selling their children into slavery and their fields to others for food out of desperation. The poor were borrowing money to pay taxes and grain to feed themselves, and the lender was charging interest. The problem that Nehemiah saw was not simply charging interest, but charging interest on those who were so poor that they were desperate and starving. It should be clear that the Biblical principle is that we shouldn’t charge interest to those who need help for subsistence or to pay for immediate needs. But that is not the situation Jesus describes in Matthew 25 and Luke 19. He is describing a situation where loaning money is a way to generate new or expanded economic activity.

There are a few passages that prohibit charging interest without a specific context. Psalm 15 mentions a righteous man that doesn’t lend his money at interest. That doesn’t mean that lending money at interest is unrighteous, but more that a righteous person genuinely looks to help others and take care of others. The Psalm represents one example of a righteous man. It is not a universal commandment. Plus the Psalms use poetic language so interpretation has to take genre into account.

The two passages that sound the most negative are Ezekiel 18 and Deuteronomy 23:19-20. Ezekiel says that charging interest is a sin without adding a direct condition. However, he does imbed this statement within a list of sinful behaviors. Several of the sins refer to oppressing the poor. So this could be an indirect reference to the same situations found in Exodus, Leviticus, and Nehemiah. In Deuteronomy 23:19-20, there is a law for which there is no direct or indirect condition. Comparing these two examples to the other occurrences, it seems more like a particular law for Israel than a universal moral law that Christians need to follow today. Examining the different passages shows that usury isn’t a bad thing in principle, but a tool that can be used to oppress the poor. Yet, at the same time it is a tool that can lead to economic growth and improved material wealth in society, even as a source of aid for the poor. 

To summarize, we learn natural law from what the Bible says about humanity and the creation including Jesus’ parables, because He uses truth about the natural world to teach us about His spiritual kingdom. Jesus bases His parables about the talents and the minas on the economic truth that money is a measurable weight of a physical commodity like gold or silver. He teaches that charging interest on loans is a moral activity because it is economically productive, when it isn’t used to take advantage of the poor. Lastly, Jesus teaches that society should not be built on the concept of equity, egalitarianism or equality of outcome, but on meritocracy based on the talents of the individual.

The recently released horror movie Weapons reminded me of how easily human beings, even the most innocent among us, can be shaped into living instruments of death by the powerful and manipulative. Yet, true to Hollywood’s habits, the story ultimately resorts to murder as the only answer to unchecked violence. It is also telling that even liberal storytellers often fall back on the old pattern of destroying the “witch” in order to protect the innocent.

In recent weeks, the world has witnessed a disturbing series of violent acts committed by individuals of different backgrounds. Robin Westman, a transgender individual, shot and killed two children at a Catholic church in Minneapolis. Decarlos Brown Jr., a black man, slit the throat of a Ukrainian woman in a subway train in Charlotte, North Carolina. Daniel Raab, an Israeli sniper, shot and killed two unarmed Palestinians in Gaza from a distance. At first glance these killings appear unrelated, yet the response to them has followed a familiar pattern. Each event has been seized upon to demonize entire groups of people. Westman’s crime has been used to attack transgenders, Brown’s crime to strike blacks, and Raab’s crime to denounce Israelis.

There is an element of truth in these targeted narratives, but the social solution promoted by governments, commentators, and influencers is not unity but scapegoating. René Girard, the French thinker who analyzed the origins of human violence, showed that scapegoating is one of the oldest strategies societies use to manage chaos. By directing rage onto one individual or group, communities in crisis achieve temporary unity. Yet the world after Christ is different. The Gospels expose the mechanism of scapegoating and reveal its injustice. In modern societies haunted by this revelation, scapegoating no longer works to bring peace. It only intensifies division and creates new cycles of hatred.

The Apostle Paul wrote in Ephesians 6:12: “For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” This verse captures the heart of the matter. Evil does not lie in particular races, genders, or nationalities. It emerges from the spiritual disorder that afflicts all human beings. The crucifixion of Christ shows us that when societies unite around a scapegoat, they are actually revealing their inability to face their own violence. Christ’s death unmasks the futility of catharsis through sacrifice. What once produced unity now generates deeper fragmentation.

Does this mean we should release criminals and abandon justice? Not at all. But we are called to recognize that the roots of violence go beyond the individual acts themselves. When society tolerates systemic evils such as economic exploitation, unjust wars, family breakdown, idolatry, and the neglect of children and the elderly, it creates fertile ground for chaotic violence. To laugh off or normalize such violence is to accept a world where disorder becomes the new normal.

The cases of Westman, Brown, and Raab illustrate this point. Westman left behind a drawing of himself staring into a mirror where a demon stared back. His weapons were marked with contradictory ideological slogans, all of which called for death to multiply. Brown, a demented racist let loose by an equally demented justice system, claimed that an external force compelled him to commit his crime. Raab’s IDF unit proudly carries insignia marked with devil’s horns and a tail. Whether conscious or not, satanic imagery permeates the killers’ lives and actions. These symbols call attention to how violence often carries with it a demonic contagion, pulling others into the cycle of destruction.

To confront such violence, we must think like exorcists. A true exorcist does not scapegoat or destroy the possessed but seeks to drive out the evil. In the same way, society must learn to separate human beings from the destructive forces that consume them. Empathy must extend not only to the victims of violence but also to the perpetrators, who are often themselves trapped in cycles of possession and despair (Matthew 5:44, Romans 12:14, 1 Peter 3:9). At the same time, we must confront the broader structures of socially accepted violence that legitimize disorder (James 4:7, Jude 1:9, Zachariah 3:2). The existence of whites, blacks, Israelis, or transgender people is not the cause of evil. The real cause is sin, which in biblical terms means “missing the mark.” The mark is theosis, the transformation into Christlike humanity.

Modern culture insists that human beings can become good without God. The killings we witness show the limits of that belief. Without a transcendent source of goodness, we are left with tribalism, scapegoating, and endless cycles of revenge. Modernity reduces people to categories of race, gender, politics, or creed, which makes scapegoating easier. The Christian revelation offers a different perspective: each human being is created in the image of God, not a stereotype or an enemy.

Neither racial supremacy, nor Zionism, nor political ideology can save us from violence. They are all forms of bondage to materialism. Violence is becoming normalized in plain sight. Charlie Kirk was recently shot dead in public, and many on the political left cheered the act. This normalization of chaos is precisely what the cross of Christ warns us against. The anthropological truth of the crucifixion lies before us: scapegoating will not heal our societies, and violence cannot be redeemed by more violence. Unless we recognize this truth, we ignore it at our own peril.

Many years ago, I saw a bumper sticker that read, “The Christian Right is Neither.” At the time I dismissed it as leftist rhetoric and taunting people of faith. In recent years, I have begun to question if I still feel the same way, though I still acknowledge many concerns held by social conservatives, including abortion.

The reason I now question those on the religious right is that it does not appear that they approach the concerns of morality in society from a holistic approach or as the Apostle Paul would say in Acts 20:27, from “the whole counsel of God.” A good example of this is a remark made in the past year by Shawn Carney, a prominent figure in the pro-life movement who founded the 40 Days for Life outreach ministry. He stated that early in the 2016 presidential cycle he was eager to back Donald Trump while somehow being dismissive of other pro-lifers who had concerns over his marital infidelity. This is striking considering that Carney is committed to a ministry that champions the adherence to the sixth commandment but can take the seventh commandment so lightly. There is also a practical aspect that applies here which this gentleman who is so committed to the cause for life should consider. He, like all of us, should think realistically how likely it is that when a pregnancy arises from an instance of marital infidelity that the unborn child’s life will be spared.

Going back ten years to when Donald Trump made his famous descent down the Golden Escalator at Trump Plaza to mark his candidacy for president, anyone with open eyes and ears has observed his ongoing indecency. Sadly, many in the church have dismissed him as being “rough around the edges” and have downplayed him in respect to his verbal conduct as simply having a “potty mouth.” Regarding the comment as revealed on Access Hollywood during his first campaign in which he boasted about being able to get away with groping women, many have dismissed this as mere “locker room talk.”

Also striking are the bizarre comments regarding Trump coming from conservative voices like podcaster Steve Deace who equated Trump as a modern day John the Baptist. Then there’s Jim Caviezal, the actor who portrayed Jesus in the Passion of the Christ likening Trump to “the New Moses.” Also, chilling to many was a campaign video that glorified Trump from his childhood as one “given by God” portraying him as a messianic figure who will be a champion for our nation.

