​You can’t follow Jesus and despise the people who brought us Jesus

America suffers from more than political unrest. We are in a spiritual drought — a values famine so deep that even the conservative movement, once grounded in virtue, now splinters under the weight of ego and bitterness. Too many voices compete for authority on the right, but too few echo the one voice that matters: God’s.

This isn’t about pundits or personalities. It’s about the soul of our movement and the substance of our faith. Somewhere along the way, many conservatives forgot a truth written plainly in Scripture: It is Christian to love and support the Jewish people.

If we can’t love our spiritual cousins — the people through whom our faith was born — what are we even defending? What good is a ‘Christian’ movement that forgets the Christian part?

When Jesus was asked which commandment was greatest, He didn’t hedge: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments” (Matthew 22:37–40).

Two commandments. No asterisks, no exemptions for those who worship differently or descend from another people. Jesus didn’t love selectively. He loved sacrificially.

The roots of the faith — and the movement

Conservatism, at its best, has always drawn strength from virtue — faith, family, freedom, and responsibility. Yet we’re watching parts of the movement trade virtue for venom. Courage has been confused with cruelty, boldness with bitterness, and orthodoxy with outrage.

That confusion has allowed an old poison to re-emerge: open hostility toward Jews and Israel. It comes disguised in respectable terms like “nationalism,” “authentic Christianity,” or “anti-globalism.” But strip away the labels and you find something that bears no resemblance to Christ.

Scripture leaves no doubt: “I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse” (Genesis 12:3). That was God’s covenant with Abraham — the father of Israel and of faith itself. You cannot claim to follow the God of Abraham while despising Abraham’s descendants.

Christian Zionism isn’t a modern political fad. It’s the natural outflow of biblical belief. The early church didn’t view itself apart from Israel; it saw itself grafted into the same vine. “Do not consider yourself to be superior to those other branches,” Paul wrote. “If you do, consider this: You do not support the root, but the root supports you” (Romans 11:18).

Jesus was born a Jew, lived as a Jew, and died under a sign that read “King of the Jews.” The apostles were Jewish. The first believers were Jewish. The Old Testament — the foundation of Christian morality — was written by Jews. To despise the Jewish people is to despise the very tree that bore the Savior.

Love commands courage

Christ’s command in John 13:34 is unmistakable: “Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” If we can’t love our spiritual cousins — the people through whom our faith was born — what are we even defending? What good is a “Christian” movement that forgets the Christian part?

The world starves for grace. Our culture feasts on outrage, cynicism, and suspicion. The church’s mission — and the conservative movement’s moral responsibility — is not to mirror that chaos but to model something better.

We talk about “saving America,” but no nation can be saved if it forgets how to love its neighbor. America’s founders drew moral strength from Scripture because they understood that the deepest revolutions begin not in politics but in the human heart.

Jesus didn’t build walls between people — He built bridges to their hearts. He dined with tax collectors, healed Roman soldiers, and forgave His executioners. He chose compassion over contempt.

When He met the Samaritan woman at the well, He didn’t belittle her faith — He offered her living water. When Christ told the parable of the Good Samaritan, He made the hero an outsider despised by His own people. Love, He showed us, knows no boundary.

If Jesus could forgive the people who nailed Him to a cross, surely we can love the people through whom God gave us His Son.

Truth without love is just noise

Love does not mean silence. The same Jesus who preached mercy also overturned the tables of corruption. Scripture commands believers to “have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them” (Ephesians 5:11).

Today a dangerous strain cloaks hatred in holiness. It mistakes cruelty for conviction and turns “truth-telling” into a license to dehumanize. But righteousness without love is rebellion, not faith.

Standing against that spirit isn’t weakness. It’s obedience. Jesus rebuked the Pharisees for pride and hypocrisy, warning that “many will say to Me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord,’ … Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you’” (Matthew 7:22–23). Faith without love is empty. Theology without mercy is just noise.

A call back to first principles

We are not only in a culture war; we are in a crisis of the soul. Civility has been replaced by performance. Grace by grudges. Authenticity by algorithms. Too many of our debates aim to win arguments rather than save souls.

Differences are inevitable. Divisions are a choice. We can disagree passionately and still love deeply. That is the mark of maturity — and the essence of Christianity. “If you love those who love you, what reward will you get?” Jesus asked in Matthew 5:46. Real love begins where comfort ends.

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Photo by John Greim/Contributor via Getty Images

The conservative movement must decide: Will we reflect Christ or merely invoke His name when it’s convenient? Will we unite around truth or fracture around pride? Anti-Jewish rhetoric isn’t just politically foolish — it’s spiritually corrosive.

It isn’t “based.” It’s blasphemous.

Winston Churchill once said, “We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give.” What we need now are not louder voices but larger hearts. Not more outrage, but more grace. Not more warriors in the comments section, but more witnesses in the world.

It’s time to return to first principles: Love God. Love your neighbor. Those two commandments are enough to heal a movement — and maybe even a nation.

The next time someone claims to speak for Christianity while spewing hate, open your Bible. The truth is written in red.

Jesus didn’t call us to divide. He called us to love. And love, real love, always points back to the cross — and to the people through whom God brought the Savior of the world.

​Jews, Israel, Jesus, Gospel, Opinion & analysis, Anti-semitism, Christians, Christianity 

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