Evangelical Church of Cognitive Dissonance
The Christians Who Do Everything to Prevent Jesus from Returning
There is a question Christians rarely ask themselves: What if some of the things they are desperately trying to prevent are precisely the things their Bible says will happen before Jesus returns? This question becomes particularly uncomfortable for Christians who believe that biblical prophecy is literal, that the world will experience increasing wickedness before Christ’s return and that Jesus (not human political action) will ultimately establish God’s kingdom.
Such Christians may spend enormous amounts of time fighting moral decline, political instability, secularization, cultural change, crime, war and social disorder. They campaign, vote, lobby, protest, organize political movements, try to put Christian politicians into office, warn that civilization is collapsing, but, according to their own Scriptures, civilization’s collapse (or, at least, a profound escalation of human wickedness and suffering) is part of the story that precedes Christ’s return.
So, what exactly are they fighting and, more importantly, what does their behavior reveal about what they actually believe?
The Biblical Prediction is Not Subtle
Jesus does not describe the period preceding his return as an era of uninterrupted moral improvement. He says: “Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold” (Matthew 24:12). He then describes extraordinary suffering: “There will be great distress, unequaled from the beginning of the world until now — and never to be equaled again” (Matthew 24:21). And finally: “Then will appear the sign of the Son of Man in heaven. And then all the peoples of the earth will […] see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven, with power and great glory” (Matthew 24:30). The sequence is remarkably clear: Iniquity → Tribulation → Christ’s return.
The Christian does not merely believe that the world might become worse. In many traditional interpretations, worsening conditions are part of the expected sequence. Paul’s description in 2 Timothy is equally bleak: “There will be terrible times in the last days” (2 Timothy 3:1). He then describes people becoming selfish, greedy, arrogant, disobedient, unholy, violent, pleasure-loving and hostile to what is good.
Peter goes even further, describing a final destruction of the existing cosmic order: “The heavens will pass away with a great noise, and the elements will melt with fervent heat; both the earth and the works that are in it will be burned up” (2 Peter 3:10). The biblical solution is not ultimately the successful reform of this world. Peter says Christians should instead look for “new heaven and a new earth, where righteousness dwells” (2 Peter 3:13). That is the fundamental problem. Christianity does not ultimately promise to repair this world. It promises a new one.
“But Christians are supposed to fight evil.”
This is the strongest objection. A Christian might respond: “Yes, the Bible predicts that evil will increase, but Christians are still commanded to resist evil. Knowing that something will eventually happen does not mean we should help it happen”. That is perfectly reasonable as far as it goes. A Christian should not watch somebody being assaulted and say: “The Bible predicts suffering, so I’ll let it happen”. Nor should a Christian refuse to feed a hungry person because poverty will never be completely eliminated. There is no contradiction in alleviating individual suffering while recognizing that suffering will continue to exist, but that isn’t quite the argument under examination.
The question concerns something much larger: Does Christianity require Christians to try to reverse the overall trajectory of civilization? That is a different proposition. If a Christian believes that the world is moving toward an inevitable period of unprecedented wickedness and judgment, then there is a profound difference between “I will help the people around me” and “I must politically transform society, so that it does not become the society described by biblical prophecy”. The first is easily compatible with Christianity. The second is much harder to reconcile with a strict prophetic worldview.
“But we can delay the inevitable.”
Another response is: “Perhaps the deterioration is inevitable eventually, but we can delay it”. This is logically possible. A person who knows he will eventually die can still exercise, eat well and take medicine, but notice what this argument does: it changes the Christian’s mission from preventing the prophecy to delaying the prophecy. That is a much weaker claim. And it raises another question: How important is the delay? If Christ’s return ultimately requires the world to reach the conditions described in prophecy, then successful Christian political activism could theoretically delay the very circumstances Christians believe precede Christ’s return. The Christian would then be working to postpone the fulfillment of the prophecy he supposedly longs to see fulfilled.