Somehow overlooked are comments he has made that should be alarming to Christians. On numerous occasions he has spoken with disdain to military servicemen including Nikki Haley’s husband while running against her in the 2024 Republican Primary. He has made sexist remarks towards her and his other female opponents in the past. When questioned by Megan Kelly in the 2016 presidential debate about derogatory remarks he made towards women for example when he labeled some as “fat pigs,” he shamelessly responded by saying, “only Rosie O’Donnell.” During these debates he even insulted his opponent Jeb Bush’s mother, Barbara Bush. Further proof of his shamelessness was after the trial last year that found him guilty of business fraud for covering up his affair with porn star, Stormy Daniels, he claimed that he was completely innocent.

From the beginning, he has made constant attempts to draw attention to himself with grandiose plans like “Making America Great Again” and ending the war between Ukraine and Russia on day one of his new term. The Bible makes it clear how God views this form of boasting. James 4:16 is a good example which says, “As it is, you boast in your arrogance. All such boasting is evil.” Then in Matthew 23:12, Jesus tells us the following: For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”

As time has gone on, his rhetoric has become downright hateful. Trump has claimed that the immigrants are “polluting the culture.” This I find interesting considering his rhetoric and personal record of immorality especially now that his close relationship with Jeffey Epstein has been revealed which he so desperately wants to cover up. We can also look back to the presidential debate with Kamala Harris when he falsely claimed that the Haitian Immigrants were eating cats and dogs. Another dehumanizing and downright disturbing comment made by him towards the immigrants is that they are “poisoning the lifeblood of America.” Still concerning to me from last year’s campaign were his intentions to “round them up” especially now seeing the heinous actions being taken by ICE agents to seize immigrants even at their places of worship on Sundays.

Regarding his incendiary remarks, this should be a concern for all Christians knowing that Jesus abhorred hate speech and went so far as to say those who engage in it are murderers (Matthew 5:22).

With a concern for morality in mind, many in the church should have paid closer attention to remarks made by Trump in the last presidential campaign. While on Fox News, he said, “just let me get in there, I’ll be a dictator for a day.” Anyone who has paid attention to these initial months of his second term can plainly see that he has no regard for our constitution and the rule of law  as seen with the ways he has subverted the role of congress with his trade initiatives as an example and by illegally firing thousands of Federal employees. What also should have been alarming, especially to Christians who should know from scripture that vengeance belongs to the Lord where Trump’s clear intentions of getting revenge on his political enemies in his second term. In March of 2023 he added to his campaign promise from 2016 in which he said, “I am your voice,” by going on to say: “I am your warrior. I am your justice.” then saying, “I am your retribution.”

Though Trump has been viewed by many as a champion for life, those who make this claim have a seemingly limited perspective on the sanctity of life. What seems to be overlooked by those in the “Pro Family” movement is that already in this administration, as I alluded to, the  numerous immigrants who are indeed being wrongly and unlawfully deported. Though while campaigning on mass deportation, Trump did not reveal at the time that he would pay the government of El Salvador to house immigrants or use Guantanamo Bay to hold immigrants either. Granted, while the courts have at least for the time halted construction of Alligator Alcatraz in the Florida Everglades, the administration recently made efforts to redirect federal spending priorities to fund the project. For those concerned about morality, their eyes should be opened to see that this along with his other authoritarian actions are right out of Nazi Germany.

While Christians aim to be right when it comes to pointing out immorality in society, it is vitally necessary to take the whole account of scripture and history in account when determining what is indeed right. Also, as a closing thought God warned His people in the Old Testament about forming unholy alliances and the importance of being properly yoked to avoid corruption and maintain purity. By championing Donald Trump it is clear that the religious right have ignored God’s instructions in this regard.

August 20th, 2025 marks Dr. Ron Paul’s 90th birthday. Happy birthday Dr. Paul!

I had the distinct privilege of attending Ron Paul’s 90th Birthday Bash in Lake Jackson, Texas on August 10, a couple Saturdays back. The atmosphere was electric with excitement, with so many old friends reconnecting. It struck me how it was a kind of “family reunion” of liberty activists across the USA (but especially Texas) over the last 20 years of my life (and decades more for a few who have been around far longer than I have). We were all celebrating a man whose words and actions have inspired us to promote liberty, and what a great time it was.

So now, I want to honor Dr. Paul’s legacy by revisiting ten of my favorite Ron Paul quotes. Thank you Ron!

1. “Truth is treason in the empire of lies.”

This phrase captures Ron Paul’s prophetic edge. Speaking truth to power often comes at a cost, but Paul never flinched. Deception may be the common currency of politics, but he insists otherwise. To those who understand what Ron Paul stands for, fidelity to truth is an act of resistance.
Source: The Revolution: A Manifesto (2008), p. 167

2. “Have you ever read the reasons they attacked us? They attack us because we’ve been over there; we’ve been bombing Iraq for 10 years.”

When Paul made this statement about blowback in the legendary 2007 debate, Rudy Giuliani demanded a retraction. Instead, Paul appropriately doubled down, calmly pointing out what foreign policy realists had long known. The truth was on Ron’s side, and it was a watershed moment—Ron Paul educating the nation on live television about the consequences of interventionism. When you hear people say “Ron Paul cured my apathy”, they often flipped a switch in that small moment.
Source: 2008 GOP Presidential Debate, South Carolina, May 15, 2007

3. “Life begins at conception. It is not a legal or political issue—it is a moral issue.”

As an OB-GYN who delivered over 4,000 babies, Paul’s pro-life stance was deeply informed by experience. His position was principled: defending life at its most vulnerable is consistent with defending liberty.
Source: Liberty Defined (2011), Ch. 45 – Abortion

4. “The only way racism can be overcome is through the philosophy of individualism, which I have promoted throughout my life. Our rights come to us not because be belong to some group, but our rights come to us as individuals. Racism is a particularly odious form of collectivism.”

The simple decency of Dr. Paul reminds us that treating each other as individuals is how we can break the negative cycles of race divisions.
Source: The Revolution: A Manifesto (2008)

5. “End the Fed.”

The rallying cry of a movement. With these three words, Paul helps us pierce the veil of central banking. He exposed the Federal Reserve as a source of inflation, debt, and endless war financing. It’s not just “reform monetary policy” or “get more efficient”, we need to start anew, and abolish that which impoverishes future generations. Few phrases have galvanized liberty activism quite like this one.
Source: An entire career of consistent truth-telling.

6. “Deficits mean future tax increases, pure and simple.”

Long before today’s debt crisis became undeniable, Ron Paul was warning us. Borrowing against the future is nothing more than deferred theft from the next generation.
Source: House Floor Speech, 1983 (and other speeches)

7. “Liberty comes from our Creator, not from government.”

Paul consistently rooted his defense of liberty in a theological truth: rights are God-given, not state-granted. This undergirds who Ron is, and Ron reminds us that the purpose of government, if it is to exist at all, is to protect God-given rights, not dispense them.
Source: Misc. speech excerpts and campaign addresses

8. “A system that steals from the poor and gives to the rich is not capitalism—it’s cronyism.”

Paul never confused genuine free markets with the corrupt alliances of big business and big government. By making this distinction clear, he preserved the moral integrity of capitalism while denouncing its counterfeits.
Source: Liberty Defined (2011)

9. “You don’t have a right to your neighbor’s stuff.”

Whether on the playground or in Congress, theft is wrong—even when dressed up as wealth redistribution. Ron has a knack for conveying timeless moral truths as common sense philosophy.
Source: Liberty Defined (2011)

10. “A message whose time has come cannot be stopped by bullets or force.”

This one is a new favorite, a line delivered in Ron’s speech at the 90th birthday bash. And this is the reality of the philosophy of individual liberty. We humans are stoppable, but ideas are bulletproof. This torch we carry on.
Source: 2012 GOP Presidential Debate, September 22, 2011.

Attending Dr. Paul’s 90th birthday celebration reminded me just how enduring his influence has been. He never sought power for his own sake, but rather sought to awaken people to the possibilities of liberty.

Happy 90th birthday, Dr. Paul. Thank you for your courage, your integrity, and your legacy.

Coercion is the opposite of a live-and-let-live attitude. And our current American governmental coercion enforces subjugation and imposes laws and taxation on unwilling, unconsenting individuals. To vote is to participate in this process, enabling governments to claim a “mandate” for their coercive activities. Thus, voting is inconsistent with libertarian ideas.

