Justin Bieber's latest album ends with the pop star delivering an almost eight-minute, spoken-word retelling of the first three chapters of the book of Genesis.

Now the 31-year-old singer has opened up about his own Christian faith on a recent livestream, a clip of which was shared on YouTube. In it, the Canadian-born heartthrob sits over fast-food takeout with some of his crew, discussing the Bible, God, and what it means to be a man.

'Now we get to live free and rather than focus on sin, now we can focus on Jesus, the wonderful savior.'

Many of Bieber's comments revolve around the responsibility he feels he has to others and to God and how he is doing his best not to judge life based on perceived outcomes.

"It rains on the just and the unjust," Bieber says, going on to stress that:

Bad s**t happens to everybody, you know? Bad s**t happens to good people, good s**t happens to bad people. ... Everyone's on the same equal playing ground, and that's hard for people to really comprehend or want to digest because I think it's makes us feel better to be like, 'Well, I'm better than this guy.'

He adds, "I don't want to think I'm better than anybody 'cause you don't know what someone's born into."

'It's the same thing'

The conversation also turns to matters of morality, with Bieber speaking about taking "ownership" as a man and avoiding the sin of adultery:

"If you even think of a woman with lust it's the same thing as actually doing it; committing adultery or whatever," he says, clearly referring to Christ's Sermon on the Mount and Matthew 5:28. "It's the same thing. So if it even just crosses your mind for one second, if you treat a man with anger or something, it's the same as killing a man, scripture says."

- YouTube

Am I worthy?

The singer seems to touch on his own mental battles when he speaks of God's mercy.

"Someone's probably struggling with their own self-image of like, 'You know, am I worthy of love?' And God says you are. You know what I mean? I don't make the rules. But Jesus says that, and I really believe Him."

"I believe He loved us so much," Bieber passionately continues.

He put on skin and bones and came onto this Earth as a person, as a human. Lived a sinless life so that we don't have to be focusing on sin because none of us can do the right thing all the time. And then He literally went to the cross, was lashed, whipped, made fun of, then he rose on the third day defeating death, Hell, and the grave. Now we get to live free and rather than focus on sin, now we can focus on Jesus, the wonderful savior. And I really think He's the king of the world, bro. He's the king of Hollywood. He's the king of L.A., bro. He's the king.

— (@)

Transaction reaction

The men further discuss how and when scripture makes its way into their daily lives, with Bieber revealing that at this point in his career, he does not want to work with people for transactional purposes.

"That's what, like, business is these days," he says. "It's just like, 'I scratch your back, you scratch mine.' And you guys, it's not based on love."

When asked how he learned about his faith and if it simply comes from reading the Bible, Bieber responds by saying much of it has stuck with him after his mother rewarded him for memorizing passages as a child.

"I would get a gold star. So I would just memorize it," he recalls enthusiastically.

Bieber admits he often doesn't know where a particular passage comes from in the Bible — just that God brings it to the front of his mind.

"The scripture says, 'I will remind you the things that I've told you' and He just reminds me," Bieber concludes. "Because He knows what I want. He knows that I want this for other people. So I think He puts it to my brain."

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George Soros ADMITS he’s an atheist

When you hear the name George Soros, one of the words that comes to mind is “globalist.” However, despite his obvious intentions for the world, what few know is what truly fuels his ideology.

“You think ‘open borders,’ which is accurate, but that doesn’t actually describe what he believes. He’s been somewhat reticent to admit publicly what his beliefs are. And so, some people will be like, ‘Oh, he’s a communist. He’s a Marxist. He’s a socialist,’” BlazeTV host Liz Wheeler says on “The Liz Wheeler Show.”

“Well, not exactly. ... In a sense, it would be easier if he were because it would be easier to define and identify the various parts of his ideology and his work, but he’s not. So, what is he? Because globalism and open borders — that’s not really an end. That’s a means to an end,” she continues.

That’s why Wheeler has done a deep dive into Soros’ background, and in doing so she stumbled on a 1998 interview Soros did on “60 Minutes.”

“Are you religious?” the interviewer asked.

“No,” Soros replied.

“Do you believe in God?” the interviewer pressed further.

“No,” Soros again replied, short and quick.

“Soros told us he believes God was created by man, not the other way around, which may be why he thinks he can smooth out the world’s imperfections,” the interviewer narrated.

