One of our favorite shows used to be an action-packed TV series called 24. It followed counterterrorism agent Jack Bauer, who worked against the clock to thwart terrorist plots threatening the United States. Each season covered 24 hours in real-time, highlighting Jack’s intense efforts to thwart presidential assassination attempts, bombs, bioterrorism, cyber warfare, and conspiracies involving government and corporate corruption.
One of the show’s key themes was how Jack frequently crossed ethical lines in his urgency to save the U.S. from terrorist threats. He routinely used torture to extract information. He often killed without legal authority, taking the law into his own hands when he believed it was necessary. He assassinated terrorists and even former allies if he thought they posed a threat to national security. Throughout the series, Jack repeatedly ignored moral and legal boundaries, including disobeying his superiors’ direct orders to pursue his own course of action. And we cheered him on.
Jack’s actions often sparked debates about morality, ethics, and the balance between security and human rights, which are central themes throughout the show. The moral justification for his extreme actions was rooted in the belief that the ends justified the means, particularly when faced with the imminent threat of mass casualties or national destruction. He was a utilitarian, where the moral worth of an action was solely determined by its outcome—in Bauer’s case, the greater good of saving lives, even if it required morally dubious acts like torture or killing.
The notion that the end justifies the means dates back thousands of years. It’s a form of consequentialism, one of the three main types of ethical thinking, and perhaps the most widely practiced form of decision-making. It was prevalent in ancient Rome, where the poet Ovid opined, “The result justifies the deed.” Niccolò Machiavelli, in the Middle Ages, taught that if a goal is morally important enough, any method of getting it is acceptable. More recently, Adolf Hitler said “In war, the victor is never asked if he told the truth.”
Last week, Christian influencer Josh Daws tweeted, “It’s okay to use deception in service of defeating the left. It’s not sinning in order to do good. It’s being righteously shrewd in order to do good. It’s also okay to enjoy it. Lighten up.” Josh is part of Founders Ministries, a Reformed Baptist group within the Southern Baptist Convention in the United States. Josh aims to help “Christians navigate the complex and rapidly changing cultural landscape through his biblically-based cultural analysis.”
Daw’s deception aimed to neutralize the recent salacious reporting about North Carolina’s Lieutenant Governor Mark Robinson by deceptively asserting that it was fake. Robinson, who identifies as an evangelical Christian, has faced significant controversy for his past statements, including calling himself a “black Nazi” and making inflammatory social media posts involving Holocaust references. Recent reporting has uncovered inflammatory, racially charged, and lewd comments he has allegedly made while watching transgender pornography on the site “Nude Africa.” Reviews of his archived messages found that he referred to himself as a “perv.”
“He’s one of the finest Christian men I know,” said Ricky Temple, precinct chair in the Harnett County GOP, when speaking about Robinson. Bishop Wooden of the Upper Room Church of God in Christ in Raleigh, N.C., remains willing to give Robinson his conditional support because he’s “trying to save babies, save children, save lives.”
David Lane, leader of The American Renewal Project, maintains that Robinson was a “brilliant” choice to lead the group’s push to get more evangelicals running for office. On their website, you’ll find a vision statement that includes the text: “If America is to be saved, Biblical values must be returned and embraced in the public square.” Despite their continuing support for Robinson, you will also find Proverbs 14:34 displayed front and center: “Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people.”
Jesus said, “My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways.” The ethics of Christ’s kingdom are rooted in virtue and rule-based principles. They emphasize cultivating Christlike character through inner transformation and obedience to God’s command to love both God and neighbor.
These principles are not situational or dependent on outcomes. They reject the notion that the end justifies the means. Instead, they flip the script by having the means drive the ends. Following Christ is the goal, and our faithfulness to that calling defines success. Although some elements of consequentialism appear in His teachings, particularly in relation to the eternal consequences of one’s actions, at the heart of Jesus’ ethics is agape love—selfless and sacrificial—guiding how believers should live and treat others.
The Road to Misplaced Destinations
We’ve lost the plot when we reject Christ’s kingdom principles for a utilitarian worldview based on situational ethics. A prominent theologian, Miroslav Volf puts it well: “The Christ of the gospel has become a moral stranger to us. If you read the gospels, the things that profoundly mattered to Christ marginally matter to most evangelical Christians.” This current-day crisis in the church, he says, stems from the evangelical preoccupation with the culture war, which marginalizes things that matter to Christ. Volf again: “If you say anybody’s conduct can be excused because God has a larger plan and uses flawed vessels, then what is left of an actual Christianity at that point?
The culture war acts like a railway switch, moving our journey along a different track and away from God’s intended destination. Its focus on winning, fighting for what’s right, and taking back the country for God is neither a biblical objective nor an outcome of Christ’s call to “Follow Me.” And when outrage, disgust, and division are used to promote “Godly” positions, scripture calls this “works of the flesh,” where those “who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.”
