When Jesus Becomes a Mascot

When we Wear the Name, but Ignore the Way

This isn’t a political blog.

It’s a human one.

Because Christianity is not, at its core, a voting block or a cultural power play. It’s about the same humanity God loved enough to send His Son for. God’s love was never small, selective, or tribal. It was for the world (John 3:16).

That’s the baseline.

And it’s why my heart is heavy, because I think we’ve missed the mark. In too many places, we’ve replaced our identity in Christ with an identity in tribes, power, and man-made values. We’ve made God into our own image while erecting golden idols that are not of God. Then we’ve done it all “in Jesus’ name,” like Jesus is a mascot for our endeavors instead of the King who confronts and reshapes us.

The Bible says the world will hate Christians (John 15:18). But let’s be honest, why are “Christians” giving the world reasons to hate us?

This is a stark reminder that we have to do better.

Before I point fingers, I need to be honest

I’m not writing this from some clean, finished place. I plead Philippians 3:12–14, “Not that I have already reached the goal… but I make every effort…”

I’m working through it too.

I’ve had moments where I cared more about being right than being loving. I’ve had moments where I was quicker to react than to listen. I’ve even had moments where my tone got shaped more by the moment than by Jesus. I’m not exempt from the pressures I’m talking about.

That’s why this can’t just be a rant. It has to be repentance.

And I also need people to see this clearly: none of this changes by willpower alone. The kind of change we’re talking about is spiritual. It’s the work of the Holy Spirit, not just better behavior, better messaging, or better arguments.

The Holy Spirit doesn’t just inform us. He transforms us. He convicts, heals, strengthens, and produces real fruit in real people (2 Corinthians 3:18; Romans 12:2; Galatians 5:22–23; John 15:4–5). That’s what we need, not a better brand of Christianity, but a deeper work of God in us.

The disconnect is bigger than we want to admit

Part of the problem is discipleship. The church has failed to equip people and introduce them to real transformation. I used to think today’s Christians were more informational than transformational. Now I question both of those things, because there seems to be a massive disconnect between the Jesus of the Scriptures and the Jesus being proclaimed today.

We keep saying “truth,” but we seem strangely comfortable with contempt. We keep saying “biblical,” but the fruit looks nothing like Jesus. And we keep giving platforms to people who mention the name of Jesus when they have no fruit, and then we justify it because they say the things we like to hear (2 Timothy 4:3–4). We’ve confused popularity for credibility.

Just because you say the “right” Christian lingo doesn’t make you a Christian. Jesus says in Matthew 7:21–23 that not everyone who says, “Lord, Lord,” will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of the Father.

Jesus didn’t say you’ll know them by their vocabulary. He said you’ll know them by their fruit (Matthew 7:16–20).

Just because someone knows the right Christian lingo does not mean they’re walking in the way of Jesus.

One example among many: racism

I grew up in a small town with a racial divide that wasn’t subtle. It was literally split by a railroad track, the old “other side of the tracks” line people said like it was normal. So when I talk about racism, I’m not doing it as a headline-chaser. I’ve watched what it does up close, on more levels than I can count.

I’m a white dad with a Haitian American son, and I’ve seen it up close, the comments, the looks, the way people treat him differently because of the color of his skin. If the church can explain that away, then we’re not defending truth, we’re defending distance. So I’m not interested in excuses, downplaying, or “it’s not that bad.”

History already showed us where that leads. Those Civil Rights photos are proof that you can claim Jesus and still end up on the wrong side. I want better than that, for my kid, for my community and for the church.

And it’s not just the photos.

I have seen the letters that were sent to churches during the 60s urging them to stand firm against Civil Rights. And the truth is, we’re not that far removed. It wasn’t ancient history. It was our parents’ and grandparents’ lifetime. Some of the people who wrote those letters, endorsed those ideas, or stayed silent were active in churches not that long ago.

That’s what makes it such a warning. Not just that it happened, but that it happened with Bible language, religious certainty, and people who were convinced they were defending something “godly.”

It’s a reminder that the church can be sincerely religious and still be deeply wrong.

