The Good, God-Fearing Christian Right-Wing American: A Masterclass in Moral Supremacy
By David Franklin
Ah yes, the Good, God-fearing Christian Right-Wing American — nature’s most divine creation since the bald eagle and low taxes. Clad in a patriotic hoodie from Walmart and spiritually armed with both the King James Bible version and a concealed carry permit. This paragon of virtue roams the land, spreading the good word (and unsolicited political opinions) like glitter at a children’s craft table.
Faith, Family, and Firearms: The Holy Trinity of American Righteousness
In the sacred text of Right-Wing Christian Americana, there is a trinity more revered than Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — and its name is Faith, Family, and Firearms. Not necessarily in that order.
This holy trifecta forms the cornerstone of the Good, God-fearing Christian’s worldview, scrawled across wooden signs in Hobby Lobby script and proudly displayed on kitchen walls beside antique rifles and oversized crosses purchased on sale at Cracker Barrel.
Let’s start with Faith — the foundation. Not to be confused with doubt, nuance, or anything involving actual theology. Faith, in this context, means believing — without question — that your interpretation of God is the only correct one, and that He speaks exclusively through your favorite political commentator and the occasional Facebook meme featuring an eagle superimposed over Psalm 33:12.
Their faith is bold. Vocal. Occasionally shouty. It’s the kind of faith that believes in miracles but not science, in prayer but not policy, in selective scripture but not systemic change. It’s a faith that demands crosses in courthouses, prayers at pep rallies, and Ten Commandments monuments large enough to distract from the fact that most of them aren’t followed anyway.
Then we move to Family — God’s most sacred institution, as long as that family fits within the pre-approved blueprint: one straight man, one submissive woman, two to nineteen homeschooled children, and a dog named Liberty. Bonus points if they all wear matching shirts that say “Raised Right” at Disney World.
Family values are central — which means no drag queens reading books, no sex education beyond “don’t,” and no Netflix shows featuring gay people unless they repent by the finale. Divorce? It happens, sure — but as long as you blame it on the devil or your spouse’s secret liberal tendencies, you’re in the clear.
They love to talk about protecting the children — from books, from pronouns, from the trauma of learning accurate U.S. history. But oddly, this protection rarely includes things like food security, healthcare, or not getting shot in a classroom.
Which brings us, of course, to the final and most cherished member of the trinity: Firearms.
In the beginning, God created the heavens, the earth, and the Second Amendment. It’s in there somewhere — right after Genesis, apparently — because to hear these patriots speak, guns are a God-given right bestowed directly upon America and its citizens, preferably starting at age 9.
They love their guns. Not in a recreational way — in a deeply spiritual, covenantal, borderline romantic way. Their rifles have names. Their handguns have holsters more expensive than their wedding rings. They’ve memorized gun statistics with more precision than Scripture — unless it’s “he who has no sword, sell his cloak and buy one,” which they quote so often it might as well be carved on the back of every pew.
Jesus said “blessed are the peacemakers”, and they assume that meant Glocks.
Any mention of gun regulation is met with full-scale existential panic. “They’re coming for our Bibles and our bullets,” they’ll say, as if every minor safety proposal is a direct attack on both the Constitution and Calvary. Never mind that Jesus rebuked violence repeatedly — or that He told Peter to put away his sword. That verse must’ve been mistranslated by CNN and MSNBC.
For these believers, their God-given right to bear arms is inseparable from their identity. Faith saves their souls, family defines their tribe, but firearms? Firearms defend both — from criminals, from communists, and, most urgently, from anyone suggesting maybe kids shouldn’t have to do active shooter drills during gym class.
In the end, Faith, Family, and Firearms isn’t just a motto. It’s a liturgy — recited over kitchen tables, campaign rallies, and Fox News segments with increasing urgency. It’s the gospel of a nation baptized in gunpowder and raised on casseroles, where the line between religion and ideology has blurred into one, vaguely gun-shaped cross.
The Bible: Now With Political Commentary!
Once upon a time, the Bible was a sacred text — mysterious, humbling, and often wildly inconvenient. Then came the Good, God-fearing Right-Wing Christian American, who took one look at the Sermon on the Mount and said: “This needs more Nationalism.”
