Sometimes, I wonder if Jesus would even recognize large swaths of American Christianity today. That itinerant rabbi who preached about loving your enemies, feeding the poor, and who ended up on the cross because he confronted religious and political powers – remember him? If he time-traveled to 2025’s heartland, he’d be baffled by churches that have become partisan pep rallies. It’s an entire phenomenon that looks eerily like Stockholm syndrome, where the faithful have grown dependent on a political movement that’s holding them captive.
Much of American Christianity has replaced its original love affair with the teachings of Jesus for a newer fling with political power—and MAGA is the brand name du jour.
This isn’t about making you feel comfortable in your faith bias. Nope. It’s about calling out the fact that many sincere folks are in a hostage situation but don’t see the chains. So, let’s take a deeper dive into how MAGA politics turned much of American Christianity into a captive audience and why it’s time for an intervention (or exorcism).
Revisiting Jesus
Before we even bring MAGA into the conversation, let’s remind ourselves about Jesus. He wasn’t exactly on board with the empire. Christ repeatedly butted heads with religious leaders who were very on board with the empire. He was also extremely clear about rejecting violence and retribution. Remember that whole “turn the other cheek” thing?
Now, if the historical and biblical Jesus had choice words for religious gatekeepers who cozied up to power, it’s curious that many modern church leaders are doing precisely that—cozying up to any political ideology that strokes their ego or promises them influence. It begs the question: who’s benefiting from this arrangement? Because it sure doesn’t look like the everyday congregants, who often get guilt-tripped into compliance.
Falling for the Captor
Stockholm syndrome is all about identifying with your captor—defending and justifying their actions as if it’s your own survival on the line. Put simply, it’s when someone who’s being mistreated or manipulated starts praising their manipulator. Sound familiar?
In a lot of MAGA-aligned churches, folks have come to see political power as synonymous with God’s favor. They’ll justify nastiness, bigotry, and divisive rhetoric because they’re convinced it’s all for “God’s kingdom.” It’s as if they think that as long as the captor occasionally name-drops the Bible or hosts a prayer breakfast, that’s a sign of genuine piety. Over time, the mind-numbing repetition of fear-based talking rhetoric about immigrants, liberals, or anyone not part of the fold cements the idea that these political leaders are “fighting the good fight.” And once you’ve identified them as the “good guys,” you’ll leap to their defense—even if those defenses twist Jesus’s teachings beyond the breaking point.
Fear Is a Terrible Motivator—but It Works
You can’t have Stockholm syndrome without a strong element of fear—fear of what happens if you leave your captor’s side. Within many corners of American Christianity, that fear comes in multiple flavors. There’s the fear of not being a “true Christian,” the fear of moral decay, the fear of “leftist agendas,” or the fear of losing religious freedom. Seriously, if you want to raise your blood pressure, tune into any talk radio station that doubles as a pulpit. The central message is typically, “They’re coming for your faith. The only hope is to stick with us.”
This fear-based approach is brilliant if you’re looking to keep people in line. Want them to vote a certain way? Spin a “culture war” narrative that turns the ballot box into a crusade. Want them to ignore questionable behavior from Christian leaders or politicians? Talk about how the “enemy” is worse, so that justifies any means to an end. Over time, you’ll see folks defending everything from corruption to bigotry under the banner of “at least we’re on God’s side.” That’s how deeply the fear can sink its hooks.
Guilt, Shame, and the Us-vs.-Them Gospel
Where fear stops, guilt and shame pick up the slack. Traditional Christianity talks about sin, guilt, and repentance, but it’s couched under personal/spiritual growth and turning away from destructive actions. What we’re seeing now is a step further. This well-oiled guilt machine insists you either pledge your loyalty or betray your faith. That dualistic thinking—us vs. them, saved vs. lost, conservative vs. liberal. It brews a cocktail of shame that keeps people from asking real questions.
Question your church’s alliance with a politician who lives the polar opposite of “blessed are the peacemakers,” and you’re labeled a sell-out or a heretic. That’s the ultimate kicker of a hostage situation: the threat of excommunication or ostracization if you even think about stepping out of line. And if your entire social circle is in that community, losing it isn’t just inconvenient—it can be devastating. So, you stay, you defend the captor, you memorize the talking points, and you keep that bubble nice and thick.