“The fact is that the average man’s love of liberty is nine-tenths imaginary, exactly like his love of sense, justice and truth. He is not actually happy when free; he is uncomfortable, a bit alarmed, and intolerably lonely. Liberty is not a thing for the great masses of men…like knowledge, courage and honor. It takes a special sort of man to understand and enjoy liberty — and he is usually an outlaw in democratic societies.”
H.L. Mencken, Baltimore Evening Sun 12 February 1923

Libertarian voters claim they want to remove government tyranny, but if they attempt to do so via voting then they are forcing their ways on others. Most people do not want liberty or freedom; in fact, they often not only desire to be part of a collective mass of people swayed, manipulated, and  “protected” by a “state,” but they also want others forced into the same mold. This is where libertarians should differ from Republicans and Democrats, who do seek to control others.

We universally agree it is immoral if one person forces another to do his will when it is against their own. Unfortunately, this principle is forgotten when election time comes. If someone desires to control another, he can vote, or worse, make a good living by entering politics. Democracy creates an entire tax-funded system of bullying. It is not a loving but a mean system of governance.

To enter into politics via voting, we are joining a war that is opposed to libertarian ideas. To force our ways on others who do not desire it. Even if what we are trying to impose is our view of liberty and freedom, if that is not what they want, it is tyranny; it is government coercion; it is prideful to levy our ways on others. God does not impose His way on us; He gives us the chance to choose Him as Lord.

Democracy indulges the worst part of human nature; the desire to rule others. It brings out the Saruman and Sauron within us as we seek to use the One Ring – or in our case government power – to coerce others to do our bidding. It is a corrupt, backward, and oppressive system.

Voting is not about getting the government you desire; it is more about preventing others from having theirs. It propagates a mindset saying we must fight over Tolkien’s “One Ring to Rule them all.” We puritanically believe we are better than the other dumb peasants, those who do not vote like us. So we must vote to coerce them away from their self-governance and into our mold. Democracy is one big war of people denying each other self-rule.

One thing I won’t be doing is voting or attempting to force my way on others; instead, I will follow the golden rule and treat others the way I want them to treat me. I do not want others to use government coercion and power to force me to do what I don’t desire or support what I would otherwise not, and even though they will continue to do that, from now on I choose to turn the other cheek and not repay evil for evil.

And the LORD said to Samuel, “Listen to the voice of the people regarding all that they say to you, because they have not rejected you, but they have rejected Me from being King over them. – 1 Samuel 8:7

In February, President Donald Trump signed an Executive Order to establish the White House Faith Office (WHFO), which, although new in name, has existed in some form since 2001.The White House fact sheet outlines the office’s goals: empowering faith-based entities to serve families and communities, advising the President on policies to be aligned with American values, coordinating religious liberty training, promoting grant opportunities, and working with the Attorney General to enforce constitutional and Federal protections for religious liberty.

At face value, most Christians will view this, along with President Trump’s other executive orders and actions, as positive. It’s not until we examine things through a Biblical and historical lens that we see the cracks start to form. Although many Christian groups would like us to accept that our country was founded as a Christian Nation it simply isn’t true, it was intentionally founded by Christians for the reason of maintaining religious liberty.  In 1797, President John Adams signed the Treaty of Tripoli, which was unanimously ratified by the Senate, stating, “The government of the United States is not, in any sense, founded on the Christian religion.” As Adams explained in a letter to Benjamin Rush, the founders sought separation because “nothing is more dreaded than the national government meddling with religion.”

The Baptist Philadelphia Association in 1774 rightly concluded, “Jesus Christ is the only Lord of conscience, and hath left it free from the doctrines and commandments of men.” In 1773 Baptist minister Isaac Backus proclaimed, “Government has no more to do with the religious opinions of men than it has with the principles of mathematics.” During our nation’s formation, the founding fathers, religious leaders, and citizens recognized the need to separate church and state, not to exclude God, but to guarantee people’s freedom to worship Him and acknowledge His sovereignty.

The wise men of that age arrived at these positions by applying scripture. Jesus was clear that we should pay the state the things that are the states and to God the things that are God’s. Here, it is clear that Jesus was referring to money, and I don’t want to speculate where the Bible is silent; however, when we consider this in conjunction with John 18:36, ‘My Kingdom is not of this world…’, we gain a fuller in understanding of God’s kingdom being separate from the kingdoms of men. Government and the church are separate spheres of influence that, for the preservation of the church, must remain separate.

To further emphasize this point, consider that Christians have been given spiritual authority, not earthly authority, as seen in 2 Corinthians 10:3-4, which states, “…for the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh…”, and Ephesians 6:12, which says, “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but…against the spiritual forces…” We have been entrusted with a mission that operates independently of the world, as stated in Acts 5:29, “We must obey God rather than men,” and 1 Peter 2:9, “But you are a chosen race…a people for God’s own possession so that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him.” Furthermore, God warns His church not to become entangled with the world, as mentioned in James 4:4 and 1 John 2:15-16.In contrast, scripture, specifically Romans 13, states that the role of government is to bear the sword, avenging those who practice evil. 

Outside of the kingdom of Israel the Word of God specifies no direct role of government towards the church. In fact, the responsibility is on Christians to pray for our elected officials (this is again in line with our spiritual authority). Considering all these things we should not be celebrating the creation of a WHFO, in fact Christians should be a voice against its existence. If we don’t reject this, we allow the government to erode our reliance on Jesus, and replace it with the comfort of the state. Then we are headed down a road that leads to rejecting God as our king, and opening the door to repeat historical evils committed by states under the guise of Christianity. 

Historically, mixing state and religion has led to poor outcomes, almost always resulting in violence. The “Christian” guidance of the WHFO has already led to the killing of a Lebanese man. According to a report in the Christian Post, during a visit to the White House by evangelical leaders, it was relayed by Pastor Josh Howerton, that the administration took action on behalf of a Christian counterterrorism official against a man believed to be persecuting Christians abroad. President Trump green lit the military and within 24 hours of receiving the intelligence the man was dead. 

I understand someone could look back at my previous paragraph and argue that this is the role of the state.  If someone was violently persecuting any group within the United States or its territories, the government would have a duty to arrest and try them. Would the same people who make that argument be pleased if the next President of the United States filled the office with a Muslim officer who wanted the military to attack Chinese forces persecuting Muslims? The military should not serve as an arm of any religion. Although I’m glad Christians in Lebanon are possibly free from persecution, I’m uncomfortable with our government carrying out military acts in the name of my faith. If we allow this, how far are we from jailing people in the United States for ‘persecuting Christians’?

History gives us a wealth of reasons to reject this! The Spanish Inquisition and the Crusades still harm Christian witness to this day.  England’s Test Act mixed government and religion so horrendously that it barred Catholics and religious minorities from civic participation until the 19th century. Louis XIV made Catholicism mandatory, and exiled Protestants. The Ottomans forcibly removed children from Christian families and trained them to be Islamic soldiers. More modern examples include Iran, Saudi Arabia, and Myanmar, all states that have allowed religion to be intertwined with the government and strictly enforce religious convictions upon their citizenry.

Examining our own country’s history provides further evidence against these types of offices.The Puritans enacted laws mandating church attendance, with fines for missing services. Blasphemy was punishable by death, and heretical beliefs could result in banishment or execution. Well-meaning Christians, through the government, enacted policies such as Prohibition, anti-Catholic immigration laws, Sunday closing laws, Comstock laws, restrictions on dancing and entertainment, and Native American assimilation programs, which involved removing children from their families and indoctrinating them. The office, recently rebranded by President Trump, has been used by past Presidents to allocate $2.2 billion to faith-based groups and promote COVID policies and vaccination through churches.

Upon further exploration of history, we should examine how government offices and policies have affected the groups or industries they aimed to protect. As Ronald Reagan said in 1986, “The nine most terrifying words in the English language are : I’m here from the government and I’m here to help.” The laws establishing Native American reservations, intended to protect against westward expansion, ultimately isolated tribes and created a dependency on the federal government. The state argued that Jim Crow laws were to protect African Americans from violence. Intended to safeguard their health, labor protection laws for women ultimately excluded them from higher-paying jobs and advancement opportunities. We should reject government “protection” because it often backfires on those it’s intended to help, and it mistakenly shifts our reliance from God to the state.

Christians and Christian leaders must stand up against the church being used as a partisan tool to secure votes, support legislation, and influence policy making. Independence from state power is essential for Christianity’s prophetic voice, lest we allow politicians of any party to replace God the Father as our protector, thereby weakening our national witness. We can only pray that as the WHOF moves forward it doesn’t lead to the suppression of religious minorities. The church in America is currently at a turning point, where we must choose between grasping the spiritual authority given to us by God or standing with the government on the high mountain, accepting the lie that promises, “All this I will give to you.”