Gone is the dusty, complicated collection of poetry, prophecy, and parable. In its place: The Bible: American Edition™ — Now With Political Commentary! Featuring helpful margin notes by talk show hosts, footnotes from anonymous Twitter accounts, and a foreword by the Apostle Paul (as imagined by a guy from Tulsa with strong opinions on immigration).
Why wrestle with ancient languages or historical context when you can just cherry-pick verses to support your existing political opinions? With this version of the Bible, Jesus always agrees with your tax policy, endorses your favorite governor, and conveniently skips over that whole “love your enemies” nonsense.
The Ten Commandments? Now a helpful checklist for why you should be against gay marriage and TikTok.
The Book of Revelation? Obviously a coded prophecy about Democrats winning the House.
That time Jesus told a rich man to give away everything? Probably sarcasm. God has a sense of humor, right?
Parables are reinterpreted for modern clarity:
- The Good Samaritan becomes The Good Taxpayer, who calls ICE on the injured man for suspicious paperwork.
- The Widow’s Mite is now a warning against socialism — clearly, she should’ve opened a Roth IRA.
- Jesus feeding the 5,000? Government overreach, plain and simple.
Gone are the radical calls to compassion, the rebukes of power, the warnings to religious hypocrites. Instead, we have a streamlined gospel, focused primarily on religious liberty (for Christians only), property rights (especially yours), and the God-given sanctity of low taxes.
Of course, this Bible isn’t entirely rewritten — just rebranded. All the verses about sexual sin are highlighted in bold and underlined with red ink. Anything about caring for the poor? Small font, footnoted with “see: personal responsibility.” And anything Jesus said about wealth, war, or the dangers of religious pride? Omitted for clarity.
This isn’t about faith anymore — it’s about comfort. It’s not about transformation — it’s about confirmation. The goal is not to be shaped by Scripture, but to reshape Scripture until it fits in the glovebox of your truck, right next to your Constitution pocket guide and unopened mask.
In the end, The Bible: Now With Political Commentary! isn’t just a book — it’s a lifestyle. One that lets you wrap your prejudices in holy language, your politics in piety, and your lawn signs in literal Gospel.
Praise be..
Guns and God: A Match Made in America
In the pantheon of great American love stories — peanut butter and jelly, baseball and steroids, reality TV and irreversible brain damage — none shine quite as brightly as the sacred union between Guns and God. To the Good, God-fearing Right-Wing Christian American, this isn’t just a pairing — it’s a covenant. Like Moses and the tablets, except this time the tablets are concealed-carry permits.
They’ll tell you it’s about “freedom,” “self-defense,” or “upholding the Constitution.” But make no mistake: this is a full-blown spiritual romance. Firearms aren’t just tools — they’re sacraments. Baptized in oil, anointed with stickers that say “Come and Take It,” and lovingly passed down like heirloom theology from father to son (or, more realistically, from Glenn Beck’s merch store to your Amazon cart).
In their theology, the Lord is their shepherd — and also their armorer.
The imagery alone is telling. Jesus, no longer the gentle shepherd cradling a lamb, is now reimagined as a rugged, flannel-wearing marksman with tactical sandals, open-carrying a .45 and quoting Scripture between rounds at the gun range. “Turn the other cheek” has been reinterpreted as “always check your six.”
They quote the Second Amendment with the same reverence they give to the Book of John. Occasionally more. After all, Jesus said blessed are the peacemakers — but He never said anything about background checks.
And you can’t have church without gun raffles. Because nothing says “resurrection power” like winning a camo-printed AR-15 between altar calls. “Buy a Bible, get a Glock” sounds absurd — unless you’ve been to certain megachurches in rural Tennessee, in which case it’s just the Easter promotion.
Critics say this obsession is unholy. That Jesus preached nonviolence. That mixing the Prince of Peace with weapons of war might be, you know, a theological red flag. But that’s just liberal heresy talking. Real Americans know that the only thing stronger than faith is faith with a tactical scope and a magazine capacity that makes angels weep.
They don’t just believe God allows guns — they believe God loves them. After all, how else would His chosen people fend off tyrants, home invaders, and the occasional squirrel on the bird feeder?
