I Was a Pastor. My Christian Friends Went MAGA and Canceled Me for Following Jesus

Photo by Edwin Andrade on Unsplash

People often say God moves in mysterious ways.

I won't argue with them.

I was a local church pastor for more than two decades. During the 2016 presidential campaign, as I started to ask more questions and as I became more outspoken against the approaching marriage of Church and State I was witnessing, I experienced a massive personal exodus.

I lost hundreds, perhaps thousands of former church friends and co-ministers who disconnected or actively ridiculed me for "falling away from the faith."

A former pastor publicly disparaged me for losing my way.
Longtime Christian friends ghosted me, avoiding eye contact at stores and funerals for mutual friends.
I was blocked on social media by people I used to live and work alongside, apparently trying to teach me a lesson about my heresy through their silence.

And over the last decade, I've watched most of these same people move lock-step with this joyless, loveless, Godless President and betray nearly everything about the life and ministry of Jesus they professed to live their lives for.

They've said they love their neighbor as themselves and have gone all-in with Muslim bans, ICE raids, bathroom bills, and healthcare repeals.
They have claimed to desire a “diverse church” while loudly contesting the value of black lives and the humanity of immigrants.
They've preached about "God so loving the world" and yet have passionately opposed globalization and declared "America First."
They have sworn devotion to a Jesus who healed and fed and welcomed—while they simultaneously persecuted the sick, the hungry, the elderly, the foreigner, and the hurting.

It has been a sickening marvel to witness the hypocrisy of men and women for whom I was no longer "Christian enough" because I welcomed LGBTQ people, questioned the existence of Hell, or the inerrancy of Scripture—justify sexual predators, applaud the deportation of families, defend violent insurrections, and champion genocide.

The same Christians who shunned me for reminding them that Jesus wasn't white, American, or Christian—have become white nationalists in the name of that Jesus. It has been tragic but illuminating.

Over the past few weeks especially as Trump’s second presidency has unfolded, I’ve watched many of the professed Christians for whom my progressive faith expression was problematic, witness the horrors erupting throughout this nation and say absolutely nothing. They have been mute and motionless while all hell has broken loose—and I've noticed.

As has happened so many times over the past ten years, I'm reminded of Jesus' words that whatever we do to the "least of these" (those disregarded and vulnerable and helpless), we do to him. I look at the people who severed ties with me and I realize how glad I am to be where I am and not where they are.

I realize that whatever the personal cost of my perceived moral failure has been in relationship disconnection from them, it's been worth it because it's given me an empathy that for whatever reason now eludes them. It has given me a clear voice where they now have moral laryngitis. Their rejection has pushed me to a more expansive space, to a much larger table. Moving away from their religion, I think I've found closer proximity to Jesus.

As much as I've grieved the loss of these people and been wounded by their condemnation and judgment, I'm grateful that I am in a different place in my spiritual journey.

I'll take my divergence from the "right path" and my deep compassion for hurting people—over rigid orthodoxy and a hardened heart.
I'll gladly take my place outside of their approval and alongside children being brutalized and the weary seeking refuge.
I'll gratefully accept their sentence of damnation in the Afterlife if it means I live this life giving a shit about more than whiteness.
I'll make my home here with the rest of the heretics, apostates, backsliders, and sinners—and with a Jesus they no longer have any interest in.

I was blind and now I see them.

In the comments, talk about the hypocrisy of professed Christians you know or have seen from a distance, and how it has changed you.