To say that the New Testament has some negative things to say about the wealthy would be an understatement:

“It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God” (Mt. 19:24, KJV).

“Woe unto you that are rich! for ye have received your consolation” (Lk. 6:20, KJV)!

“Do not rich men oppress you, and draw you before the judgment seats” (Jas. 2:6, KJV)?

“He hath filled the hungry with good things; and the rich he hath sent empty away” (Lk. 1:53, KJV).

From a reading of these verses alone, it would be reasonable to conclude that wealth is a grave sin, that having money is a form of oppression against those who have not, and that no rich people will be allowed into heaven. But then what should we do with New Testament passages that speak of some wealthy Christians in a positive light? What about Lydia, the merchant who opened up her house to Paul and Silas (Acts 16:40)? What about Joanna and Susanna–women who supported Jesus’ ministry with their money (Lk. 8:3)? And what of Cornelius–the gentile believer whose military service may be controversial, but whose generosity to the poor is praised unreservedly in Scripture (Acts 10:2)?

How do we reconcile this tension between wealth’s association with sin and the existence of wealthy believers in good standing described within the pages of the New Testament? One early Christian writing, The Shepherd of Hermas, attempted to resolve that discrepancy.

A number of scholars argue that at least part of The Shepherd of Hermas was written around the end of the first century, though it doesn’t seem to have reached its final form until the second. Some early Christians considered it Scripture, while others saw it as at least an important Christian writing; thus its inclusion in a significant biblical manuscript, Codex Sinaiticus. Its genre is apocalyptic, like the Book of Revelation. Its protagonist, Hermas, is a follower of Jesus and former slave who was granted five visions and then given parables to guide his Christian walk. The second parable concerns the place of the rich in Christ’s church.

It begins this way:

“As I was walking in the field, and observing an elm and vine, and determining in my own mind respecting them and their fruits, the Shepherd appears to me, and says, ‘What is it that you are thinking about the elm and vine?’ ‘I am considering,’ I reply, ‘that they become each other exceedingly well.’ ‘These two trees,’ he continues, ‘are intended as an example for the servants of God.’”

Hermas’ guide then tells him a parable using the elm and the vine. The vine produces fruit, but its fruit will rot if it doesn’t have the vine to hold onto. In contrast, the elm produces no fruit, but does, in a sense, through its relationship with the vine. In short, when “the vine is cast upon the elm, it yields fruit both from itself and from the elm.”

The Shepherd instructs Hermas that this tells us something important about the rich and the poor in Christ’s church. He says that:

“The rich man has much wealth, but is poor in matters relating to the Lord, because he is distracted about his riches; and he offers very few confessions and intercessions to the Lord, and those which he does offer are small and weak, and have no power above. But when the rich man refreshes the poor, and assists him in his necessities, believing that what he does to the poor man will be able to find its reward with God — because the poor man is rich in intercession and confession, and his intercession has great power with God — then the rich man helps the poor in all things without hesitation; and the poor man, being helped by the rich, intercedes for him, giving thanks to God for him who bestows gifts upon him. And he still continues to interest himself zealously for the poor man, that his wants may be constantly supplied. For he knows that the intercession of the poor man is acceptable and influential with God. Both, accordingly, accomplish their work.”

In short, the rich are given to the church in order that the poor may be supported. Through their relationship, the members of Christ’s body and the mission of His church are blessed.

It’s noteworthy how this work is able to maintain the New Testament’s warning about the spiritual dangers of wealth and God’s closeness to the poor while also explaining how wealthy Christians could be welcome additions to Christ’s church. He does so through a creative reversal of expectations–the poor and weak are not here to serve the rich and powerful, as the pagan world of his day would have seen it, but in fact the opposite is true. To be truly great is not merely to have, but to use your resources in service to others.

While this reading is creative, it also has roots in other New Testament texts. For instance, James speaks of the poor man as being exalted because Christ raised him up. However, the rich man, who was already exalted in the ancient world’s system, is told to rejoice “in that he is made low: because as the flower of the grass he shall pass away.” (Jas. 1:10, KJV). The Apostle Paul adds that wealth serves as a great temptation which can destroy us, and that the “love of money,” though not money itself, “is the root of all types of evil” (1 Tim. 6:10). He goes on to warn rich brothers in the fellowship not to “trust in uncertain riches, but in the living God, who giveth us richly all things to enjoy.”

While some wealthier Christians may object to Hermas’ characterization of them as inherently less spiritual due to the distractions of money, it may be helpful to universalize the biblical concern to one of privilege. To be rich is to have a privilege that many others do not have–but the same is true of any of the gifts which God provides. Do you use this gift to satisfy only your desires, or do you see yourself as a steward of a gift that comes from God and should be used according to His good purposes? When used in this way, wealth becomes the prerequisite of what Paul calls a “spiritual gift” in Romans 12:6-8–the gift of giving. If one cannot exercise the gift of giving without something to give, then wealth need not always be seen as an evil–even it can be as much of a liability as other spiritual gifts which can contribute to pride or selfishness; for instance the gifts of leadership which, though a potential source of temptation, are very good when they are used in service to the body of Christ. That’s why the apostle Peter wrote, “as each one has received a gift, minister it to one another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God” (1 Peter 4:10, NKJV).

As a means of demonstrating a posture of fidelity to the God who gives, the wealthy should be “rich in good works, ready to distribute” (1 Tim. 6:17-18, KJV). When they do so, they are not merely investing their wealth on earth where it will rot or fade away, but in heaven. When we submit what we have for God’s purposes, we find that as difficult as it may be to thread a camel through the eye of a needle, “with God all things are possible” (Mk. 10:27).

At this year’s FreedomFest, the Libertarian Christian Institute had the pleasure of hosting one of the first breakout sessions of the event, where we highlighted LCI’s 10th anniversary and our two latest book publications: Benj Giffone’s A House Divided: Technology, Worship, and Healing the Church after COVID and Cody Cook’s The Anarchist Anabaptist. Since the subject matter is definitely a bit controversial (at least for the mainstream), we boldly chose to title the session “Anarchy, COVID, and the Church. Or, How to Offend Everybody Everywhere All At Once!” Perhaps a bit click-baity of a title, it at least evokes that this session intended to cover topics that would challenge the hearer.

I opened the session briefly recounting the origin story of the Libertarian Christian Institute and our mission for the past decade of equipping the church to promote a free society. This means we’re speaking truth to power, and helping our fellow believers make a difference with important ideas about liberty like those our panelists were about to discuss. With the help of our dear friend Doc Dixon – our magical moderator for the panel – we handed it over to Benj and Cody.

Watch here on YouTube.

Challenging the Church’s COVID Response

The real substance began when Benj, author of A House Divided: Technology, Worship, and Healing the Church After COVID, took the floor. His message: COVID-19 exposed both deep flaws and profound truths within Western Christianity.

Benj’s central argument was that the church’s move to digital-only worship during the pandemic wasn’t just a logistical adaptation—it was a spiritual wound. “Life together in the church, which we were robbed of during COVID, is actually even more essential to our human being than just the utility of community,” he said. The rituals, sacraments, and face-to-face fellowship that bind Christians were, in his view, not only irreplaceable but essential for human flourishing.

But why did churches comply so quickly with government shutdowns and mandates? For Benj, part of the answer is fear among Christian leaders—especially Protestant elites—of being labeled “anti-science.” He noted that these leaders often uncritically endorsed restrictions, driven by status anxiety more than conviction. At the same time, Benj credited Christians and non-Christians alike who spoke out in defense of liberty, seeing in them natural allies.

Benj’s sobering conclusion: Christianity’s unique contribution isn’t just community or tradition. The New Testament provides the foundation for human rights, freedom, and a principled skepticism of “corrupted elites”—whether in government, science, or media. “Forgiveness and reconciliation,” he emphasized, “must be based in truth and repentance, not mere amnesty or forgetting.”

Anabaptists and the Roots of Christian Anarchism

Next, Cody Cook, author of The Anarchist Anabaptist: Essays on Radical Christianity and Freedom, offered a tour of radical Christian history, particularly the often-overlooked Anabaptists of the Reformation era.

Cook explained how these “radical Christians” rejected both religious violence and enforced state religion two centuries before classical liberalism caught up. “The only true faith is a voluntary one,” he argued—an idea that led the Anabaptists to refuse infant baptism (a pillar of church-state unity at the time) and to embrace voluntary, communal living. Their commitment to voluntarism, decentralization, and pacifism, Cook said, makes their story a rich resource for modern libertarian Christians.