This is where the famous Christian prayer becomes psychologically interesting: “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus” (Revelation 22:20). The Christian says “Come, Lord Jesus”, but his political behavior can sometimes communicate “Not yet. I’ve got a civilization to save first”. That is a genuine tension.
“Do business till I come.”
A Christian might appeal to Jesus’ instruction in Luke 19:13: “Do business till I come”. The argument is that Christians are supposed to remain active in the world until Christ returns. Again, this is a legitimate point, but “occupy” does not necessarily mean “transform civilization into a Christian utopia”. The command occurs in a parable concerning servants entrusted with resources while their master is away. The passage does not establish that Christians are supposed to prevent all political or moral deterioration. At most, it establishes a principle of faithful responsibility while waiting. That distinction is crucial. A Christian can be faithful without believing that Humanity can permanently fix itself. Indeed, the entire biblical narrative suggests the opposite.
“Romans 13 says Christians should participate in government.”
Another objection invokes Romans 13. Paul writes: “There is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God” (Romans 13:1). Christians, therefore, argue that political authority is legitimate and Christians may participate in government. That is true, but Romans 13 does not say that political government will establish God’s kingdom. It does not say “Christians must capture political institutions”, it does not say “Your political party must win” and it certainly does not say “Human government will ultimately solve the world’s moral problems”. In fact, the New Testament repeatedly places ultimate hope somewhere else. Paul writes: “Our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Philippians 3:20).
The Christian’s ultimate political loyalty is, therefore, complicated by the fact that Christianity claims that the believer’s ultimate citizenship is elsewhere. Political participation can be justified. Political salvation cannot.
“Jesus told us to love our neighbor.”
This is perhaps the strongest moral defense. Christians can say: “I participate in politics because political decisions affect real human beings. If I can reduce suffering, protect people or improve society, then love requires me to act”. There is considerable force in that argument, but it actually strengthens the distinction we need to make. Helping people is not the same as saving civilization. If a Christian votes to reduce suffering, that can easily be understood as an application of Christian love, but when political activism becomes an apocalyptic struggle in which one political party is portrayed as the last defense against the destruction of civilization, something else is happening. Politics begins to acquire a quasi-religious significance. The election becomes a battle between good and evil. Political opponents become existential enemies. The preservation of a particular social order becomes a sacred obligation. Suddenly, the Christian is behaving as though the fate of God’s creation depends upon the outcome of a human election.
That is difficult to reconcile with the claim that God is sovereign and Christ is returning to establish the final kingdom.
“Christians are called to be salt and light.”
Another popular response comes from Jesus’ words in Matthew 5:13–16. Christians are called to be “the salt of the earth” and “the light of the world”. This certainly implies that Christians should have an influence on the world, but, again, influence is not the same thing as ultimate control. Salt preserves. Light illuminates. Neither metaphor says that Christians are supposed to permanently repair civilization. Indeed, Jesus’ own teachings repeatedly emphasize the temporary nature of the present world. Christians are called to be faithful within the world, not necessarily to transform the present world into the final kingdom of God. The distinction matters enormously.
“The Bible doesn’t say every generation will get progressively worse.”
This is a legitimate criticism of the argument. The Bible does not provide a simple graph showing civilization declining by exactly one percentage point every year. History is obviously more complicated. Some societies have become more peaceful, more prosperous, healthier and more just over particular periods. Therefore, it would be an exaggeration to claim that Christianity necessarily teaches “Every generation must be worse than the previous one in every respect”. It does not, but that concession does not eliminate the central argument.
The issue is not whether society may temporarily improve. The issue is whether Christians who interpret biblical prophecy as predicting an ultimate escalation of evil can simultaneously treat the permanent prevention of that trajectory as a realistic political objective. If the deterioration is ultimately unavoidable, then political victories can only be temporary. And if Christians know that, why do they sometimes treat temporary political victories as though they are matters of ultimate religious importance? That is where the psychological contradiction remains.
