You Can’t Serve Two Masters (But America Keeps Trying)

You Can’t Serve Two Masters (But America Keeps Trying)

A white dove perched calmly on the barrel of a military tank against a dark, stormy sky, symbolizing the tension between peace and power.
Image created by Dall-E

Let’s just say the quiet part out loud: nationalism and Christianity are not friends. They aren’t teammates. They’re not holding hands on a unity walk. They are fundamentally opposed forces—serving two very different masters. And no, you can’t blend the two without ending up with something unrecognizable, unbiblical, and often just plain unhinged.

Yet here we are, in a moment where “Christian Nationalism” is no longer whispered in the corners of fringe Facebook groups but shouted proudly from pulpits, rally stages, and congressional podiums. They’ve swapped out WWJD bracelets for American flag lapel pins and convinced themselves that Jesus died to protect the Second Amendment.

But before we canonize the Constitution, let’s take a minute to remember that Jesus never pledged allegiance to a flag.

You Can’t Serve Two Masters

Let’s start with a simple line from Jesus that somehow got memory-holed by the patriotic faithful: “No one can serve two masters” (Matt. 6:24). It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a warning.

Jesus wasn’t anti-country—he was anti-idolatry. And nationalism, by its very nature, demands allegiance. It asks you to put your identity in your nation first. That may sound harmless to some, but Christianity isn’t about fitting in. It’s about following a radical teacher who lived and died outside the power structures of his day.

Nationalism wants to define who belongs and who doesn’t. Jesus built a movement by flipping that script—welcoming outsiders, breaking boundaries, and preaching a kingdom that had nothing to do with borders, armies, or tribal loyalty.

When Christians try to blend Jesus and nationalism, one always gets diluted. And spoiler alert: it’s never the one with tanks.

Jesus vs. Empire

It’s funny (and by funny, I mean tragic) how so many folks waving the flag for Christian nationalism completely ignore that Jesus was killed by a nationalist empire.

Rome wasn’t a backdrop in the Gospels—it was the boot on everyone’s neck. And Jesus didn’t cozy up to it. He defied it. He refused to play its power games. He healed outsiders, broke Sabbath laws, and dared to suggest that Caesar didn’t deserve the kind of reverence God did.

That wasn’t just spiritual rebellion. That was political insubordination.

Early Christians got this. That’s why they wouldn’t say “Caesar is Lord.” That’s why they got thrown to lions. They didn’t blend faith with empire. They rejected the empire to follow a crucified Messiah. And now? Too many modern Christians would rather be the empire than question it.

We’ve traded martyrdom for influence. Humility for platform. Servanthood for power.

The Fruit Doesn’t Lie

Jesus said you’d know a tree by its fruit. So let’s do a little fruit inspection.

What does nationalism produce? Fear. Division. Superiority. A constant craving for enemies. An obsession with winning. The belief that God loves us more than them—whoever “them” is this week.

And what does the Spirit produce? Love. Joy. Peace. Patience. Kindness. Goodness. Faithfulness. Gentleness. Self-control. (Gal. 5:22–23, in case that one also slipped through the cracks.)

You can’t grow both. One will choke the other out. One turns your faith into a weapon. The other turns it into a way of life.

When your Christianity needs culture wars to stay relevant, you’ve already lost the plot.

You’re Not Called to Save America

Let’s be real: America is not the promised land. It’s not the kingdom of God. And Jesus didn’t die to preserve a political system or defend your “way of life.” He died to upend the systems of power that keep people in bondage—spiritually, socially, and politically.

Nationalism wants domination. Jesus preached liberation.

So if your faith makes you clutch pearls at immigrants, defend the powerful, and legislate your beliefs onto others, that’s not Christianity—it’s cosplay with a cross necklace.

You want to follow Jesus? Good. But understand this: the cross and the flag are not co-captains. One is a symbol of sacrifice. The other is a symbol of state. You can’t carry both. At some point, you’re going to have to drop one.

Choose wisely.

 


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About Stuart Delony
I’m Stuart Delony, a former pastor who walked out of the church but couldn’t shake the ways of Jesus. These days, I host Snarky Faith—a podcast and platform that wrestles with faith, culture, and meaning from the fringe. I’m not here to fix Christianity. I’m here to name what’s broken, find what’s still worth keeping, and hold space for the questions that don’t have clean answers. If you’ve been burned, disillusioned, or just done with the noise—welcome. You’re in good company. You can read more about the author here.
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