Here’s the problem: the overlap between the culture war’s sensibilities and Christ’s Sermon on the Mount—or the fruit of the Spirit—is minimal, if not nonexistent. The culture war’s misguided objectives miss the mark, a term the Bible uses for sin. Its fight-driven mentality reshapes our hearts, and our affections become entangled in the battle. We ignore these shifts and downplay their impact, believing we’re pursuing a righteous cause. But as this “righteous” desire intensifies, the changes become entrenched, giving rise to an ends-justify-the-means mindset.
It’s an upside-down world where sin begets righteousness, and evil is praised for its utility. This worldview implies a God of limited power, who runs out of better choices and is forced to rely on morally corrupt vessels. With the nation’s soul at stake, any available tool—especially political power—becomes justified in the effort to preserve a once-godly nation. And in this upside-down world, the weapons of our warfare are best carnal and mighty through politicians thirsting for a fight.
The Road of Good Intentions
Good intentions can also flip that railway switch, moving our journey away from God’s intended destination. Consider King Saul from the Hebrew scriptures. Saul genuinely sought to do good, and many of his actions stemmed from seemingly noble motives. When he offered a sacrifice in place of the prophet Samuel, he thought he was securing God’s favor. When he spared King Agag’s livestock after defeating the Amalekites, his aim was to reserve the animals for sacrifices to God.
Yet Saul’s actions directly violated God’s commands, exemplified in the often-quoted verse, “Obedience is better than sacrifice.” God placed obedience as a fundamental priority, surpassing any personal judgment of “good. Saul’s failure to follow God’s process serves as an example of how even well-intended actions fall short of God’s will when detached from divine obedience.
How often have you wanted to do “good” but blown it instead? Maybe you misunderstand the other person’s needs or wants. Or maybe the message was right, but how you conveyed it was wrong. Or maybe your sense of the “good” was off the mark. This happens to us every day. Our good intentions do not automatically yield good results. Despite our best efforts, we’re fallible people. It’s an unavoidable aspect of the human condition.
Then, how often have we sacrificed Christlikeness for the good of success? Allowing compromises to creep in, even if small, to “win.” Willing to ignore boundaries, like Saul, in pursuit of doing something “good?” Burning with righteous desire, only to find that our sense of good has switched us to a different track. This is the everyday stuff of social media, and I’m reminded of G.K. Chesterton’s answer to the London Times question: “What’s Wrong with the World?” “Dear Sirs, I am. Sincerely yours, G. K. Chesterton.”
A More Personal Road
In thinking about the future, I recently began reflecting on what I would want to say to my grandchildren. Much like life itself, the journey of faith is complex, and good intentions alone cannot safeguard against missteps. The culture around us exerts a shaping influence, often leading us to justify the means by focusing on the ends. I would urge my future generations to understand that the journey—the how—is more important than the what. Success is not defined by winning the battle or preserving a nation but by faithfulness to Christ’s call.
I’d want them to embrace core values, centering their lives on love for God and neighbor while remaining vigilant against the subtle ways culture can distort our loves. As much as I hope they are people of virtue and service, I’d also want them to be wise, knowing that even the desire to do good can lead us off track if we compromise our ethics.
Our best defense against these temptations is to hold fast to Christ’s principles. The way we follow Him matters more than the results we achieve. This is how we resist the world’s lure and stay true to God’s mission, knowing that faithfulness—not success—is the true measure of a life well lived.*
A Road of Encouragement
People occasionally ask me, “What is the purpose of this blog? ” Very simply, I believe that much of the evangelical church – my tradition – has jumped the track and is headed in the wrong direction. I believe that many, or perhaps most, want to do good and advocate for a society where people flourish. But the culture war has flipped the switch, and despite their good intentions, the destination no longer looks like Jesus.
My message is simple. When Jesus tells us to follow Him, it means He gets to set the how, what, and why of our lives. “We are not our own,” and the priorities, destination, and means we use to get there are up to Him.
This means that the things that profoundly mattered to Christ must matter most to us with the Sermon on the Mount front and center. We bear His name, and our goal must be to bear His likeness in our lives and the world around us.
Our primary goal can’t be to make America great again. That’s a message far removed from the teachings of Christ. Our strategy can’t be to employ utilitarian tactics, like tolerating morally debased men for a questionable good. Our passion can’t be with a culture war that hijacks our loves and marginalizes things that matter to Christ. Our tactics can’t allow compromised choices based on a subjective desire to do good. Otherwise, we will reap what we sow, and the Christ of the gospel will become a moral stranger to us.
Our goal must be to bear His likeness through our salt and light mission. Our goal must be to join God’s kingdom project in permeating our world with the life of heaven. Our goal must be to become Christ’s Ambassadors, recognizing that God is making His appeal to the world through our words, deeds, and actions. And our goal must be, as the song of my youth went, “to be like Jesus” in our words, attitudes, actions, and even in our political decisions.