“So, not to sound preachy here, not to sound religious, but George Soros’ hatred of the United States and our norms and our traditions and our sovereignty is based on hatred of the foundational principles on which our country was built, that of God and Christianity,” Wheeler says.

“And isn’t this always the case? It’s always a hatred of God that motivates them. That’s why they killed Charlie,” she continues.

“They want to destroy all definitions of objective reality, because that is written by God. That’s natural law,” she adds. “That’s why they’re seething with hatred at the United States, because we’re built as a Christian nation to allow us to glorify God. That’s why they want to dehumanize us, because we are made in the image of God.”

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'Last Days' brings empathy to doomed Sentinel Island missionary's story

It would be easy to demonize John Allen Chau, the Christian missionary who died while trying to bring the Bible to a remote tribe. The 26-year-old could have introduced new diseases to the North Sentinel Island community, causing serious harm. He also vowed to invade a community that craves isolation above all.

Now imagine a Hollywood film capturing Chau’s short, dramatic life. The industry isn’t known for sympathetic close-ups on faith, to be generous.

'Whenever we go into places where we’re not comfortable, the first thing is, "I have to impose my point of view. Here’s my worldview."'

Yet veteran director Justin Lin (“Star Trek Beyond,” the “Fast & Furious” franchise) took a less expected path in bringing the young man’s life to theaters.

Justin Lin. Photo: Giles Keyte

Quick to judge

“Last Days” stars Sky Yang as John, a determined Christian who vowed to do something remarkable with his life. He risked everything to travel to the North Sentinel Island, hoping to share Jesus Christ’s message.

The story ended tragically, but Lin’s film portrays Chau as a kind-hearted lad whose complicated life led him to his fate. Lin isn’t a Christian, but he treated the material with care and empathy. That wasn’t his first reaction.

“It’s very easy to judge and dismiss. That’s what I did when the story broke,” Lin told Align of the initial news reports, the kind of “hot take” that swiftly decried Chau’s fateful decision. “It didn’t sit well with me that I was so quick to judge and dismiss him.”

A father's story

An Outside Magazine feature on Chau’s life had a powerful effect on the filmmaker. The story shared Chau’s father’s perspective on his late son, among other details.

That rocked Lin.

“I have a teenage son. As a parent, I know exactly what he was going through, how you’re trying to impart your wisdom, make sure they’re not going through any hardships,” he said. “What I learned from that article was that if you do it on your timeline, and your son is not ready, you just miss each other.”

The project didn’t involve fast cars or intergalactic travel, but the change of pace spoke to the veteran filmmaker.

“I really wanted to try something different,” added Lin, even if he wouldn’t have the kind of blockbuster budget at his back.

“It’s going to be a run-and-gun, small crew,” he imagined before reading more from the real Chau’s diary. “In John’s writing, he was clearly inspired by adventure novels and Hollywood films. ... I’m going to honor that and be the signpost for our film. ... It’s an intimate story, but it has to feel like a big Hollywood film.”

He called in some professional favors to give the film a Tinsel Town sheen that otherwise might not have been feasible.

Still courtesy Pictures from the Fringe

Fresh perspectives

Lin approached Chau’s faith delicately, while acknowledging the dubious decisions he made along the way. A mid-film romance ends unexpectedly, for example, allowing for fresh perspectives on Chau’s quest.

That balance came via an extensive effort on the director’s part.

“Whenever we go into places where we’re not comfortable, the first thing is, ‘I have to impose my point of view. Here’s my worldview.’ I made that commitment early on to say, ‘No,’” he said. “Taking three years of my life [for this film] ... was to connect with his humanity.”

More with less

“Last Days” looks as lush as a $100+ million film, the kind that Lin routinely delivers. He didn’t have those resources nor an A-list cast to bring John Chau’s life to the big screen. Yang is a minor revelation, while Ken Leung’s turn as the young man’s father is heartbreaking.

Lin has a knack for doing more with less.

“I made a credit card movie for $250,000, and that movie opened the door and gave me all these opportunities,” said Lin of “Better Luck Tomorrow,” his 2002 breakthrough made by maxing out his personal credit limit. The film earned $3.8 million theatrically, a tidy sum given the budget. Hollywood swiftly came calling.

“Last Days” may have an indie sensibility, but Lin still felt the pressure to “nudge” the film in certain directions. The real Chau refused to be “boxed in” by society, yet the film industry tried to do just that with the film.