Faith or Flag?
Enter MAGA. It’s not just a hat or a campaign slogan—it’s become an identity for many evangelicals. Churches wave flags in their sanctuaries, run Fourth of July tributes with more gusto than an Easter service, and conflate “America First” with “God’s will.” Now, having a political opinion isn’t the problem. The problem is when your political alignment so thoroughly absorbs your faith that the two become indistinguishable. At that point, you’re not worshiping a Savior—you’re worshiping a movement.
Jesus’s teachings—things like caring for refugees, supporting the marginalized, and turning from vindictive behavior—get put on the back burner. Instead, you’ll hear sermons about reclaiming America for Christ, as if God’s biggest priority is national dominance. It’s a theological pivot that quietly shifts from the kingdom of God to the kingdom of “us,” drawing lines to keep “them” out. And if you question that, well, guess who gets cast into the outer darkness?
Defending the Indefensible
Textbook hostage scenarios often involve hostages finding excuses for the captor’s worst behavior. In MAGA Christianity, believers find themselves defending public figures who show very little of the virtues Scripture upholds—love, joy, peace, kindness, patience, you know the drill. It’s jarring to witness folks rationalize cruel policies or vile public statements because “this is a fight for religious freedom,” or “God can use flawed people.”
Yes, God can use flawed people. But there’s a difference between acknowledging imperfection and justifying cruelty. The moment we start labeling everything from belligerent tweets to oppressive policies as “God-ordained,” we’ve lost the plot. That’s when you know the captivity is complete: the hostages have become ambassadors for their captor’s mission, no matter how contradictory it is to the teachings of Christ.
Where Did Jesus Go?
Perhaps the most damning evidence of spiritual Stockholm syndrome is how rarely Jesus’s actual words come into play. Sure, the name “Jesus” gets dropped (He’s the brand, after all), but the sermons and rally speeches rarely reflect his modus operandi. Jesus was no friend of empire-building, yet we see modern churches lining up behind a distinctly empire-minded agenda. Jesus was known for championing the marginalized, yet how often do we hear about immigrants, refugees, or the poor unless it’s wrapped in a political condemnation?
It’s like Jesus has become a mascot—a symbol instead of the spiritual center. That’s how hostages talk when they’ve internalized the script: they can recite the captor’s party line about how life is better under their rule, even if it involves ignoring the big, glaring contradictions.
Breaking the Chains: A Call to Reality Check
So, how do we break free? It starts with a willingness to question the narrative. That sounds basic, but in hostage situations, the truth is the biggest threat to the captor. Ask why your church is so enthralled with a political leader or movement that preaches exclusion, fear, and antagonism. Ask if there’s really a biblical basis for it—or if you’re just hearing cherry-picked nuggets from scripture.
Next, real community matters—build circles of people who value honesty and integrity over ideological purity. Reach beyond your usual echo chamber. Find faith expressions that focus on loving God and loving neighbor—not just “my neighbor if they look, vote, and believe like me.” And if you do face ostracism, understand that stepping away from a toxic environment might be the only path to spiritual health.
Lastly, rediscover that radical, boundary-busting Jesus from the Gospels. You know, the guy who called out religious leaders for chasing power and ignoring the heart of the law? Start reading those red letters. It’s incredible how refreshing they can be once you strip away the jingoism and moral panic.
Yes, Hostages Can Walk Free
No, you’re not wrong in noticing how twisted it’s all gotten. No, you’re not crazy for questioning it. If anything, you might be the most sane person in the room. Because if Jesus’s message was truly about liberation, then clinging to a movement that demands unwavering loyalty, offers fear-based propaganda, and fosters an us-vs.-them mindset reeks of captivity, not freedom.
And that’s why the hostage metaphor fits: a majority of American Christians have been coaxed into seeing chain links as badges of honor. The good news? Hostages can walk free.
Sometimes, all it takes is the courage to see things for what they are: a spiritual con game that’s replaced an authentic Gospel with an idol draped in red, white, and blue. Once you realize that Jesus can be found beyond those walls—and that faith doesn’t have to come with handcuffs—you start to wonder why you didn’t walk out earlier. Because faith, at its core, shouldn’t feel like captivity. It should be the very thing that sets you free.
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