Holy Fire, Misused Power, and the Heart of Christ
We often hear this life-saving instruction in suicide prevention work to:
1. Create distance between despair and irreversible harm.
2. Secure what could be used in a moment of crisis.
That wisdom saves lives, but let me ask a question that might make some rooms go quiet: What if some of the most dangerous weapons aren’t metal, military, or locked in a drawer? What if some weapons are theological? Interpretive. Positional. What if they sound like sermons, doctrines, spiritual slogans, and distorted portrayals of God? And what if they are left unsecured in the hands of already fragile souls? We have seen when God’s truths are mishandled, left unsecured and accessible to those already wounded, they can be picked up and used against the very souls they were meant to save, and the result is devastating:
● Fear-based obedience
● Performance-driven spirituality
● Shame-anchored identity
● Withdrawal from prayer
● Collapse of intimacy
And eventually, the final result is what I am calling “spiritual and relational suicide.”
Not the ending of physical life, but the slow death of trust, the quiet burial of hope, the kind of faith that still shows up to church but no longer believes God is safe. Jesus repeatedly called people away from carnal methods of control and violence:
● “Put your sword in its place” (Matthew 26:52).
● “Blessed are the merciful” (Matthew 5:7).
● “Be wise as serpents and harmless as doves” (Matthew 10:16).
We don’t need these venomous methods, because the Kingdom is not advanced by threat. Paul echoes this:
● “Put away from you all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor, and evil speaking.” (Ephesians 4:31)
● “For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war according to the flesh.” (2 Corinthians 10:3)
Clarity Matters: Suicide Crisis
Clinical suicide is a mental health emergency. It requires immediate professional care, community support, and compassionate intervention. If someone is experiencing suicidal thoughts, that is not metaphor. That is crisis! And it must be treated with desperate urgency. However, spiritual or relational “suicide,” as used here, is metaphorical. It describes the slow erosion of trust in God, the collapse of intimacy, and the internal belief that one is too condemned to draw near. It is the death of connection, not the ending of physical life. As a chaplain, I have sat with both. I have seen how distorted images of God can quietly suffocate a soul. The threat of hell is one of those images.
When Hell is Preached as Threat
It is indisputable that amongst themes such as, grace, forgiveness, and mercy; beyond the rising of hope through ashes, scripture speaks of judgment. Gehenna (Hell) (Hebrew; Greek Γέεννα) originally referred to the Valley of the Son of Hinnom south of Jerusalem and associated in biblical memory with child sacrifices to Molech (Joshua 15:8; 2 Kings 23:10; Jeremiah 7:31-32). And because the valley was regarded as accursed, “Gehenna” soon became a figurative term for “hell.” (Jewish Encyclopedia)
Moreover, Jesus Himself references Gehenna in several key moments in the Gospels (Matthew 5:22, 29-30; 10:28; 23:33; Mark 9:43-48), drawing on its vivid imagery to warn about the destructive consequences of sin. When He speaks of Gehenna, He is not invoking a random metaphor but a location loaded with historical memory: idolatry, violence, and covenant betrayal. His warnings are serious and morally urgent for these times and ours. In those passages, Jesus spoke of a reality of judgment, and scripture affirms that hell was literally prepared “for the devil and his angels” (Matthew 25:41). The
key takeaway from Gehenna is that justice is swift, designated, and real.
Yet context matters: Jesus’ references to Gehenna consistently function as prophetic warning, not sadistic threat. They are invitations to repentance, not tools of intimidation. His language intensifies the gravity of sin precisely because He desires transformation, not destruction. His warning is like the sound of a navy boat in a storm, a signal of rescue. The tension we must hold carefully is this: when Jesus speaks of Gehenna, it is within the larger frame of a mission defined in John 3:17, “For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.” But when hell becomes the primary lens through which God is presented, detached from mercy, compassion, and redemptive intent, many begin relating to Him not as Father, but as executioner. And that distortion reshapes the relationship from trust to terror. The internal narrative of individuals who accept this punitive picture of God may shift:
“If I fail, I’m finished.”
“God is waiting to punish.”
“One mistake and I’m out.”