He connected this tradition of principled dissent back to the New Testament itself, noting how early Christianity’s rejection of state power led church fathers to draw a sharp contrast between allegiance to Christ and allegiance to Caesar. For Cook, these ideas are not just ancient curiosities, but blueprints for voluntary, peaceful societies even today—and the Amish, Hutterites, and Mennonites prove such communities are possible.

Q&A and Takeaways

The session wrapped up with a spirited Q&A that felt, appropriately, like a family reunion of iconoclasts and agitators. A perennial favorite—“How do libertarian Christians handle Romans 13?”—was answered with a nod toward LCI’s online resources. Another attendee pressed Cook about “natural law,” to which he explained that while the Anabaptists didn’t use that label, their beliefs tracked closely with natural law principles for justice and self-defense.

It was clear that for this crowd, difficult questions are not only welcome—they’re part of the fun.

If there was one recurring theme, it was that true Christian community and principled liberty are deeply intertwined, more than many realize. While COVID exposed painful weaknesses in how churches navigate public pressure, the historic witness of believers—from the house churches of the pandemic to the anarchist Anabaptists of old—reminds us that faith, freedom, and flourishing walk hand in hand.

For those hungry for genuine community, real reconciliation, and a faith not afraid to say “no” when it matters, the session offered both intellectual ammunition and a warm invitation—clash of ideas included.

*Curious to go deeper? You can grab copies of A House Divided and The Anarchist Anabaptist through the Libertarian Christian Institute.*

*Were you at the session or have thoughts to share? Contact us here or on social media—offending everybody is optional, but strong opinions are always welcome.*

A biblical and theological issue is at the heart of a major geopolitical crisis. This fact was brought to light during the recent discussion between Senator Ted Cruz and Tucker Carlson. When Tucker challenged Cruz on his vehement support for Israel, Cruz explained, “Growing up in Sunday School I was taught from the Bible, ‘Those who bless Israel will blessed and those who curse Israel will be cursed.’ And from my perspective, I want to be on blessings side of things.” 

A version of the view articulated by Sen. Cruz is held by many Christians in America and this conviction is at the root of widespread support for the present-day nation-state of Israel. When Israel goes to war, the American evangelical rallying cry is, “Stand With Israel!” Many of these Christians would say they stand with Israel on biblical and theological grounds. But is this warranted?

I, too, stand with Israel but perhaps not in the same manner as most of my fellow evangelicals.

I stand with Israel in Iran as they flee their homes in Tehran to avoid the bombs and missiles of the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF). And with the ones choosing to stay behind. 

I stand with Israel in Damascus and other areas of Syria as their nation has been handed over to Islamic State (IS) fighters in suits and ties with new branding. 

I stand with Israel in Nigeria as they suffer continuous attacks at the hands of jihadists with the most recent attack last week slaughtering approximately 200, including women and children. 

I stand with Israel in Israel as they endure physical assaults including spitting, physical harassment, damage to property and cemeteries, and the disruption of worship services. 

How could I say that Israel is trying to avoid the bombs of the Israeli Defense Forces? How could Israel attack Israel?

I can say this because, according to the Bible, the Israel of God is the people of God, those who are Jews inwardly. The people of God are not synonymous with any one nation-state even if this nation is called “Israel.” The apostle Paul explained that one is not a child of God due to ethnicity or religious rituals but by faith. Romans 2:28-29: “For no one is a Jew who is merely one outwardly, nor is circumcision outward and physical. But a Jew is one inwardly, and circumcision is a matter of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the letter. His praise is not from man but from God.” See also: Romans 9:6-8; Galatians 3:24-29; Galatians 6:12-16. 

But what about Abraham’s physical offspring? Don’t they still inherit the promises of the Abrahamic covenant? Not all physical descendants inherited the promises of the covenant. In Genesis 25 we see the example of Esau (and, therefore, the Edomites) who did not receive the promises although he was a physical descendant of Abraham. 

But even if heredity isn’t the only factor wouldn’t it still be a necessary requirement? The Old Testament gives us examples of non-Jews as “Israel.” Ruth the Moabite claimed God’s promise to Abraham when she declared, “Your people shall be my people, and your God my God (Ruth 1:16). Exodus 12:48 teaches that “a stranger” shall be “as a native of the land” by keeping the Passover and the males of the household were to be circumcised.  

Male circumcision was a requirement for covenant membership but even that was not enough. Jeremiah 9:25-26: “Behold, the days are coming, declares the LORD, when I will punish all those who are circumcised merely in the flesh–Egypt, Judah, Edom, the sons of Ammon, Moab, and all who dwell in the desert who cut the corners of their hair, for all these nations are uncircumcised, and all the house of Israel are uncircumcised in heart.”  

Having a “circumcised heart” was to be righteous by faith. Genesis 15:6 tells us that Abraham “believed the LORD, and he counted it to him as righteousness.” One must share the faith Abraham had in order to share in the blessings of covenant membership. Again, Romans 2:28-29: “For no one is a Jew who is merely one outwardly, nor is circumcision outward and physical. But a Jew is one inwardly, and circumcision is a matter of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the letter.”

The question for the present-day nation state of Israel is: do they have the faith of Abraham? The faith of Abraham was in the promise of the seed (Genesis 17:7) and the seed of promise is Jesus, the Messiah. Galatians 3:16: “Now the promises were made to Abraham and to his offspring. It does not say, ‘And to offsprings,’ referring to many, but referring to one, ‘And to your offspring,’ who is Christ. And Galatians 3:29: “And if you are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to promise.”

According to John 8:39-44, Jesus made it clear to the Jews of his day that not all of them were Abraham’s children due to disobedience and unbelief: “They answered him, ‘Abraham is our father.’ Jesus said to them, ‘If you were Abraham’s children, you would be doing the works Abraham did, but now you seek to kill me, a man who has told you the truth that I heard from God. This is not what Abraham did. You are doing the works your father did.’ They said to him, ‘We were not born of sexual immorality. We have one Father–even God.’ Jesus said to them, ‘If God were your Father, you would love me, for I came from God and I am here. I came not of my own accord, but he sent me. Why do you not understand what I say? It is because you cannot bear to hear my word. You are of your father the devil, and your will is to do your father’s desires.”

The Jews of Jesus’s day did not receive the Messiah. What about today? The true Israel of God are the people who have faith in God and his promised seed, Christ Jesus. If you are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to promise. Those citizens of the state of Israel who are Christ’s are members of Christ’s church, the true Israel. Those who are not in Christ, are not.

Paul makes it clear that the Church is Israel in Ephesians 2. Gentiles were once without Christ, alienated from the citizenship of Israel, strangers to the covenant of promise, having no hope and without God in the world (v.12). But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ (v.13). Acts 2:38-39 explains that the “far off” are the Gentiles. Being brought near is to be brought into Israel.

How? “For he [Christ] himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances” (Ephesians 2:14-15). Therefore, “You are no longer strangers and foreigners, but are fellow citizens with the other saints in God’s household (Ephesians 2:19). Now that Christ has fulfilled the law and broken down this wall, Gentiles are free, without submitting to the Mosaic Law, to be fellow citizens of Israel.  

Paul teaches in Romans 11:17-24 that unbelieving Jews have been broken off from the olive tree (God’s people) and Gentile believers are new branches grafted into the tree among the other branches. By faith, Jewish and Gentiles believers are united to Christ and members of God’s people. We receive the blessings of the covenant promised to Israel in Jeremiah 31:31, “Behold, the days are coming, declares the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah.” In Luke 22:20, Jesus said, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.” When those who are in Christ receive communion, we are declaring that we are recipients of God’s forgiveness through Christ’s blood through the new covenant. 

Those who are a new creation in Christ, Abraham’s offspring by faith, can be found all throughout the world. They represent a multitude of ethnicities and people-groups. In Christ, there is neither Jew nor Greek for all are one Christ Jesus.

Some might say, “Yes, we know the difference between ‘spiritual’ Israel and the state of Israel. But doesn’t Paul admit that God has not rejected Israel in Romans chapter 11? That God is not through with Israel? This is why we care so deeply about what happens to Israel.