Free Will Does Not Solve the Problem
Another Christian response is: “God’s prophecy doesn’t cause people to become evil. People freely choose evil. Christians should, therefore, resist those choices”. There is no necessary contradiction between prophecy and free will, but, again, that doesn’t answer the central question. Suppose God knows with certainty that Humanity will eventually reach a particular condition. Christians believe God possesses precisely this kind of foreknowledge. Then Christian political activism cannot ultimately prevent the predicted outcome. It can, perhaps, alter individual circumstances, change the timing or reduce suffering along the way, but it cannot ultimately overturn God’s predicted conclusion. So, the Christian is left with an interesting paradox: fighting battles that, from the Christian’s own theological perspective, cannot ultimately be won. That isn’t necessarily immoral, but it does mean that political activism cannot be the ultimate Christian solution.
What About Stewardship?
Christians might also invoke the doctrine of stewardship. Human beings are instructed to care for Creation. That is a legitimate biblical principle, but stewardship does not imply immortality. A person can care for a house while knowing that the house will eventually be demolished. Likewise, Christians can care for the world without believing they will ultimately preserve it, but, again, this exposes the distinction between stewardship and salvation. Christianity permits stewardship. It does not promise that human stewardship will prevent God’s final judgment. The problem occurs when stewardship quietly turns into the conviction that Christians must politically rescue civilization.
The Strange Psychology of Christian Politics
This is where the concept of Cognitive Dissonance becomes particularly useful. Consider two statements. Belief A: “The Bible accurately predicts increasing wickedness before Christ returns”. Belief B: “We must use political power to prevent society from becoming increasingly wicked”. Those two beliefs are in tension. The person may resolve the tension by saying: “I’m not trying to prevent prophecy, I’m simply doing my Christian duty”. That may be sincere, but sincerity does not eliminate contradiction. People routinely rationalize conflicting beliefs without realizing that they are doing so. A Christian can simultaneously fear the deterioration of society and believe that deterioration is part of God’s prophetic plan. The result is an emotional contradiction: They dread the very future they claim to expect.
The Most Revealing Question: What if They Succeeded?
This is perhaps the strongest thought experiment. Imagine that Christian political activism actually works, Christians succeed in making society dramatically more religious, crime collapses, families become stronger, traditional morality becomes dominant, church attendance explodes, political stability increases, wars become rare, society becomes increasingly peaceful and Christian civilization flourishes. Now, ask: Does that mean Christ no longer needs to return? Of course not. The Christian answer must still be: Christ must return. Human civilization cannot ultimately accomplish the Christian promise.
That exposes the strange position of Christian political activism. The Christian is attempting to produce the best possible version of something Christianity says is nevertheless temporary. He can improve the world, but cannot save it, can reform society, but cannot establish the eternal kingdom, can postpone disaster, but cannot eliminate the final judgment, can win elections, but cannot make Christ unnecessary.
Revelation Destroys the Fantasy of Political Salvation
The final chapters of Revelation leave little room for the idea that Humanity’s political institutions will ultimately solve the problem. The culmination is divine intervention. God establishes the new order. Revelation says: “I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away” (Revelation 21:1). Then: “I am making everything new!” (Revelation 21:5). I make! Not “You finally fixed it”, not “Your political movement succeeded”, not “Humanity eventually figured things out”.
God makes all things new. That is the Christian promise. Therefore, Christianity contains an inherent limitation on political hope: No human political program can accomplish what Christianity says God alone will accomplish.
The Ultimate Contradiction: “Thy Kingdom Come”
Consider the Lord’s Prayer. Jesus teaches Christians to pray: “Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10). That prayer is extraordinarily revealing. Christians are not instructed to pray “Our political party come” or “Our nation become dominant”. They are instructed to pray for God’s kingdom. The Christian, therefore, faces a fundamental choice of emphasis. Is political power the instrument through which God’s kingdom is coming? Or is God’s kingdom something that human political power cannot ultimately produce? If the latter is true, then political activism must be placed firmly in second position. It may be useful, moral or alleviate suffering, but it cannot be Christianity’s ultimate hope.