“Can you make this a Christian movie?” he recalled of the behind-the-scenes chatter about “Last Days.” ... I didn’t understand or even appreciate that kind of nudge. ... ‘If you really wanna be marketable, you should do more of this.’ Those conversations for me ended very quickly.”

“That is a challenge with independent films ... the temptation. ... ‘If I give you all this money, can you cast my son?’ Those are all choices you encounter,” he said.

Lin will find himself on more familiar ground with the upcoming “BRZRKR,” based on the Boom! Studios comic book co-created by Keanu Reeves. The “John Wick” star served as an angel investor in “Last Days.”

“I didn’t grow up wanting to make action movies, but I ended up enjoying the process,” he admitted.

The public got a sneak peek at “Last Days” during the Sundance Film Festival earlier this year, months before its Oct. 24 theatrical rollout. The post-screening Q and A left him hopeful he had accomplished what he had set out to do with the film.

“Five minutes in, they could find a common bridge in [the film],” Lin recalled. “We need that now more than ever.”

Why Christians should stop running scared from Halloween

As October comes to a close, "spooky season" is in full form. Stores are packed with Halloween candy, costumes, and decorations.

Some Christians reject Halloween as synonymous with evil. But why is that? And what is the best way for Christians to respond to Halloween?

Make no mistake: Every day on the calendar belongs to God, and none of them belong to anyone else, including the devil.

How it started

The pagan Celts of ancient Ireland celebrated the new year on Nov. 1. So, much like we celebrate the night before New Year's Day, they celebrated the night before (Oct. 31), too.

They called it "Samhain" — a night when they believed the dead in the form of ghosts could return to walk the earth. The Celts built huge bonfires, dressed in costumes to disguise themselves from the ghosts, and made lanterns out of gourds (like pumpkins, although they likely used different gourds). The fires attracted many insects, which attracted bats.

When the influence of the Catholic church began extending into pagan lands, sometimes the two cultures influenced each other. The Catholics celebrated All Saints' Day on Nov. 1 — also known as "All Hallows Day" — which was an occasion to remember the dead, who are supposedly now in heaven.

So Samhain eventually came to be known as "All Hallow's Eve" or Halloween. And the bats, ghosts, costumes, and jack-o-lanterns made of gourds — the trappings of Samhain — continued to be part of the celebration.

Trick-or-treat origin story

In medieval Britain, a practice called “souling” emerged, where the poor would go door-to-door on Nov. 1 or Nov. 2, offering prayers for the dead in exchange for food, often “soul cakes.”

In Scotland and Ireland, a parallel tradition called “guising” developed in which children and young adults disguised themselves in costumes or masks, supposedly to mimic or hide from wandering spirits, and went door-to-door performing songs, poems, or tricks in exchange for food, nuts, or coins.

The term “guising” comes from “disguise,” reflecting the costume element in modern trick-or-treating.

How it’s going

History is important. But so is understanding what is happening now.

In the U.S., Halloween is primarily about one thing: trick-or-treating. Kids love dressing up in costumes and getting free candy, which is why we start seeing Halloween candy displays about 10 minutes after school starts in the fall — if not earlier.

Trick-or-treating is, of course, driven by commercial candy manufacturers, who make a significant portion of their profit from Halloween-related sales of their highly processed, terrible-for-everyone, garbage candy, which is full of dyes and additives (save us, MAHA!). That’s an “evil” we don’t hear enough about.

But there are those who see evil in every Halloween nook and cranny. Those who proclaim it "Satan's day" and a peak time for witchcraft and other evil doings. This seems to be based in great part on alleged comments from satanists and witches that I see posted on social media every October — comments thanking Christians for allowing their children to worship Satan one day a year by trick-or-treating.

That’s stupid. Why would we believe or listen to anything self-proclaimed devil worshippers say?

Make no mistake: Every day on the calendar belongs to God, and none of them belong to anyone else, including the devil. I don't deny people could choose Oct. 31 in particular to celebrate evil. However, for the vast majority of Americans, Halloween is about strolling the neighborhood in costume and collecting candy.

What should Christian families do?

Our highest calling is to love God and love our neighbor. And Halloween brings those neighbors to our door, literally. What if we prayerfully and thoughtfully considered how we can bless those neighbors on Halloween with an eye toward building relationships?