Fear becomes the organizing principle of faith but rebutting fear Jesus says: “For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved,” (John 3:17) and “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves torment.” (1 John 4:18) This begs reasonable pensive posture. Why is God intentional about addressing fear based introductions to Him? Fear involves torment. Fear-based theology produces torment.
● Fear is a carnal weapon.
● Shame is a carnal weapon.
● Control is a carnal weapon.
And here’s the line we are invited to sit with, the one that holds both justice and tenderness: God’s fire purifies evil. Hell is an act of love. A healing balm for sin and an ending to God’s wrath. It was never meant to terrify the wounded.
When Salvation Turns Inward: A Warning From History
It is uncomfortable, but we must face how the doctrine of God’s wrath has sometimes been misused against the very people it was meant to rescue. Purification is preached as personal hostility, and fragile souls begin hiding from the very One who came to save them. And let’s not forget that hiding is not new. It’s Eden. It’s Genesis 3. This downpour of fear from the war in Heaven to Earth landed with stings of shame making Adam and Eve run from the Presence that used to feel safe. That used to feel like home.
Eden also taught us that Adam and Eve’s running was not just from the literal presence of God, but also from the healing presence of God through their garments of leaves, triggering a fear based response we all suffer from today. ”I can do bad by myself and I can fix my own mess by myself.” So, let’s talk about it plainly: even sincere faith can become self-harm when fear drives the relationship.
Martin Luther: when fear turned inward becomes self-harm “for God”
Roland Herbert Bainton in his book “Here I Stand: A Life of Martin Luther,” draws us into the scenes such as the young Augustinian friar (monk), Martin Luther, (1483-1546) becoming consumed with atoning for sin through extreme practices, punishing himself in an attempt to curb sin, quiet guilt and fear of judgment, including obsessive confessions, and severe fasting. He practiced extreme self-denial. His conscience became a courtroom in which he was always guilty. A Lutheran source frames Luther’s inner world as “terror over sin and God’s judgment.” Scholars refer to this Luther’s anxiety and fear of judgment, drawn from his own writings about Judas Iscariot (1942) and his interpretation of “Anfechtung,” “temptation, tribulation, failure, and sin, compounded by self-examination, condemnation, struggle with faith, fear, attack by Satan, and the terror of deserved judgment.” That’s a sobering picture of what happens when the “weapon” of judgment gets lodged in the conscience without the balm of grace:
● The soul begins to believe, “I must pay enough to be safe.”
● Fear becomes a spiritual operating system.
● Suffering becomes “proof” of sincerity.
I have been a victim of appeasement by pain and am still overcoming it. As a mentor, Pastor and hospital Chaplain, I have also sat near patients at the end of life, tormented by their life review and the terror of the cage of guilt they’re perceived to be in. When the heart believes God must be appeased by pain, it will eventually use pain as a currency. It’s torment: holiness without mercy wounds. It’s suffocation through doctrine without loving tenderness. That is self-inflicted wounding with “religious” language, a weapon turned inward.
GRACE: Although his early anguish shows what happens when fear is left unsecured, eventually, Luther rediscovered grace, that the righteous live by faith. His 95 Theses and other writings including hymns showed a freed soul even though he was called “drunken German” by Pope Leo, at his rebuttal of weaponized scripture and religion.
A Wider Lens
“Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.” Mark Twain
Biblical texts were once used to defend the enslavement of Africans. Scripture was selectively quoted to justify systems of exploitation while ignoring the broader narrative of liberation and dignity. People were preached into chains. Families were separated with “biblical” justification. The Word of Life was twisted into a tool of death. In their private pain and denial of autonomy and freedom, private fear became public harm when power got involved. Antisemitic narratives, repeated over centuries, hardened into ideology that helped enable the Holocaust. The lesson here is that hatred did not begin with camps, chains, prisons, or war. It began with stories, scapegoats, propaganda, and repeated lies that made cruelty feel normal. Lucifer taught us this foundational truth that ideas precede violence. Historical pages reinforce this weapon that religious distortion, the mishandling of sacred texts, not only misinform and deform but gives moral cover to cruelty.
● The Crusades baptized violence with sacred language.
● The Inquisition sanctified coercion.
● State churches aligned with nationalist movements that marginalized minorities.
