Tag: focus

Oppressors don’t invent new rules; they recycle the same playbook that brought them to the dance. When I played team sports, every team had the same rulebook—but each team built its own playbook, adjusting the scheme to neutralize an opponent’s strengths. The rules didn’t change; the strategy did.

That’s what we’re facing now. When tragedy strikes, we’re told to be “empathetic” so long as it’s palatable to certain groups. We’re told to pray and send “good vibes” as long as our prayers don’t disturb anyone’s comfort. In this nation, even “human decency” often comes with conditions.

Pastor Kristian A. Smith once said he doesn’t just want Christians to be more biblically literate—he wants us to be better people. That lands hard because so many of us think we already know what Jesus wants from us in the face of the evil we’re witnessing. But if we’re honest, we’ve been off base.

Take Jesus’ teaching: “Do not resist an evildoer, but if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also”(Matthew 5:39). We’ve preached passivity from that line, as if surrender somehow convicts the aggressor. Naw, bro—context is everything.

In the world Jesus was addressing, folks touched others with the right hand; the left was reserved for unclean tasks. A strike to the right cheek meant a backhand—a gesture of domination used on someone deemed beneath you. In some legal discussions of that era, a backhanded blow carried a heavier penalty because it was the ultimate public insult to one’s dignity.

Jesus wasn’t telling people to accept humiliation. Turning the left cheek forces a decision: the aggressor must either back down or strike with the open palm—the way you would strike an equal. That move is not cowardice; it’s moral jiu-jitsu. It rejects shame, exposes the hierarchy, and declares, “My honor doesn’t come from you; it comes from God.”

Imagine if we lived like human dignity actually had greater value than optics. Imagine a world where humiliation had a cost. But in the old playbook, domination is the point—silence, submission, and stillness are the goals.

I refuse to be timid in a world that misuses my faith to keep me docile. Christ did not call me to be humiliated in the name of “progress.” The same Jesus who taught cheek-turning as resistance also flipped tables in a rigged economy (Mark 11:15–17; John 2:13–17). That wasn’t a tantrum; it was a targeted act to restore the dignity of those being exploited.

So miss me with cheap grace that baptizes compromise. Don’t just say, “It’s okay, you’ll be better.” Stop it. Don’t only pray about a situation; pray that God makes you an answer to that prayer (James 2:17). God has not called you to passivity. God has called you to move the needle, expose the plan, and adjust your strategy.

The playbook of oppression hasn’t changed:

• Shame to shrink you.
• Silence to isolate you.
• Spiritual gaslighting to domesticate you.

So change your strategy:

• Name the insult and stand in God-given dignity (Genesis 1:26–27).
• Refuse the shame and demand equal treatment (Matthew 5:39).
• Disrupt exploitative tables and rebuild just ones (Mark 11:15–17; Isaiah 58).
• Pray and act—faith with works (James 2:14–18).
• Organize courageously in beloved community (Acts 2:42–47; Micah 6:8).

The rulebook of the Kingdom hasn’t shifted. But it does require holy adjustments in a hostile arena. So—change your scheme. Reclaim your dignity. Confront the blow. Overturn the table. Win—with conscience, courage, and community—by any means necessary that honor the God who stamped you with glory.

Scripture to meditate on: Matthew 5:38–42; Micah 6:8; Isaiah 58:6–12; Mark 11:15–17; James 2:14–18.

Reflection prompts:

1. Where have I confused passivity with Christlikeness?
2. What “table” in my context needs overturning—and what would rebuilding look like?
3. How can I become part of the answer I’m praying for this week?