Guns and God, they say, are the two pillars that hold up this great nation. Without one, the other can’t stand. And if you dare suggest otherwise — if you dare mention red-letter verses, or historic pacifism, or, God forbid, Jesus’s actual teachings — well, get ready for the sermon and the sidearm.
Freedom and Fear: The Sacred American Paradox
There is no one who cherishes freedom more than the Good, God-fearing Right-Wing Christian American — and no one who’s more terrified of everything that might come with it.
Freedom means being able to pray in school (but only Christian prayers, because obviously God only speaks English). It means being able to homeschool your kids with a 1993 science textbook that reassures them humans once rode dinosaurs like morally upright Flintstones. It means saying whatever you want, whenever you want, without consequence — especially online. Unless, of course, someone disagrees. Then it’s cancel culture tyranny.
They are free to worship, but also deeply afraid that their religion is under attack, especially when Starbucks forgets to include a nativity scene on their coffee cups. They’re free to bear arms, but somehow always convinced that the government is three seconds away from breaking down the door and confiscating their family heirloom — the assault rifle named “Betsy.”
Freedom of the press? A beautiful concept, unless the press says anything mean about their favorite reality TV president. Freedom of speech? Vital to democracy, unless you’re a drag queen reading “Green Eggs and Ham” to kids, in which case you’re clearly part of a sinister plot to overthrow America using eyeliner and iambic pentameter.
And don’t get them started on “freedom of choice” — unless it’s about choosing which gun to carry into Sunday service. Bodily autonomy? That’s liberal code for sin. But owning 17 dogs, homeschooling your 19 kids, and refusing vaccines for all of them? That’s just patriotic parenting.
Freedom. The word rolls off the tongue like sweet tea and gunpowder. To the Good, God-fearing Right-Wing Christian American, it’s more than a concept — it’s a religion in and of itself. Right up there with Jesus, college football, and whatever Tucker Carlson is mad about this week.
But this isn’t your grandmother’s freedom — the kind that meant self-governance, community responsibility, and maybe the occasional tax protest. No, this is the modern, weaponized version of freedom. The kind that says “I can do whatever I want, whenever I want, to whomever I want, and if you don’t like it, you’re a communist.”
Ironically, for a group so obsessed with freedom, they sure live in a constant state of fear.
Fear of immigrants.
Fear of Muslims.
Fear of vaccines, educated women, pronouns, public schools, drag queens, the government, electric cars, oat milk, and people who say “LatinX.”
Fear that somewhere, somehow, someone is being different and not getting punished for it.
It’s a paradox wrapped in a flag and sold at Cracker Barrel. We are the freest nation on Earth, they say, and we’re one rainbow flag away from total collapse.
Their version of liberty is strangely fragile — the kind that can be shattered by a trans athlete in a swim meet or a Black woman running for mayor. They declare themselves the last defenders of truth, justice, and traditional family values — yet can’t handle a library drag story hour without filing a police report.
It’s the most emotionally volatile freedom on the planet. It trembles at wind turbines, cries at holiday cups, and declares national emergencies over unisex bathrooms. Every minor social shift is treated as a coordinated assault on Jesus, capitalism, and personal freedom — even if all that really happened was someone asked them to wear a mask at Arby’s.
They see tyranny in every inconvenience:
- Being asked to respect someone’s pronouns? Orwellian nightmare.
- A Black history curriculum? Marxist indoctrination.
- Being told their AR-15 is unnecessary at Applebee’s? Stalin 2.0.
And so, they hoard their freedoms — like spiritual preppers. They stockpile their speech, their rights, their rage. Meanwhile, their fear metastasizes. They chain their liberty to grievance, turn their patriotism into paranoia, and call it holy.
It’s no longer about protecting freedom — it’s about controlling the narrative. Because true freedom, in their mind, means only their voice gets amplified. Only their version of morality gets taught. And only their discomfort gets a Fox News segment.
To them, “freedom of religion” means the freedom to impose their religion.
“Freedom of speech” means the right to say whatever they want — with zero consequences.
And “freedom from government overreach” means keep your hands off their guns but please, for the love of God, ban that book from the school library.
