“From Fanaticism to Barbarism”
How is it that some Christian ministers—and many faithful followers—can support disinformation that is steeped in racism and xenophobia, distorting the very essence of the gospel? How do they promote an anti-Black and anti-immigrant vision of America while claiming divine approval for their actions?
It genuinely breaks my heart. Yet, I cannot say I am surprised.
History is littered with instances where faith has been wielded as a weapon instead of a source of healing. We have witnessed the Crusades, the Inquisitions, the justification of slavery from pulpits, and colonization draped in the guise of a divine mission. Time and again, acts of violence and exclusion have been cloaked in sacred language and adorned in holy garb—all in the name of a God who embodies pure Love.
I share these thoughts not out of judgment, but from a place of deep concern and profound sorrow that stems from seeing sacred truths distorted. As someone who has been shaped by the Christian tradition, I feel an even greater weight of responsibility to speak truthfully. If we, who are part of this faith community, do not confront its darker aspects, then who will?
I am continually reminded of the need for vigilance—guarding against fanaticism, whatever form it may take: be it a white collar, a priestly stole, a cardinal’s hat, or even a uniform or a politician's flag pin. Sometimes, this fanaticism masquerades behind selectively chosen scripture passages, twisted and manipulated to target those whom Jesus instructed us to love.
Be cautious of those who assert they possess “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,” as if it were a trophy to be claimed rather than a profound, mysterious journey to be engaged with humility.
There’s a poignant quote that resonates deeply within me, a somber reminder inscribed at the site of a tragedy in Paris. An anonymous mourner left a bouquet of roses accompanied by words from the philosopher Diderot: “There is only one step from fanaticism to barbarism.”
Each time I reflect on that quote, it halts me in my tracks. It serves as a stark reminder that our convictions—no matter how spiritual they may appear—can lead us down a path to cruelty if they are not tempered by compassion, curiosity, and humility.
I continuously return to the essential question: Does this path lead to love? Does it honor the sacredness of others, especially those who are vulnerable and marginalized?
Because if it does not, then it cannot possibly be of God.