I'm not talking about handing out Christian tracts instead of candy. Don't be that person. But I am talking about eagerly seeking opportunities to connect with at least one if not more families in your neighborhood with whom you can begin to build relationships.

This, in fact, is why God has you where you live.

Let me tell you about what one family did for Halloween. They set up a pole tent in the driveway, hung lights from it, and under the tent placed their BBQ grill on which they cooked hot dogs. A table held buns and condiments, a bowl of Halloween candy, and jello shots for the adults. They publicized this on the neighborhood webpage a day or two before Halloween.

To be clear, they weren't Christians seeking to love their neighbor. They were seeking to promote the father's business. But how might we promote our heavenly father's business similarly?

Here are some ideas:

If you have access to one, a pole tent in the driveway with lights strung on it is very welcoming on a dark night!
Grilling hotdogs is a good idea. Another might be a big crock-pot filled with chili, with paper cups and plastic spoons for serving.
A hot drink station with cocoa, cider, tea, etc.
Fresh-made pumpkin bread or oatmeal cookies in little treat bags as an alternative to commercial candy.
Set out lawn chairs and invite people to sit down and rest for a moment — and if they do, introduce yourselves and get to know their family.
Let your kids dress up and pass out the goodies. If you also allow your kids to trick-or-treat, one of you can hold down the fort while the other takes the kids around the neighborhood.
Let people know a day or two ahead that you welcome them to come by and "sit a spell," as the saying goes.

This will cost you time, effort, and money. But it's a ministry investment in the lives of precious people God has placed in your neighborhood. You can't love them if you don't make an effort to know them, and you can't know them if you never even meet them.

You could also just set out lawn chairs toward the end of the driveway where you will be able to actually see and converse with the adults as you pass out candy. Compliment the kids' costumes. Ask the adults where they live in the 'hood. They won't linger long without a reason to stop at your house, but at least you'll physically meet some of them.

A few do's and don'ts, by way of suggestion

DO wear a costume. Bible costumes are fun. So are a lot of others. Don't be anything that will scare children. Don't be a witch. Don't be the devil (duh).
DON'T hand out Christian literature that talks about how evil Halloween is. In fact, don't hand out Christian literature. I heard someone say once that if you feel you absolutely must hand out some kind of Christian tract, you should be handing them out with full-size candy bars!
DON'T make it all about your kids and their candy. Recruit them to be part of your family blessing the neighborhood, whatever you end up doing.

If you think Halloween is evil, don't hunker down in your house with all the lights out. Unless you live somewhere with no trick-or-treaters, get out there and redeem it.

Halloween is an opportunity for your family to bless others and begin forging relationships with lost people in need of Jesus, all by being a good neighbor.

This article was adapted from an essay originally published on Diane Schrader's Substack, She Speaks Truth.

Why the Bible is suddenly flying off shelves across America

I’ve watched a lot of cultural moments come and go in my lifetime, but this one has felt different.

The shocking assassination of Charlie Kirk didn’t just send tremors through the conservative world — it created a ripple that reached far beyond it. In the days and weeks that followed, I saw headlines I never thought I’d see: reports of a Bible-sales surge unlike anything in recent years.

When the noise of culture gets stripped away, the hunger for truth rises to the surface.

According to Fox Business, more than 2.4 million Bibles were sold in the U.S. in September — a 36% increase over last year.

The Bible-sales surge that coincided with Charlie Kirk’s assassination reveals something profound.

When America faces moments of crisis, people often turn to scripture for hope and answers. While no one can say with absolute certainty what caused the surge, the timing and impact of Charlie’s life and testimony make it reasonable to believe it played a significant role. And I personally believe that his assassination likely contributed to this powerful moment.

A cultural shockwave I'll never forget

Charlie’s assassination on Sept. 10, 2025, shook me to the core. Like so many others in conservative circles, I admired him. But for me, it was more than admiration. Charlie was my role model in Christ — a man who stood unapologetically for Jesus in a culture that often mocked Him. He lived boldly, unfiltered, and unafraid. That resonated with me deeply.

For years, those of us who followed Charlie knew who he was and what he stood for. But it wasn’t until his assassination that millions outside our circle — people on the left, independents, and even those who normally tune out of politics — truly saw him. His name wasn’t just on conservative media anymore; it was everywhere. And in that moment, the world encountered the testimony of a man whose faith was front and center.