In this sacred paradox, fear fuels freedom, and freedom justifies fear. It’s a perpetual motion machine of outrage and insecurity — blessed, sanctified, and live-streamed every Sunday at 10 a.m. (with free donuts and concealed carry encouraged).
Liberalism as a Disease (And They’re the Only Cure)
To the Right-Wing Christian American, liberalism isn’t a political ideology. It’s a spiritual virus, a kind of godless, soy-fueled mind plague that turns honest, truck-driving, beef-eating citizens into latte-sipping, pronoun-sharing agents of the Deep State.
Liberals, in their eyes, are confused souls who believe in things like climate change, affordable healthcare, and treating people with basic human dignity — radical concepts that clearly contradict everything Jesus allegedly stood for. After all, wasn’t He crucified so that Americans wouldn’t have to pay taxes to fund food stamps?
They speak of liberals as if they were cryptids. “I heard they don’t even spank their kids.” “I read that in California, they banned meat and God in the same week.” “My cousin’s friend knows a liberal who lets their child choose their own gender.” This is always followed by a dramatic pause, a slow shake of the head, and a whispered, “Lord have mercy.”
To them, empathy is suspicious. Tolerance is weakness. And wearing a mask during a pandemic? That’s not caution — that’s indoctrination by the Church of Fauci. They mock liberal arts degrees while quoting Facebook memes as scripture, and they believe social justice is just Marxism with better PR.
But fear not. They are the immune system of America. Armed with Scripture, conspiracy, and a YouTube channel with 68 subscribers, they are ready to reclaim the culture by yelling at high school librarians and misquoting Ronald Reagan.
You may be alarmed by the title: “Liberalism As A Disease?” You ask, clutching your NPR tote bag. But fear not: I assure you that liberalism is a disease — a glorious, beautiful affliction of the intellect — and we, the afflicted, are not just the symptoms. We are also the only known cure.
What began as a simple concern for human rights has metastasized into a complete worldview, lifestyle, identity, and diet. And while critics (i.e., people who are wrong) have accused us of hypocrisy, elitism, and inconsistency, we remain undeterred. Why? Because we know something they don’t: we are always evolving — which means we are always right, even when we change our minds every six months.
Join the Fever Dream
So yes — liberalism is a disease. It rewires your brain to crave equity, empathy, and a New York Times login. But once infected, you gain powers: the ability to detect microaggressions at 50 paces, to fact-check someone’s vibes, and to argue with strangers in the comments while still calling it “emotional labor.”
We are the sick and the doctors. The problem and the prescription. The tweet and the ratio. And we won’t stop until the entire world is exactly as we believe it should be — for everyone’s good.
Because we care. Deeply. Just ask us. We’ll tell you.
The Jesus Who Voted Red
Forget everything you thought you knew about Jesus. The sandals? Probably tactical footwear. The robe? Likely red, white, and blue, just faded in old paintings. That whole “love thy neighbor” thing? Misinterpreted. He clearly meant “as long as your neighbor votes Republican and flies a flag larger than his house.”
To the Right-Wing Christian American, Jesus was the original conservative icon. Pro-life (obviously), anti-immigration (because, you know, borders), and 100% against universal healthcare (miracles, not mandates!). He fed the 5,000 not to promote socialism, but to prove how effective a small business model based on fish and bread can be when not taxed into oblivion.
Jesus flipping tables in the temple? That wasn’t righteous anger — that was economic deregulation. Healing lepers? Just good ol’ fashioned charity — not a public health initiative, heaven forbid. And that stuff about camels and needles and rich men? Metaphor! Don’t get all literal unless it’s about homosexuality or women preaching.
If Jesus came back today, the Right-Wing Christian knows where He’d be: not with the poor, the marginalized, or the sinners, but on a Fox News panel with Mike Huckabee, dissecting the socialist undertones of the Beatitudes. His miracles would be livestreamed on Truth Social, and His second coming would be monetized through exclusive NFT collectibles — “Turning Water into Wine: MAGA Edition.”
They know Jesus, you see. The same way they know everything else — through selectively highlighted verses, televangelist rants, and Facebook memes shared by someone named “PatriotGrandma77.” The liberal Jesus — the one who advocated for the meek, the oppressed, the outcasts? Clearly a Democrat psy-op sent back in time to sabotage American exceptionalism.