A Sobering American Reflection
In our modern era, extremist movements have twisted religious language to justify terror; even suicide bombings, promising divine reward for mass destruction. September 11, 2001 remains a scar on the global conscience. That is what happens when faith becomes weaponized. Yet, there is still a call to put down our spiritual weapons, now…today…2026! It is so much easier to critique distant nations than to examine ourselves, but what happens when Christianity begins merging too tightly with political identity…even here on our shores?
● What happens when “Christian” becomes synonymous with “national loyalty”?
● What happens when policy disagreement is framed as spiritual warfare?
● What happens when protecting power becomes more urgent than protecting people?
The danger is not Christianity. The danger is coercive Christianity. The danger is when the cross becomes a campaign symbol instead of a call to cruciform love. History shows us a pattern when religion fuses with unchecked power:
● Minorities are targeted first.
● Immigrants are scrutinized first.
● The poor are silenced first.
● Women’s bodies become battlegrounds.
● Minors and babies are trafficked, and exploited.
● Dissent becomes heresy.
● Compassion gets labeled compromise.
● ICE becomes the footman for cultural and community cleansing.
Eventually, the vulnerable begin to believe they are spiritually disposable, produces spiritual withdrawal, fear-based faith, and relational collapse. Because when someone feels unsafe under the banner of God, they stop running toward Him. They hide. Just like Eden.
Jesus: The Patterned Answer to Power Usage Safety
Can we just be honest? We live in a world where even some professed followers of Jesus love punishment, embrace a culture that feeds on outrage, and protect and defend systems that are quick to criminalize brokenness and slow to restore dignity. But the life of Jesus shows us that every time He had the opportunity to weaponize holiness, He chose to heal instead. His love was the safety or trigger lock preventing the weapons of lies about God’s character from Satan from being fired into the minds of the people searching for the heart of God. That is why He is the revolutionary model of Kingdom and relational safety. When Jesus showed up, He refused to participate in the favorite kind of violence from religious leaders and followers: the violence that feels justified. Jesus wasn’t confused or conflicted with power. He was not trigger happy either. He understood what safety looked like.
● When crowds tried to crown Him king by force, He withdrew (John 6:15).
● Jesus stood between a vulnerable woman and a crowd holding stones. Instead of weaponizing righteousness, He disarmed the mob (John 8).
● At the well, Jesus names the Samaritan’s woman’s story instead of weaponize it (John 4)
● He does not shame the woman with the issue of blood, he restores her dignity (Mark 5).
● He honors the sacrifice of the widow with the mite instead of exploiting her poverty (Luke 21).
● Instead of weaponizing the Syrophoenician woman’s desperation, Jesus dignifies her persistence and heals her child. (Matthew 15).
● When asked about Caesar, He said: “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s” (Mark 12:17).
A Prophetic Warning
If we ever find ourselves more excited about political dominance than about washing feet. If we ever defend power more fiercely than we defend the marginalized. If we ever use “God’s will” to silence pain rather than relieve it, we have the safety lock off, pulling the trigger, putting the weapon in reach of innocents, and we are mishandling holy fire. We are inflicting violence rather than absorbing it and shielding the “least of these” from it.
Store your weapon safely.
● Don’t leave fear lying around like it’s discipleship.
● Don’t leave shame unlocked like it’s holiness.
● Don’t leave distorted doctrine accessible like it’s gospel.
Because someone’s soul may pick it up and turn it inward.
● Holiness does not humiliate.
● Authority does not terrorize.
● Power restores.
Store your weapon safely.
● Secure fear-based manipulation.
● Lock up shame-driven theology.
● Put away cultural superiority.
● Refuse power without accountability.
● Disarm “truth” that crushes the vulnerable.
Someone we encounter may already be fragile, and if we mishandle our sacred duty as reflectors of God’s light and love, they may mistake the heart of God.
So, keep accessible what Jesus keeps accessible:
● Grace.
● Justice.
● Mercy.
● Belonging.
● Truth spoken gently.
● A God whose holiness heals.
God did not come to destroy, He came to save.
● If someone is already trembling, do not hand them fear.
● If someone is already ashamed, do not hand them stones.
● If someone is already hiding, do not hand them thunder.
● Give them Jesus the Christ.
Store your weapon safely!
