Steven LaChance Blog

Dear God,

With Good Friday upon us and Easter approaching, I’ve been sitting heavy with the thought of Jesus—who He was, what He stood for, and how deeply we’ve strayed from His path. I look around today and feel like the stage is set, once again, for a crucifixion. Not just of one man, but of truth, love, and justice themselves. The very foundation of the faith has been hijacked—twisted, weaponized, and rewritten to serve the interests of white, heterosexual men obsessed with power. And they dare to do it in Your name.

Christian nationalism is not Christianity. It is a heresy. It is a betrayal. It is not the Way but a system of fear, hate, and control dressed up in religious language. Jesus came to liberate the oppressed, not to become a mascot for tyrants. Yet somehow, we are living in a time where men like Donald Trump—an agent of the devil, no less than Hitler or any other strongman who ever used religion as a mask—are elevated as messianic figures by people who claim to walk in the light.

How did we get here?

I watch as people justify cruelty and call it holy. Children in handcuffs. Immigrants in cages. Black lives devalued. Trans bodies erased by law. And those in power speak prayers soaked in the stench of hate. The same kind of hate that once nailed Your Son to a cross.

Your truth warns, “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil” (Isaiah 5:20)—yet here we are. A world where people wave crosses and flags in the same hand they use to strike down their neighbors. Where teachings meant to heal are now used to harm. Where the message of Jesus is being rewritten not to save souls, but to secure dominance.

But Jesus? He was never theirs to claim.

He was a brown-skinned, Middle Eastern refugee. A radical peacemaker. A healer. A threat to empire. He walked among the poor, the sick, the outcast—and called them family. If He came today, He’d be turned away at borders, arrested for protest, and killed all over again by the very ones chanting His name in rallies full of rage.

Jesus loved in full color. In full spectrum.

He never once condemned a queer person. Never mocked the gender-diverse. He didn’t concern Himself with who people were told they had to be—He saw them as they were and loved them without conditions. His greatest commandment wasn’t about obedience or tradition—it was about love. “Love one another as I have loved you” (John 13:34). That love had no fine print. No exclusions.

Where others saw sinners, Jesus saw suffering. Where others saw categories, He saw humanity. “There is no longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, male and female; for all are one” (Galatians 3:28). He didn’t care for systems built by men—He came to tear them down.

And now I ask You, God—where does this end? Will they be the ones to crucify the second coming? Will they recognize the Christ they’ve remade in their image—white, straight, American, male—when He returns looking nothing like them?

I worry for the innocent. For the children. For the queer and trans youth who wonder if they are loved by You because they are not loved by those who claim to represent You. I worry for the migrants and the imprisoned, for Black and brown communities under siege. I worry that the world we were meant to heal is being handed over to those who serve only themselves.

We were supposed to build something better. But when the devil came wrapped in patriotism and the illusion of holiness, the masses didn’t rebuke him—they bowed. They voted. They cheered. And in doing so, they betrayed You all over again.

Still, I know love cannot be buried forever.

Even when hate rolls the stone over the tomb—even when justice seems dead—love lives. “He is not here; He has risen” (Luke 24:6). Let that same power rise in us. Let it break chains, silence fear, and burn down every lie that keeps us from each other. Let it raise up a new generation of people who live like Jesus, not just claim His name.

Your truth says, “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” (Amos 5:24). So let it come. Let it flood this broken world. Let it cleanse the gospel that’s been hijacked and restore it to what it always was—liberation.

Because I believe You are not done. And I believe resurrection still comes.

In grief and in faith,

Amen