They Call Me “Woke.” I Call It Biblical.
It’s strange to me how quickly people reach for political labels when they hear what I believe.
I’ve been called a Democrat.
A liberal.
“Woke.”
Too progressive.
Not biblical enough.
And yet - when I trace my beliefs back to their source, they don’t come from a party platform or a trending ideology. They come from Scripture. They come from Jesus.
This isn’t a political essay.
It’s a biblical one.
Because the truth is, the things people seem most uncomfortable with in my faith are the very things that first drew me to Christ.
Jesus centered the poor - not as a charity project, but as neighbors worthy of dignity.
He spoke harshest not to outsiders, but to religious leaders who used power to protect themselves.
He refused to align Himself with empire, even when doing so would have made His life easier.
He crossed lines that religion told Him not to cross - racial lines, gender lines, purity lines, class lines.
He touched the untouchable.
He ate with the uninvited.
He defended women when men weaponized the law against them.
He told the rich to loosen their grip.
He warned that faith without justice was empty.
If that sounds “radical,” it’s only because we’ve grown accustomed to a version of Christianity that is safe, sanitized, and power-friendly.
Somehow, following Jesus has been reframed as a political stance.
But Jesus wasn’t a Republican.
He wasn’t a Democrat.
He wasn’t interested in preserving the comfort of religious institutions or the dominance of the powerful.
He was interested in people.
When I say I care about the poor, it’s because Scripture does.
When I say I care about immigrants, it’s because God repeatedly commands care for the foreigner.
When I say I believe women should be safe, heard, and honored, it’s because Jesus modeled that with His whole life.
When I say faith should produce tangible fruit - justice, mercy, humility - it’s because the Bible says so.
None of this makes me “woke.”
It makes me attentive.
Attentive to the Jesus who said the last would be first.
Attentive to the Jesus who flipped tables but washed feet.
Attentive to the Jesus who measured faith not by doctrine alone, but by love in action.
I understand why people want to categorize beliefs. Labels make things easier. They tell us who’s “in” and who’s “out.” They keep us from having to sit with nuance or discomfort.
But I don’t follow a label.
I follow a man who was executed by the state and abandoned by religious leaders because He refused to stop telling the truth about power, compassion, and the Kingdom of God.
If caring about people more than systems makes me suspect - so be it.
If loving my neighbor in practical, costly ways gets me misfiled politically - fine.
I’ll take the risk of being misunderstood if it means staying aligned with Jesus.
Because if my faith, in all of its seasons, looks strange to the world… maybe that’s exactly how it’s supposed to look.