Yes, God has not rejected Israel. If ethnic Jews do not continue in their unbelief (Romans 11:23), they will be grafted back into their own olive tree. However, Paul makes clear in Romans 10:1-4, “Brothers, my heart’s desire and prayer to God for them is that they may be saved. For I bear them witness that they have a zeal for God, but not according to knowledge. For, being ignorant of the righteousness of God, and seeking to establish their own, they did not submit to God’s righteousness. For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to everyone who believes.”

Paul’s strong desire was for the salvation of his fellow countrymen. He wanted them to be “in Christ.” If Christians are passionate about the nation of Israel, we ought to be passionate like Paul. We should be zealous for the salvation of the Jews just as we are zealous for the Gospel to be received by all people-groups of the world, including the people of Iran. This looks very different than vociferously cheering on a secular government entity as they drop bombs on an enemy.

But what about the current war between Israel and Iran? How can we justify the fact that Iran has nuclear weapons and is lobbing missiles into heavily populated areas of Israel? I don’t justify any of it. And I have not seen evidence that Iran even has nuclear weapons. Benjamin Netanyahu has proclaimed that Iran is months away from nukes for 30 years now. And I have not seen evidence that Iran was behind two assassination attempts against President Trump, as Netanyahu claims.   

Christians ought to be far more passionate for the welfare of the true Israel than for the modern secular nation-state called Israel. The people of God are located all throughout the world, and they often suffer due to the foreign policy decisions made by those under the sway of neo-conservative/regime change ideologies and the political donations of the military industrial complex. 

If American evangelicals “stood with” our fellow believers in the nations targeted for regime change as strongly as we “stand with” the nation of Israel, we could have prevented a lot of suffering. We could have possibly persuaded our politicians to pursue peaceful, diplomatic solutions rather than forcibly removing the leaders who actually provided a measure of protection to Christians. Their removal has resulted in far worse conditions for these Christians. 

I stand with Israel: those who have been circumcised inwardly, Abraham’s offspring in Christ, the sons and daughters of God through faith in Christ. Our brothers and sisters in Christ live in Syria, Iran, Russia, Ukraine, and the United States. They can be found in both predominantly Muslim areas and within the nation of Israel.

I stand with Israel, Abraham’s offspring by faith in Christ, but I do not necessarily stand with or against Israel, the secular nation-state.

“News Flash: Illegal immigrants DO NOT HAVE RIGHTS. They are . . . (Are you ready?) . . . ILLEGAL.”
– A post of one of my Facebook “friends,” April, 2025

“Looking back, there have been 88,899 federal rules and regulations since 1995 through December 2016, . . . [and, during that same timeframe,] 4,312 laws.” (source) (That’s 93,211 in total, but who’s counting?)

Humans are made in the image of God, and yet we are pervasively corrupt and fallen. These aspects of human nature have implications beyond what are typically recognized in Christian circles.  Among other things, we are sub-creators, makers, and laborers on a mission. We all should, in keeping with what Joshua declared for his household, “serve the Lord” (Joshua 24:15, ESV). Like Jesus, we should “be about my Father’s business” (KJV Luke 2:49), and as Paul exhorts, work always “as for the Lord” (Colossians 3:23, ESV). All our work, even if not explicitly religious, is to be the work the Lord has for us and should be done as if for him. Imagine being the person who steps in the path of a fellow laborer, stops him, takes his tools, maybe even binds his hands, and says, “No, you are doing it wrong. Let me show you how it’s really done.” … “Oh, and until you agree to do it my way, your hands remain tied.” If this strikes you as presumptuous and ungodly, then you are a proponent of liberty.

I read Jeffrey A. Brauch’s Flawed Perfection: What It Means To Be Human & Why It Matters For Culture, Politics, and Law shortly after coming across the Facebook post at the opening of this article, and Flawed Perfection thoroughly trounces the views expressed by the post. Brauch is a professor at Regent University School of Law and was its Dean during my time at Regent from 2005 to 2008. I have nothing but respect for Professor Brauch. His work expounds on fairly standard Conservative Christian belief systems, and yet the view expressed on the quoted post is sadly common among Christians.  Essentially, human nature includes that we are created in God’s image and thus have inherent worth and dignity, and yet we (Christian notwithstanding) are fallen, corrupt, and corruptible, prone to dehumanizing those we deem to be harming us.  Regardless of race, nationality, age, and cognitive ability, humans have various rights such as to life, basic humane treatment, and to defend ourselves. The views expressed in the Facebook post are antithetical to a Christian worldview of who humans are.

Flawed Perfection includes detailed explanations of how fallen humans commit government overreach by attempting to create utopia on earth and ban or regulate all sin. Sound libertarian? Maybe by logical implication, but reading it, you will not come away with that impression. It falls squarely in the tradition of standard Christian Conservatives. Humans have inherent dignity and worth and must be treated humanely, and we cannot proscribe every vice (for example, Brauch discusses disastrous alcohol prohibition and attempts to outlaw gambling). Restrictions on immorality should be limited, in the tradition of Thomas Aquinas, to that which is “possible for the majority to abstain.”

We must go further. The implications of human nature, particularly that we are made in the image of God, make a powerful case for Christian libertarianism. Oft ignored aspects of being created in God’s image help us clarify a reason or purpose for liberty. 1) God is the creator, Genesis 1:1, 2) God is a worker, Genesis 2:2. Humans are sub-creators, makers, and workers

J.R.R. Tolkien, most famous for his epic fantasy Lord of the Rings, discusses this in his essay “On Fairy Stories” in relation to writing fantasy. He describes humans in a short poem stating: “Man, Sub-creator, the refracted Light/ through whom is splintered from a single White/ to many hues, and endlessly combined/ in living shapes that move from mind to mind.”

God and his fullness of truth and life and light is the “single White” and humans use the light in endless combinations to do God’s multitudinous work on earth. “The Christian has still to work, with mind as well as body, to suffer, hope, and die; but he may now perceive that all his bents and faculties have a purpose, which can be redeemed.”  Joshua says that “we will serve the Lord.” Tolkien describes us as “refracted Light.” Rulers and legislators respond: “Do your service. Do your refracting. Fine. But do it within the confines of all the rules and regulations we impose upon you.”

People are made to be workers and creators on a mission to exercise dominion over the earth. Yet what in the Dominion Mandate sets man over man?

I am mindful that the Bible is much more focused on sin and righteousness, the need for salvation, the way to salvation, grace, faith, love, and all such more overtly religious or “Christian” things. Scripture does not concern itself nearly as much with assuring people they can pursue certain lines of work without stumbling blocks the state puts before them. Political work and discussions such as this article certainly are secondary to the main thrust of scripture, yet it does not take a PhD ethicist to recognize that deflecting God’s people from their vocational callings is not a good thing.

God has more than enough work for everyone to do—productive, creative, mental, physical, all types and manner of work: “we dared to build/ Gods and their houses out of dark and light,/ and sowed the seed of dragons-‘twas out right/ (use or misused).”

Yes, we are fallen. What we do “can be ill done.” All our efforts, our manufacturing, our economics, everything, can go astray. Nevertheless, we must have freedom to work out our callings. Tolkien again:

Men have conceived not only of elves, but they have imagined gods, and worshiped them, even worshipped those most deformed by their authors’ own evil. But they have made false gods out of other materials: their notions, their banners, their monies, even their sciences and their social and economic theories have demanded human sacrifice. Abusus non tollit usum. Fantasy remains a human right: we make in our measure and in our derivative mode, because we are made: and not only made, but made in the image and likeness of a Maker.

Interestingly, Tolkien here directly calls out “economic theories” as an area for idolatry. Goodness knows we libertarians love our sound economic theories. The admonition from Mount Sanai to have “no other gods before me” Exodus 20:30 is as vital and binding as it ever was. And much has been written on idolatry to include much more than simply carving an image in wood or stone and worshipping it as a God. J.I. Packer writes: “As a creature, man yearns for a god to serve; as a sinner, he is resolved to play God himself, and demands that everything else should serve him.” (JI Packer, here)

Taking lordship over other human beings is an ultimate presumption which says, “The way for you to best serve God is by serving him within the bound of what I (the ruler, the king, the legislator) direct for you.” Is this not itself idolatry? We see this most emphatically in areas of religious practice. No Christian would tolerate a naked directive by the state to pray in a certain way, and we have the heroic example of Daniel on how to respond to such overreach, Daniel 6:10. Yet this principles applies in mundane, less obviously religious areas as well.

The Bible is not so worried about a ruler telling a person whether he has to pasteurize his milk before selling it, and why? Perhaps because it is focused on the subject, not the ruler. Live in a Godly manner despite the stumbling blocks that are put in your way. But do not yourself place such roadblocks. Jesus explicitly calls out gentile rulers:

“The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leaders as one who serves. For who is the greater, one who reclines at table or one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines at table? But I am among you as the one who serves” (Luke 22:25-27, ESV).