Patriotism Means Never Questioning Your Country (Unless a Democrat Wins)
To the Good, God-fearing Right-Wing Christian American, patriotism is more than love for country — it’s a blindfolded trust fall into the arms of a flag-waving bald eagle, preferably performed during the national anthem at a high school football game. Questioning America is a sin, punishable by Twitter exile and public shaming — unless, of course, the president is a Democrat. Then it’s not treason, it’s discernment.
When their guy is in power, any critique of America is borderline heresy. You don’t question the military-industrial complex — you thank it for its service. You don’t protest — you pray louder. And you certainly don’t kneel during the anthem unless it’s at church or while loading your AR-15 into the back of your Chevy Silverado.
But let the White House fall into the hands of a Democrat — any Democrat — and suddenly the FBI is part of a satanic cabal, the IRS is a jackbooted thought police, and the Constitution is being rewritten in San Francisco by nonbinary vegans. It’s not unpatriotic to accuse the government of treason when a Democrat’s in office — it’s patriotic vigilance. Paul Revere would’ve done the same if he had a podcast and a Parler account.
Under Republican rule, America is “God’s chosen nation.” Under Democrats, it’s a godless wasteland overrun by drag queens and oat milk. Their devotion to the Stars and Stripes is deep — until that flag is flown at a Pride event, then suddenly it’s “being used for propaganda.” They love the Constitution — especially the parts they think give them unlimited ammunition and limited accountability. The rest of it? Meh. Too many commas.
And nothing — nothing — screams “freedom” like storming a Capitol building because a spray-tanned messiah didn’t win a fair election. That’s not insurrection — that’s patriotic landscaping with zip ties. God bless America… but only the parts voting red.
God Made America, and Then He Rested
It is a well-documented theological truth — at least in the Gospel According to Tucker — that God created the heavens, the Earth, and then the United States of America, complete with amber waves of grain, drive-thru Chick-fil-A, and a divinely inspired electoral college. After that, He took a break. Because why bother continuing once you’ve peaked?
America, to the Right-Wing Christian, isn’t just a country. It’s a covenant. A sacred contract signed in holy barbecue sauce and gunpowder. Other nations are allowed to exist, but only in a sort of NPC, background-character way. They’re here to supply us with coffee beans, cheap electronics, and threats to fight in sermons. But America — America is where God lives, votes Republican, and prefers Toby Keith to Beethoven.
The Founding Fathers weren’t just political leaders. They were basically apostles with powdered wigs. Thomas Jefferson, who wrote passionately about the separation of church and state? Fake news. That was probably added by a liberal history professor somewhere between the 1960s and Satan’s birthday. Washington? A born-again Christian who definitely didn’t own slaves or warn against political parties. Just more myths we cleared up in our homeschool curriculum.
To the God-fearing Right-Winger, America was never built on stolen land, sweat, and contradiction — no, sir. It was anointed. Chosen. Pre-loaded with liberty, freedom, and a suspicious number of megachurches. And every time someone suggests America might not be perfect — say, by pointing out that universal healthcare exists in other, less divinely favored countries — it’s considered a personal attack on the Creator Himself.
If America stumbles, it’s not a systemic issue. It’s because we’ve strayed from the sacred texts — the Bible, yes, but also the Constitution, the Federalist Papers, and old reruns of “Walker, Texas Ranger.” Restoration comes not through reflection, reform, or compassion, but through loud prayer breakfasts, bumper stickers, and casting out liberal demons with voter ID laws.
The Rapture Will Be Republican!
When the trumpet sounds and the skies split open, there’s no question in the Right-Wing Christian’s mind who’s getting beamed up first. It’s them — the chosen few, raptured straight into the gated community of the New Jerusalem, where Jesus drives a lifted truck and the HOA bans critical race theory.
The Left Behind books? They were practically documentaries. Only instead of the Antichrist being a generic Eastern European politician, it’s obviously someone like Bernie Sanders or Rachel Maddow. The Tribulation won’t involve war, famine, or earthquakes — no, it’ll be four years of universal student debt forgiveness and gender-neutral restrooms.