The Christians Who Fear the Apocalypse
There is another psychological contradiction worth examining. Christians often say that they eagerly await Christ’s return, but imagine telling a Christian: “Jesus could return tomorrow”. Their reaction may be revealing. Some will respond with joy. Others will immediately think: ”But what about my children? What about the political situation? What about the economy? What about the future of my country? What about all the things that still need fixing?”. This exposes the difference between intellectual belief and emotional belief. Intellectually: “Jesus is coming”. Emotionally: “Please let me have another twenty years to fix things”. The Christian may sincerely believe both. That is exactly why Cognitive Dissonance is such an appropriate concept.
The Uncomfortable Possibility that Politics has Replaced Faith
Perhaps the deepest problem is not that Christians participate in politics. Perhaps it’s that some Christians have come to expect from politics what Christianity says only God can provide. They want political leaders to restore morality, governments to protect civilization, elections to defeat evil, laws to transform culture and political victories to restore hope, but Christianity’s central message is supposed to be radically different: Humanity cannot save itself. That is why a savior is needed. And that is why Christ’s return is necessary. If human political action could ultimately solve Humanity’s fundamental problem, then the Christian story would be unnecessary.
So, Should Christians Stop Fighting Evil?
No. That conclusion would be too simplistic. The argument is not “The Bible predicts evil, therefore Christians should support evil”. That does not follow. Nor is the argument “Christians should stop helping people”. Quite the opposite. Christians can consistently feed the hungry, protect the vulnerable, oppose injustice, care for creation, raise families, participate in government and resist evil. The question is one of ultimate expectations. A Christian can say: “I will fight evil because my faith commands me to love my neighbor”. That is coherent, but “I will politically prevent the world from following the prophetic trajectory described in Scripture” is much harder to defend. “The survival of our political movement is essential to the survival of civilization” is harder still. At that point, political faith begins to compete with religious faith.
The Contradiction in One Sentence
The entire argument can be reduced to one uncomfortable sentence: Christians claim that God has revealed how human history ends, yet many of them behave as though their political mission is to prevent History from ending that way. That is the contradiction. It does not apply equally to every Christian, does not prove that Christianity is false and does not mean that Christian political participation is inherently irrational, but when a Christian simultaneously accepts a strong interpretation of biblical end-times prophecy and regards preventing moral and social deterioration as an overriding political mission, the tension is undeniable. The believer is effectively saying: “I trust God’s prophetic revelation about where the world is going, but I am going to fight as hard as I can to stop it from getting there”.
Perhaps the most honest Christian response would therefore be to distinguish between resisting evil and trying to save the world. The first can be an expression of faith, the second can become a substitute for it.
Conclusion
Do Christians actually believe what they say they believe? The challenge is ultimately not to Christianity, but to Christians who claim an uncompromising belief in biblical prophecy. If the Bible is right that iniquity will abound, that Humanity will experience extraordinary tribulation, that Christ will return, that the present order will ultimately pass away and that God will create a new heaven and a new earth, then the deterioration of the present world should not come as an existential surprise. It should be expected. The Christian should understand that no election, government, political party, social movement or cultural campaign can ultimately prevent the conclusion promised by Scripture.
This does not make compassion pointless. It makes compassion temporary and local, rather than salvific. Feed the hungry, help the suffering, protect the innocent, resist injustice, do good, but don’t confuse those things with saving civilization, because, according to Christianity, civilization is not ultimately saved by civilization. Christ saves it.
If that really is what Christians believe, then perhaps they should be less frightened when the world begins to resemble the world their Bible predicted. Perhaps the Christian who constantly panics about moral decline should ask a profoundly uncomfortable question: “Why am I fighting so desperately against the future I claim to believe God has already revealed?”. And perhaps the even more uncomfortable question is this: “Do I really want Jesus to return, or do I want Jesus to return only after I have managed to fix the world first?”.
That is where the hypocrisy, pardon, Cognitive Dissonance becomes impossible to ignore.