That matters. His assassination didn’t just make headlines — it made people think about eternity. It made them think about what kind of man he was and, more importantly, Who he lived for.

This cultural moment reminds me of how believers are called to stand firm even when the world doesn’t understand.

Why people turn to the Bible in times like this

I’ve learned over the years that when tragedy strikes, people instinctively reach for something that doesn’t shake. They reach for something real. For many Americans, that means reaching for the Bible.

We’ve seen this before — after 9/11, during the pandemic, and now again. The Bible-sales surge isn’t just about a number on a spreadsheet. It’s a reflection of millions of hearts suddenly looking for answers they can’t find anywhere else. People may not even fully understand why they’re buying a Bible — but something in them knows they need hope.

Deep down, every person has a God-shaped void. And when the noise of culture gets stripped away, the hunger for truth rises to the surface.

The power of one man's testimony

Charlie’s faith spoke louder in his assassination than most people’s do in their lifetime. I’ve followed him for years, not just for his courage in politics, but for his unwavering love for Jesus. Seeing the way his story spread afterward impacted me profoundly. People who would have never listened to him while he was alive suddenly heard about him everywhere.

I believe some of those 2.4 million Bibles may have been bought by people who wanted to understand why Charlie believed what he believed. Others probably acted out of grief, curiosity, or quiet searching.

StanislavSalamanov/iStock/Getty Images Plus

Whatever the reason, it’s reasonable to believe his testimony was one of several factors prompting people to seek answers in scripture.

The early church experienced the same kind of ripple effect. Persecution never silenced the gospel — it multiplied it. Charlie wasn’t a martyr in the classical sense, but the way God is using his life after his assassination fits that same pattern: light shining in the darkness.

Why the Bible-sales surge matters

To me, this surge isn’t just encouraging — it’s revealing. Beneath the noise of politics and division, there’s still a spiritual hunger in America. People are tired of the chaos. They’re searching for something real. And whether they know it or not, they’re reaching for the only truth that can set them free.

The Bible isn’t just another book on a shelf. It’s living and active (Hebrews 4:12). If even a fraction of the millions who bought a Bible actually open it, read it, and meet the living God, this moment could be the spark of something extraordinary.

But this also means we need to be discerning because buying a Bible isn’t the same thing as being transformed by it.

Reaction or revival?

I remember the wave of church attendance after 9/11. America prayed. Churches filled up. People searched for answers. But as the months passed, that spiritual hunger faded.

Crisis can wake people up, but it doesn’t guarantee lasting change. That’s the question now. Will this Bible-sales surge be a turning point or just a reaction to pain?

Reaction is emotional, but revival is spiritual. Reaction fades, but revival transforms.

Real revival isn’t just a wave of emotion or a spike in sales. According to GotQuestions.org, true revival is a spiritual reawakening that brings a heartfelt return to God and obedience to His word. That’s the kind of revival America needs — not just a cultural reaction to tragedy.

My prayer is that this moment becomes more than a headline, that it becomes a holy spark that ignites something real.

The church — and you and me — must be ready

This is where we come in. If people are turning to the Bible, the church has to be ready to lead them to the Author. And I’m not talking about pastors and leaders alone — I’m talking about all of us. I’m talking about me.

People who might never have stepped into a church are holding a Bible right now. Some don’t know where to begin. Some are skeptical. Some are hungry. If we stay silent, this moment may fade away like so many before it. But if we speak up — if we share the hope we’ve found — we can meet those searching hearts with truth and grace.

Charlie's example and our call

Charlie Kirk lived the kind of bold faith I want to live. He didn’t compartmentalize his Christianity. He proclaimed it from the rooftop, even when it cost him culturally. That’s why he became my role model in Christ. And I believe the best way to honor that kind of legacy is not just to admire it — but to live it.

A Bible sitting unopened on a shelf won’t change a single life. But the Word of God, opened and believed, absolutely will.

This is our moment to shine the light of Christ, to speak boldly, and to live with conviction. Charlie did. Now it’s our turn.

America is reaching for the Bible again. But this time, it’s personal for me. Charlie Kirk wasn’t just a public figure I respected — he was a man whose faith inspired mine. His witness is still bearing fruit, even now. I don’t want to see this moment fade into history as just another cultural reaction. I want to see lives transformed.

That starts with believers like you and me living out the truth we say we believe.