They picture the Rapture as a divine VIP list where only Fox News subscribers make the cut. True believers will vanish from Hobby Lobbies across the nation, leaving only their American flag socks and Chick-fil-A wrappers behind. Meanwhile, liberals will be forced to endure seven years of NPR fundraising drives and electric car mandates.
Of course, the Rapture serves another purpose too — it’s the ultimate gotcha. The cosmic “told you so.” Because if there’s one thing that makes eternal salvation sweeter, it’s knowing your smug atheist coworker now has to live in a FEMA camp run by Hillary Clinton and drag performers.
And don’t be fooled by verses about humility, or that whole “no one knows the day or the hour” bit. The Right-Wing Christian has already decoded the signs. Increased immigration? That’s the beast. Electric school buses? The false prophet. Starbucks changing their holiday cups? Seal number four, baby.
When they speak of the end times, it’s with a mix of dread and smug anticipation. Yes, they fear global collapse — but only so it can be followed by an eternity where Jesus reigns and every knee bows… preferably in camo.
Charity Begins at Home (And Ends at the Border)
The Good, God-fearing Right-Wing Christian American is all about charity. That’s why they tithe — not to support community outreach or aid the poor, but to help Pastor Chad upgrade the LED wall behind the pulpit and maybe expand the church parking lot to fit more lifted trucks with “Thin Blue Line” decals.
They’ll tell you the Bible commands us to love and serve — and they do! Every Thanksgiving, they donate a single can of creamed corn to a food drive. And if that’s not enough, they’re more than happy to pray for the poor. Because nothing satisfies hunger like spiritual vibes and a John 3:16 bookmark.
But charity, of course, must be deserved. It’s for people who look like they tried — meaning they go to church, never kneel during the anthem, and preferably have the decency to be white and born in the same zip code as them. That Guatemalan mother fleeing gang violence with her child in tow? Sorry, that’s not need — that’s an invasion. Do you want compassion? Take a number behind the border wall.
They’ll clutch pearls at the thought of food stamps being misused — “What if someone buys lobster?!” — while ignoring that their own church spends more on fog machines than on feeding the local homeless population. It’s not about meeting needs, it’s about maintaining moral superiority while sharing Facebook posts about how Jesus fed the 5,000 with a single Chick-fil-A nugget.
When asked about government programs to help the poor, they bristle: “The church should do that, not the state!” Which would make sense, if the church didn’t also have a million-dollar light show and a youth pastor who DJed at Coachella.
Charity is sacred, sure. But it must be controlled, tax-deductible, and — most importantly — free from the taint of socialism.
The Prosperity Gospel: Because Jesus Wants You to Have a Jet Ski
If Jesus came back today, He’d be driving a Lexus and wearing Yeezys — at least according to the theology of the Prosperity Gospel, which the Good, God-fearing Right-Wing Christian American has embraced like a televangelist embraces an IRS loophole.
The message is simple: God loves you, and you can tell because your bank account is thriving. Poverty is just a sign that someone somewhere isn’t praying hard enough. It’s faith math — the more you give to the church, the more Jesus turns your tithes into dividends. You’re not just donating; you’re investing in your miracle.
And let’s not forget the celebrities of the movement — pastors with Rolexes, private jets, and moral compasses that always point toward the nearest prosperity conference in Tampa. They preach abundance from gold-trimmed stages, quoting scriptures like stock tickers. “God wants to prosper you!” they declare, while their third mansion quietly climbs in Zillow value.
It’s a seductive theology: God as a cosmic ATM, activated by loud prayer, strategic seed-planting, and perhaps a $99 faith-based eBook. The Gospel is no longer about suffering, service, or sacrifice — it’s about manifesting six figures by the time you’re 30, as long as you avoid sin and student loans.
Need healing? Name it and claim it. Need a new truck? Declare it in Jesus’ name. Need a justification for hoarding wealth while the world burns? Simply say, “I’m walking in God’s favor,” and watch as even basic decency is baptized in capitalism.
In this theology, the poor aren’t oppressed — they’re out of alignment. They must have unconfessed sin. Or they didn’t repost that video of Joel Osteen fast enough.
Jesus didn’t ride into Jerusalem on a donkey because He was humble — clearly it was just the Tesla of the time.