Correctly reflect on yourself and others and your human nature and theirs; you and they are human beings made in the image of God, full of inherent worth and dignity, fallen and corrupt, and yet sub-creators, makers, workers, and fellow laborers.

Not everyone is a Christian, though—hasn’t all this talk of serving the lord been directed at Christians? More directly, yes, but not exclusively. No Christian argues that the non Christian loses his inherent dignity by not being saved. Who but a barbarian treats Christians with consideration of their humanity but looks at non Christians as sub-human? Are not all believers former unbelievers? How but through freedom do you walk that path from sinner to saint? Any unbeliever can join the church and family of believers at literally any moment, and freedom is the necessary and right status of human beings to enable them to relate directly and correctly to God.

We are to “work out [our] own salvation with fear and trembling” (Phil 2:12, ESV). We ought also to work out, with fear and trembling, our daily grinding, working, willing, creating, making, and laboring, between ourselves and God, not hemmed in, restricted, bound, fenced, manipulated, and taxed by other humans.

James Lindsay often warns about the “woke right”—those aligned with the political right who abandon principle for tribe, trade truth for political advantage, and use the same tactics as the “woke left” to get there. And I think he’s right to be concerned. But the irony is thick: because when he responded to critics of Israel’s war in Gaza by demanding they justify their moral framework against the behavior of Hamas, he wasn’t standing up for principle—he was doing exactly what he warns against.

To be clear, neither I nor LCI defend Hamas or its atrocities. Israel has a legitimate right to self-defense, and responding to aggression is compatible with Just War Theory. But too often, people invoke that right while ignoring the rest of what the doctrine requires. That’s why it’s worth stepping back and clearly defining what Just War Theory actually is.

Let’s talk about it.

What Is Just War Theory?

Just War Theory didn’t come out of nowhere—it’s a deeply Christian tradition rooted in Scripture, theology, and moral reasoning. It’s not a political slogan. It’s not a tribal cudgel. It’s a centuries-long effort by Christian thinkers to wrestle with one of the hardest moral questions: When, if ever, is it just to go to war?

The earliest form of Just War thinking comes from St. Augustine in the 4th–5th century. Augustine wasn’t some warmonger. He lived through the collapse of Rome and was deeply grieved by violence and bloodshed. But he also recognized that in a fallen world, justice sometimes requires force. What he laid out was a careful and humble framework: war is only just if it’s aimed at restoring peace, punishing grave evil, and protecting the innocent. Not for conquest. Not for pride. Not for revenge.

Later, St. Thomas Aquinas in the 13th century expanded and refined this doctrine in his Summa Theologica, organizing it under three key principles:

1. Just authority (only legitimate rulers can declare war),
2. Just cause (there must be a real and grave wrong to correct), and
3. Right intention (war must aim toward peace and justice, not vengeance or domination).

This foundation was built upon by Christian jurists and philosophers throughout the centuries—people like Francisco de Vitoria and Hugo Grotius—who brought these ideas into discussions of international law and ethics. Even Enlightenment thinkers borrowed from this moral tradition to shape what would become modern humanitarian law and the rules of war.

The point is: Just War Theory has Christian origins. It’s a deeply moral attempt to restrain evil in a world where evil exists. But that restraint must be consistent. And it must apply to everyone.

What Just War Requires

Just War isn’t “your team good, their team bad.” It’s not about justifying violence for the people you like. It’s about asking the hard questions before and during war.

The traditional categories break down like this:

1. Jus ad bellum (justice in going to war):
   Just cause
   Legitimate authority
   Right intention
   Last resort
   Proportionality
   Reasonable chance of success
2. Jus in bello (justice during war):
   Distinction between combatants and civilians
   Proportionality in force used
3. Jus post bellum (justice after war):
   Work toward lasting peace, not permanent occupation
   Pursue accountability, not impunity
   Rebuild what was destroyed
   Promote reconciliation, not cycles of revenge

If you’re not following all of that—all of it—then you’re not waging a just war. You’re just waging war.

Has Israel Met These Standards?

No.

Let’s start with Jus ad bellum. Has Israel exhausted peaceful alternatives? No. For decades, it has:

Undermined Palestinian moderates
Quietly propped up Hamas as a political wedge
Maintained an ongoing blockade of Gaza
Expanded settlements in violation of international law
Rejected serious peace proposals and instead doubled down on control

None of this justifies Hamas’ actions. But it does call into question the claim that Israel has done everything in its power to avoid war. That’s a requirement of Just War Theory—not a suggestion.

And when it comes to Jus in bello, we see:

• Civilian death tolls in the tens of thousands,
• Entire neighborhoods leveled,
• Hospitals and refugee camps bombed,
• Mass starvation used as a tool of war.

This is not the moral high ground. This is not proportional or just.

It’s often argued that Hamas hides among civilians and uses human shields, making civilian casualties unavoidable. While the frequency or degree by which this happens is generally overstated, it is true that this is sometimes the case and such situations present real challenges – as does all urban warfare. However, Just War Theory doesn’t give a blank check to kill civilians simply because the enemy is immoral or because it is more difficult to fight the enemy while avoiding civilian casualties. The presence of human shields doesn’t erase the obligation to discriminate between combatants and non-combatants or to use proportional force. In fact, it heightens the moral responsibility to act with restraint. As Christians, we must remember the words of Paul in Romans 12 – we cannot overcome evil with evil.

Can Israel Respond to Hamas at all then?

Now, I want to be clear here. I’m not saying that because Israel has not exhausted all peaceful alternatives over the years doesn’t mean it forfeits the right to self-defense today. Responding to an attack like Hamas’s on October 7 is morally justified. But if Israel wants that response to be truly just, it must also reckon with how its long-term policies—settlements, blockades, and political manipulation—have fueled the conditions that led to war. Just War Theory requires more than reactive force; it demands a pursuit of justice that aims toward peace. If Israel continues to treat Palestinians unjustly while responding militarily to Hamas, it not only fails the moral standard—it guarantees the cycle of violence will repeat.

Justice Can’t Be Selective

What James Lindsay is doing—what many others are doing—is demanding that only Hamas be held to moral standards. But that’s not how justice works. You don’t get to quote Augustine when you want to condemn terrorism and then ignore him when you want to excuse war crimes.

You either believe justice is universal—or you don’t believe in justice at all.

You don’t have to be “anti-Israel” to say that Israel has violated these principles. You just have to be honest. You have to be consistent. You have to care about morality more than tribal loyalty.

The Christian and Libertarian Alternative

From a Christian libertarian perspective, I hold two truths together:

1. Nations have a right to self-defense,
2. That right is not a blank check.

It must be exercised with moral restraint. With accountability. With wisdom.

Jesus told us to love our enemies. He didn’t say “don’t protect the innocent”—but he did say to pursue peace. And that command isn’t suspended when we’re angry or afraid. In fact, that’s exactly when we’re tested.

As a libertarian, I also know that the State often uses war to expand its power, to mask its failures, and to manufacture consent through fear. And as a Christian, I believe the true battle is not against flesh and blood but against the spiritual forces of evil. That doesn’t mean we never fight—but it means we must never glorify war or let it consume our principles.

The Real Irony

James Lindsay warns about the “woke right”—tribalism wrapped in moral rhetoric, sacrificing principle for power.

The irony? That’s exactly what he’s doing here.

Demanding that moral standards only apply to your enemies is the oldest trick in the authoritarian playbook. It’s not moral clarity. It’s moral convenience.

And one of the most egregious examples of this is the argument that “all Palestinians are complicit” or that “they elected Hamas, so they deserve what they get.” That’s not ‘Just War’ reasoning. That’s collective punishment. And it’s explicitly rejected by both Christian moral teaching and the Just War tradition. Children didn’t vote for Hamas. Refugees in camps didn’t vote for Hamas. Many Gazans who did vote were doing so nearly two decades ago under duress, in a broken political system (and even then, Hamas didn’t win a majority in ANY district, & only gained full control through force)

So Yes, James—Let’s Talk Just War

I’m not afraid to “put up.” Here’s my theory. It’s rooted in Scripture, in Christian tradition, in moral philosophy, and in a belief that justice must apply to everyone—even when it’s politically inconvenient.

The question is: do you still believe in principles? Or are you just another partisan demanding that we shut up and fall in line?

Because I won’t.