This article is adapted from an essay originally published at Arch Kennedy's blog.

The archbishop who drove the gospel out of England

At Arizona State University, where I teach, faculty were recently told to “decolonize our curriculum.” On the surface, the directive sounded progressive: Expose power structures, elevate marginalized voices, and promote inclusion. But a closer look revealed something deeper.

“Decolonization,” as defined by many academic theorists, has less to do with confronting material exploitation and far more to do with dismantling the Christian worldview itself.

Leftists celebrate the new archbishop as a victory for progress. Yet the victory coincides with the collapse of the church that achieved it.

In today’s universities, decolonization has become a framework for deconstructing Western civilization — its moral assumptions, its epistemology, and, most of all, its biblical foundations. The movement borrows heavily from Marxism: Everything becomes a struggle between oppressors and oppressed, and redemption comes not through faith but through revolution.

Christianity has long condemned greed, injustice, and oppression. It calls for compassion, justice, and humility. The biblical ethic already provides a moral standard against exploitation. What “decolonization” targets, then, is not exploitation itself but the very source of the Christian moral order: creation, sin, redemption, and divine authority. Strip those away, and what’s left is a vacuum quickly filled by ideology — Marxism, postmodernism, or nihilism disguised as liberation. Think Antifa in the ivory tower.

The church follows the university

That same dynamic now defines the Church of England. The recent appointment of Sarah Mullally as archbishop of Canterbury — the first woman ever to hold the title — was heralded as a triumph for “equity” and “representation.” Yet the decision has fractured the Anglican Communion. Churches in Africa and the Global South have declared they will no longer recognize Canterbury’s authority.

Their leaders insist the move abandons biblical teaching: The pastoral office, they say, is reserved for men — not as a symbol of domination but as a form of service patterned after the Old Testament priesthood and Christ Himself. Scripture, not patriarchy, defines this calling.

The irony is painful. The very church that once sent missionaries to Africa now lectures African believers on theology — in the name of “decolonization.” British progressives who claim to defend the oppressed now reject the self-governing authority of African churches, imposing instead a white, European moral framework they no longer believe in.

The logic of ‘liberation’

The academic rationale behind this mirrors what I see on campus. In decolonization theory, patriarchy is treated as a system of control, and dismantling it becomes an act of liberation. But the Christian vision of leadership never equated masculinity with power. It defined male pastoral authority as a burden of service, not a privilege.

This distinction matters. In pagan antiquity, priestesses wielded ritual power at Delphi and other shrines, while biblical religion defined priesthood in terms of obedience and sacrifice. Christianity’s inheritance of that pattern was countercultural — not oppressive. To erase that distinction under the banner of equality is to mistake service for subjugation and hierarchy for injustice.

The irony of ‘progress’

Leftists celebrate the new archbishop as a victory for progress. Yet the victory coincides with the collapse of the church that achieved it. Attendance across England has cratered; belief is evaporating. The light they claim to be spreading has gone out.

Meanwhile, Christianity burns brightly in the very regions now scolded for their “backwardness.” African churches remain faithful, growing, and theologically vibrant — a continuity stretching back to Augustine of Hippo, the African theologian whose writings shaped European Christianity for a millennium.

RELATED: The castration of Christendom

Photo by FILIPPO MONTEFORTE/AFP via Getty Images

If decolonization truly sought to redistribute power, it would look to Augustine’s model: a church grounded in scripture, not ideology; global, not provincial; rooted in divine order, not social theory.

The lesson

When my university asks me to “decolonize” my teaching, I ask in return: into what? If the answer is Marx, Freud, or Foucault — the very European thinkers who replaced faith with power analysis — then the process is just another colonization under a different name.

But if the goal is to return to the Bible’s vision of creation, fall, redemption, and service under Christ, then by all means, decolonize. Reclaim what ideology stole. Because the alternative is what we now see in England — a church that traded revelation for relevance and ended up preaching nothing at all.

Christians should take heed: The light leaving Canterbury won’t stay confined to England.

Christians are refusing to compromise — and it's terrifying all the right people

Only in the upside-down world of elite evangelicalism could repentance look like rebellion.

David French recently made a telling admission: He is "nervous" about "something" that is "stirring in Christian America." That "something," French insists, is that contrary to news that a Christian revival is under way in America, what is actually happening is not revival but "religious revolution."

Revival always looks like revolution to those who've made peace with decay.