Mission Trips, Margaritaville, and Saving the Third World One Instagram Post at a Time
There is no spiritual high quite like the short-term mission trip. For one week — or at least a long weekend — the Good, God-fearing Right-Wing Christian American becomes a globe-trotting disciple of the Lord, bringing the Gospel (and occasionally fluoride) to grateful brown children who’ve been waiting their whole lives for a group of 19-year-olds from Kansas to show up with matching T-shirts.
These trips are about service, of course. Service to both the Lord and the perfect selfie moment. Nothing says “I’m doing the Lord’s work” like a sun-drenched photo of you holding a barefoot toddler next to a crumbling hut — complete with a sepia filter and a caption that reads: “My heart is full. They have so little, but they’re so happy. #blessed #missions #humblebrag.”
Mission trips offer the perfect combination of spiritual fulfillment and international tourism. Pray in the morning, build half a church wall by noon, and be back at the all-inclusive resort for margaritas by 6 p.m. God works hard, but mission-trip Instagram posts work harder.
They don’t speak the language, don’t understand the culture, and don’t stay long enough to actually help — but they do bring a lot of bracelets and awkward puppet shows about Jesus. And isn’t that what global ministry is all about?
Local communities get temporary labor and some rice. The church kids get a chance to “see how good we have it” and go back home with a renewed commitment to never miss another Wednesday youth group (for at least a month). Everyone wins — except maybe the locals, but they don’t have Instagram, so who cares?
And let’s not confuse this with the messy, long-term work of partnering with local leaders, addressing systemic poverty, or understanding postcolonial harm. That’s complicated. This is spiritual tourism with a moral alibi.
As one mission trip participant eloquently put it during a debrief: “I went to Guatemala to change lives… and it turns out, the life I changed was my own.” Indeed. Nothing says transformation like a new profile picture and a renewed sense of superiority.
Don’t you dare suggest Jesus was a pacifist. He flipped tables! That’s basically tactical warfare. And if Jesus were alive today, clearly he’d be open-carrying at a Cracker Barrel, discussing the Second Amendment while side-eyeing anyone with pronouns in their bio.
Conclusion: And Lo, They Were Righteous in Their Own Eyes
So here they stand — the Good, God-fearing, Right-Wing Christian Americans — beacons of virtue, arbiters of truth, defenders of a gospel that, by some divine miracle, always seems to validate their prejudices, protect their power, and never once require them to be inconvenienced by empathy.
They wear their faith like a camouflage vest: visible, aggressive, and bulletproof — not in the name of love, but in the name of culture wars, electoral maps, and personal grievances dressed up as divine persecution. Their Christianity is not the dusty, inconvenient kind found in Scripture — the kind that breaks bread with traitors and washes the feet of the unworthy — no, theirs is a curated religion, surgically stripped of nuance and repackaged for mass consumption somewhere between a Toby Keith concert and an ammo convention.
They claim to follow Jesus, but only if He votes red, owns stock in Exxon, and never once tells them to sell their possessions and give to the poor.
They speak of morality, but only the kind that polices bedrooms, not boardrooms.
They cry for freedom, but only the kind that protects their speech, their worship, and their fears.
They love their neighbor — if the HOA approves, the voting record aligns, and the yard signs are bipartisan-approved.
But even in their certainty, even in the echo chamber of slogans and scripture-memes, there’s a faint whisper beneath it all — the still, small voice they’ve buried under American flags and prosperity doctrine. It speaks not of power or politics, but of humility. Of sacrifice. Of a kingdom not built on walls and weapons, but on mercy, grace, and radical love.
It is the voice of the real Jesus — the brown-skinned, homeless, anti-empire rabbi who’d be denied entry to their gated communities, ignored at their churches, and almost certainly called “woke” for suggesting that maybe, just maybe, the Gospel has something to say about justice.
But that Jesus is inconvenient. He doesn’t endorse their platforms. He doesn’t fit on a bumper sticker.
And so they made a new one — in their image. White. Angry. Affluent. And always ready to vote.
God bless that Jesus…God bless that America…And God help the rest of us liberal, socialist, and sinful heathens.
Until Next Time America. Stay healthy and be safe. I’ll see you in my next column.