I’ll stand where Christ calls us to stand: For peace, for truth, and for a justice that never bends to power.

A faction within the “patriotic” Christian American nationalists aims to implement biblical law and has recently gained influence within the Republican Party. These individuals often exaggerate the role of the Bible in shaping the Founding Fathers’ ideals and the American Constitution. As David Barton, founder and CEO of WallBuilders, claimed, the recent Republican Party platform is “the most Biblically friendly platform we’ve had in my lifetime.” If this is so, does the American “religious right” truly align with biblical principles?

Under Biblical governance, God’s law does not change, and neither does morality, law, or justice. Like the Ten Commandments, they are set in stone for all people throughout all time. Looking at Biblical times there was no “active” form of government molding and adapting society. No professional “state” and paid politicians passing laws. Unlike elected republican politicians who can pass laws, in the Bible, no legislative ability existed as rulers only implemented what God had already declared. Further, God did not force anyone under his laws. In contrast, Republicans duke it out in political warfare, trying to impose their ways on Democrats, libertarians, and anyone else who dared resist majority rule.

Biblical law lacks the taxation, oppression, and regulations a professional state imposes; it only comes into play when one’s action injures another or if a serious moral violation of God’s law has occurred. Many sins in the Bible are between God and man, and the state is not authorized to intervene unless they harm another person. The government is severely limited, with no ability to gain or increase its power, and the people enjoyed liberty unknown in America’s history.

Biblical law severely limits rulers’ power, so much of what the American government does today under the Constitution endorsed by “the right” would be outside its jurisdiction. For example, there would be no allowance for governmental debt (America has the most significant debt in the world), foreign aid, intrusion on private property or rights, and the government cannot take from private citizens (eminent domain allows the U.S government to while a Biblical king could not Ezekiel 46.18): burdens of licenses, regulations, and permits. There are no allowances for subsidies, bailouts, the devaluing of money, government land ownership, and no legislators run by men adapting and creating laws, especially those that do not harm another individual. American politicians create tens of thousands of laws each year, thousands of times more than God gave in total!

There would be no IRS or income tax, heavy taxation, welfare, or property tax, and those living self-sufficient lifestyles would not even face a tax! Deuteronomy 14.22 lays a 10% tax, but this is on agriculture, and it is a fixed rate aimed only at the head of the household, not women or children. Further, these taxes are only placed on the increase, and the highest possible tax bracket would be 13.3%. Further, these taxes in the Bible were partly to upkeep the Temple. Since the sacrificial system is no longer in place, the tax would be reduced.

Further, all the indirect taxes placed on various objects that drive prices up on business in America, that pass to the consumers are not there in biblical taxation.

Our income is taxed, sent to someone else, and taxed again when spending money. So each time a dollar is spent, it is taxed in some way in America, leading each dollar actually to be taxed far more than it is worth; under Biblical tax, the tax is given once.

Under Biblical law, the tax-funded prison system would be abolished, and swift justice would return. Lawyers and insurance companies would be obsolete. Preventions for lying in court and false accusations would be instituted.

Crimes would not be against the state that punished people with jail time but based on the guilty party compensating the victim and also prevention of future crimes. The guilty would need to work off what they owe to the victim, and they would not receive tax-funded housing or food via prison. When crimes are declared “against the state,” it turns the goal of justice away from compensating the victim to punishing the criminal. For example, we unjustly handle robbery in the following way:

The victim is assaulted and robbed, and the attacker is imprisoned. Through taxation, the victim must pay for the police, judges, jail, housing, food, and other expenses to fund the prosecution, arrest, and housing of his assailant. Further, it costs the innocent taxpayer an incredible amount; in my state, it costs over $50,000 dollars a year to house a criminal. Victims receive no compensation; instead, they are financially punished. Meanwhile, the criminal lives off taxpayers who were not involved with the crime. Taxpayers fund the state apparatus, creating new victims not directly involved with the incident. There is no justice in this.

Think of another scenario from the viewpoint of a survivor of a serial rapist and murderer. Years after the attack, the victim still suffered mental and physical trauma while her assaulter was “eating three meals a day, had a television, and didn’t have to work or worry about rent. He had gotten married in prison and was having people write to him…he was costing the state $26,500 per year just in food and housing…I was a victim, yet no one was paying my rent or making sure I got three meals a day…he was sitting on death row with his every need being cared for.” We must ask ourselves, is the “justice” we receive from the state itself criminal?

In the Bible, justice was based on compensation to the victim by the guilty party and on discouraging future crimes. To prevent stealing, the Bible imposed an uneven punishment for theft; you had to give back more than you took. Exodus 22:1 reads, “If a man steals an ox or a sheep, and slaughters it or sells it, he shall restore five oxen for an ox and four sheep for a sheep.” Proverbs 6:31 says, “Yet when he is found, he must restore sevenfold; He may have to give up all the substance of his house.”

In this system, neither the victim nor innocent bystanders are punished via tax to fund the system; the money goes to the victim (not the state), who is overcompensated for their loss, while future theft is discouraged by a heavy penalty. There is nothing immoral in the system.

In my state of Vermont, the police are notorious for abusing drivers. They hide their green vehicles in the brush or behind trees and sit in spots often where the speed limit changes drastically to “catch” law-abiding citizens, employees a bit late to work, parents driving kids to activities, and so on driving over the limit. They punish these tax-paying and law-abiding citizens for not following the rules.

These areas are often flats where accidents never occur; meanwhile, in more dangerous places where accidents occur, you are much more likely to find an ambulance than a cop car. Further, half the country’s murders go unresolved; few are prevented from occurring in the first place; we have blatant thievery, crime, drugs, and worse This is the inevitable long-term effect of “crimes against the state” is that “Police” enforcement becomes about funding itself rather than protecting people from others who would harm them.

This is why Walter E. Block argues private security is far better than our current socialist police forces. Block points out you are far safer at places like Disney and Walmart, where private security is used, than walking down the streets of America, where socialism dominates. If a private company can’t provide protection, it will lose to competitors, whereas the government has none. When a government service performs poorly, they often get money thrown at them by the socialist parties in D.C. Thus the government rewards poor performance while competition improves it.

In America, there is also a presumption of guilt where individuals are required to obtain licenses and undergo inspections to prove their innocence. In contrast, Biblical law operated on the assumption of innocence and only intervened after a crime had been committed to deliver justice.

Perhaps most vitally is the absence of modern obiance to the state. Under Biblical law, if a man in power places himself above God, seeks to impose his will instead of divine, and attempts to legislate, add to his powers, and so on, the people are to implement “Rebellion to Tyrants is Obedience to God.” By law, they are to resist him, upholding the law and removing the tyrant.

A ruler was subject to both divine law and those he governed. In the eyes of God, a tyrant is no longer a lord since he has violated his design and is now acting on his own; he has replaced God with himself. Thus the tyrant is no longer to be followed by a Christian people; he no longer has any authority since authority comes from God, who only delegated specific duties to rulers. A tyrant becomes the enemy of the people, their customs, and God.

In the 12th century, John of Salisbury wrote, “By the authority of the divine book, it is lawful and glorious to kill public tyrants.” He also wrote, “I submit to his power…so long as it is exercised in subjection to God and follows His ordinances. But on the other hand if it resists and opposes the divine commandments, and wishes to make me share in its war against God; then with unrestrained voice I answer back that God must be preferred before any man on earth.” Saint Bonaventure taught that if a lord acts “contrary to God no man may obey him; moreover, since he who abuses the power committed to him has deserved to lose this power, he may be rightfully removed from it.”

How very different we are modern “patriotic” conservative Americans holding to the secular philosophy of obedience to the state. Who blindly follow any dictates coming from DC no matter how unconstitutional, immoral, or unlawful they are. We accept the “divine right of the state.” Anything it declares, any decree it passes, is now declared “law.” They have entirely changed our definitions of traitor and rebel based on blind obedience. Today, anyone who does not follow a federal declaration is a traitor or rebel. In Biblical law any ruler who went outside of law and his limitations was a rebel and traitor and was to be resisted by law.

American governance has no check on state authority, and thus, it has grown into a tyrannical monstrosity that enters all areas of life: our towns, our schools, our language, and our homes. It tries to mold us, direct us, and conform us to its will. Having no competition in the provision of law and little semblance of appropriate checks and balances in the branches, the state apparatus has fully completed its monopoly power.

Therefore, it appears that to be “biblical,” as Barton desires, much of what the Republicans endorse would need to be abolished, and should instead adopt libertarian principles of limited-to-zero government.