The evidence? Jan. 6 (of course), a nuanced Christian debate about empathy, and Charlie Kirk's memorial service.

Authentic revival, according to French, would be focused on the self because true revival "begins with the people proclaiming, by word and deed, 'I have sinned.'"

But so-called MAGA Christianity, he claims, announces a different message: "It looks at American culture and declares, 'You have sinned.'" French continues:

And it doesn't stop there. It also says, "We will defeat you." In its most extreme forms, it also says, "We will rule over you." That's not revival; it's revolution, a religious revolution that seeks to overthrow one political order and replace it with another — one that has echoes of the religious kingdoms of ages past.

And don't be fooled when these revolutionaries call themselves "conservative." All too many conservative Christians are actually quite proudly radical. They want to demolish the existing order, including America's commitment to pluralism and individual liberty, and put their version of Christianity at the center of American political life.

It's clear that French sees the stirring of Christian faith across America — Christians re-engaging in politics, education, and culture — but instead of feeling encouraged or hopeful, he sees it as dangerous. He wants you to believe that ordinary Christians working to build communities shaped by biblical values are flirting with authoritarianism.

But what he can't seem to imagine is that maybe this is what authentic renewal looks like: Christians waking up to the world around them, tired of pretending their convictions don't belong in public life.

Revival, after all, always looks like revolution to those who've made peace with decay.

Domesticated faith exposed

French's nervousness reveals something deeper than politics. It exposes a theology that's been domesticated, one that treats faith as a private matter rather than a public demonstration of allegiance to Jesus Christ.

In his view, repentance is safe only when it stays inside the confines of the individual heart. But Christian faith is not individualistic. Repentance — literally meaning "turning back" or "returning" to God — is not limited to what one person can do for themselves. The Bible does not recognize the division that French asserts.

Instead, when people repent and turn back to God, hearts are transformed and households are changed. And when households change, communities change. And when communities change, culture is transformed.

jokerpro/iStock/Getty Images Plus

Every true revival — from King Josiah's reforms (2 Kings 22-23; 2 Chronicles 34-35) to the Great Awakenings — has looked political to those invested in the old order. That's because repentance, by its nature of not being limited to the self, always has public consequences. You can't toss aside sin and put on the "new self," as the apostle Paul calls it, without eventually dethroning the idols of the city.

The gospel doesn't just save people. It literally institutes a new Kingdom, one in which all reality is reordered around the lordship of King Jesus.

So when French frets about Christians who are "quite proudly radical," he misses the point. He sees a problem with Christians who want to tear down the "existing order" — as if that order has borne good fruit — and assumes they're driven by a lust for power and control. That critique is worse than lazy. It's slanderous.

In truth, these Christians aren't seeking power and control. They're simply refusing to bow to the false gods of our age.

Repentance reshapes reality

The "existing order" that French defends isn't morally neutral, working for the flourishing of all people. No. It's an anti-God order that calls confusion "compassion," celebrates sin, and treats moral clarity as a threat to democracy. It's an order where drag queens read to children, abortion is called "health care," and Christians are pushed to the margins of polite society.

Yet to French, the problem isn't the godlessness but the Christians who dare call it out, stand against it, and seek to reform it. This brand of "respectable" faith demands silence in the face of cultural collapse. It's the faith that turns a blind eye to societal sin over fear that conviction may be mistaken for cruelty or — gasp — power-grabbing.

But a Christianity that never offends the world will never change it. Jesus didn't die to make the world more comfortable. He died to make you and me new people, and new people — those whose allegiance to Jesus bears conformity to his Kingdom — inevitably shape the world around them.

Call it "Christian nationalism," call it whatever you want, but the truth is this: The existence of the Kingdom of Heaven, which Jesus inaugurated, means that Christians right now are living out obedience to Christ. Christ is reigning, and that means His people, wherever they live, make their communities and countries more Christian.

And a more Christian world requires confronting the idols of our time and tearing them down, not politely negotiating with them.

Perhaps French is right: A revolution is under way. But it's not happening in Washington. It's unfolding quietly in small-town homes and churches across America, where Christians are repenting, rebuilding, and reordering their lives around the Kingdom of God.

Revolution unto God

We're now back to where we began: Only in the upside-down world of elite evangelicalism could repentance look like rebellion.