Another example: immigrants, missions, and distance

My son is also an immigrant, who is proud of his Haitian roots.

And I have still heard and have read where Christians say that ALL immigrants should go back to their country, and in his case, to his “shit-hole” country, as it’s been called.

Think about that disconnect. The very places some people talk about with contempt are the same places Jesus pointed us toward when He told His followers to go into all the world and make disciples (Matthew 28). We talk about “the nations” like a sermon point, then talk about actual people from those nations like they’re a problem to be removed.

It’s hard to care about people from a distance, so we reduce them to slogans. It’s easy to love “humanity.” It’s harder to love humans.

And here’s the gut-check. If you read that quote about Haiti being a “shit-hole” country and your first reaction was, “A pastor shouldn’t use language like that,” but you don’t feel the same urgency about Christians speaking that way about image-bearers, then I might be proving the point. We are sometimes more concerned about protecting our position than living out the teachings of Jesus.

Now, to be clear, I do believe in immigration laws. I believe a nation should have a system. Even in Jesus’ time, the Roman world had structures around who “belonged” and who didn’t, citizenship status, legal residence, and even expulsions when leaders wanted to clamp down. So yes, I believe people should have a clear and direct process to be part of the United States and gain legal status. That’s not controversial, it’s practical.

But here’s what should be controversial: when Christians talk about human beings with contempt, when we flatten people into problems, when we use distance as an excuse to stop caring.

In her book, Traveling Mercies, Anne Lamott said it well: “You can safely assume you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out He hates all the same people you do.”

That line should haunt us, because it’s not theoretical. It shows up every time we justify cruelty, dismiss suffering, or call something “biblical” that looks nothing like Jesus.

How the church lost the plot

In a lot of places, churches tried so hard to be seeker-friendly that we became gospel-light.

We built services that felt safe, familiar, and easy to consume, but didn’t actually call people to die to self, pick up a cross, and follow Jesus. We were afraid that clear truth would make people leave, so we traded depth for a waterdowned gospel. We turned the blood of Jesus into kool-aid. I am guilty as charged.

And that’s how you end up with a crowd that knows the language but not the life.

A culture that can quote a phrase but can’t practice forgiveness.
A room full of opinions, with very little transformation.

And it’s fair to say this part out loud too: some pastors have stayed silent. Not always because they don’t care, but because they’re afraid. Afraid of losing people, losing giving, losing influence, losing the “numbers.”

And sometimes we stay quiet because we worry we’ll be labeled “too political.”

But let’s be clear: this isn’t politics. It’s humanity. It’s the kind of humanity God loved enough to send His Son for (John 3:16). Calling people to dignity, truth, repentance, and love is not partisan, it’s basic obedience.

If saying what Jesus said gets you labeled political, then the label is broken, not the gospel.

When fear of backlash becomes the driver, you don’t lead anymore, you manage. And the gospel doesn’t need managers. It needs shepherds.

This is where the Holy Spirit matters

The Holy Spirit doesn’t just inform us. He transforms us. He convicts without crushing, He heals what’s wounded, He exposes what’s hidden, and He produces real fruit in real people.

If the goal is only “be nicer,” we’ll fail the moment we feel threatened.
If the goal is only “say it better,” we’ll keep drifting back into performance.

But if the Holy Spirit is actually forming us, something deeper happens. Not perfection, but real change. Truth without arrogance and a love that doesn’t depend on agreement.

We need the Spirit to do what we cannot do on our own, soften what’s hardened, remove what’s fake, and produce the kind of fruit Jesus actually talked about.

So here’s the challenge

Love people more than your position.
Stay curious.
Remain humble.
Sit at bigger tables.

Because if God so loved the world, then the table should be one of the most subversive, surprising, and sacred places of all.

Not a place to win, but a place to witness. Not a place to perform, but a place to practice the way of Jesus.

And if we’re going to carry the name of Christ, then we cannot keep giving the world a version of Him that looks like us at our worst instead of Him at His best.

The goal isn’t to sound Christian, it’s to look like Christ.

And the only way that happens is if the Holy Spirit does what only the Holy Spirit can do, starting with me.