But maybe that's exactly what real repentance is supposed to look like in a culture that is so drunk on self-worship that it has not only rejected God or tried to erase Him, but it has tried to become like God.

French sees danger where there's actually deliverance: A generation of Christians waking up, tired of compromise, refusing to bow to Nebuchadnezzar's statue. He mistakes courage for cruelty and conviction for control. But the truth is simple: You can't have revival without resistance, and every age that bows to godless idols sees repentance as subversion.

If repentance and revival is returning to God, then revolution is what happens when enough people finally do.

Blue state punishes Christian parents — but progressive lie crumbles in the process

Meet Lydia and Heath Marvin.

The Marvins are Christian parents of three children. Compelled by their Christian faith, the couple have fostered eight young children since 2020. But they recently learned that they will no longer be able to provide foster children with a stable home after the Massachusetts Department of Children and Families revoked their license to foster.

Their story is yet another warning to every Christian who still thinks neutrality is an option.

The reason? Because they stood on their Christian values, refusing to sign the state's "gender affirming policy" and "affirm the LGBTQIA+ identity" of foster children, according to WBZ-TV.

State officials officially revoked the Marvins' foster license in April.

"We had asked: Is there any sort of accommodation, can you waive this at all? We will absolutely love and support and care for any child in our home, but we simply can't agree to go against our Christian faith in this area. And we're ultimately told no, you must sign the form as is or else you will be de-licensed," Lydia explained.

The faithful Christian couple appealed the decision — but lost.

It's no shock that Massachusetts, a state controlled by Democrats, believes that compelling loving parents to affirm LGBTQ ideology is a reasonable measure to "protect" children. But the Trump administration disagrees. The administration recently sent a letter to the DCF, according to WBZ, calling the policies "deeply troubling, clearly contrary to the purpose of child welfare programs, and in direct violation of First Amendment protections."

Yes and amen.

But there is another aspect of this story that Christians should find alarming.

A generation ago, Americans were told that embracing the LGBT movement was about tolerance, kindness, and freedom. Christians were promised that the cultural "progress" of the LGBT movement would not encroach on their own families, faith, or freedoms.

"All we want is the right to marry. How will my gay marriage hurt you?" we were told.

But as this Massachusetts case proves yet again, that was never true. It was never about tolerance. Instead, it was always a demand for affirmation and compliance — or else.

The promise — the progressive narrative that "acceptance" is not forced affirmation — was a lie.

When Christian parents — who are willing to sacrifice their resources to love and support young children in dire need — can lose their foster license not for mistreating children but for refusing to affirm an ideology that violates their conscience and faith, it's clear we've moved from freedom of belief to a mandate for belief. The state is no longer neutral. Rather, it's enforcing a new moral orthodoxy that treats biblical truth and conviction as disqualifying.

The result is as shocking as it is tragic: Children become victimized again.

Children in foster care are already victims of unfortunate and tragic circumstances. They need stability, love, and guidance. But Massachusetts officials have decided to victimize them further, reducing them to casualties of an ideological war. The state has decided to turn away good, compassionate, Christian parents simply because those parents refuse to recite the LGBTQ creed.

That's not how you protect children. It's cruelty disguised as compassion.

And it's especially tragic when you consider the facts on the ground. From the Boston Globe:

There are only 5,500 licensed foster families in the state for the 8,000 to 9,000 kids in the foster system. When DCF can’t find foster parents for kids, they often end up in group homes instead.

The situation unfolding in Massachusetts is the result of a culture that trades truth for ideology. Once a society decides that personal identity outweighs objective reality, every person must bend the knee. Schools, businesses, institutions — and now even foster parents.

The godless progressive agenda demands that all must become temples of affirmation where any hint of dissent is treated as blasphemous heresy.

But Christians cannot — and must not — comply. Love does not require lying. Compassion does not require compromise. To affirm what is false is not mercy but betrayal. God bless Lydia and Heath for standing firm on the solid rock of Christ and His truth in the face of such pressure.

Their story is yet another warning to every Christian who still thinks neutrality is an option. In this cultural moment, there is no third way. Certain state actors have made belief in leftist creeds and ideologies a litmus test for orthodoxy — and biblical truth is deemed heretical.

Still, we should have hope. There has never been a better time to be a Christian than right now. We have always been called to stand apart from the world. We are salt and light.

And no matter how dark it sometimes feels, darkness cannot overcome the light.