Help! Help! I'm Being Repressed.

Introduction: “Even Your Enemies”

It probably shouldn’t surprise me anymore that the blog posts I write that get the most traction tend to involve Donald Trump. Like it or not, he’s become something of a lightning rod — not just for politics, but lately, for theology, too.

At one point in the conversation around one of those posts, someone reached out to me privately (I have their permission to share this). They wrote, “I’m praying for Donald Trump, because Jesus says to pray even for your enemies.”

And the friend I'm thinking of here is not the only one I've heard say something like this. I've seen many statements, and even memes invoking the same idea.

It sounds noble... like a good-hearted attempt to apply Jesus’ teaching. And I’m genuinely glad my friend in this case was moved to pray rather than rant. But something about it made me pause.

Not because praying for political figures is wrong. Quite the opposite. Paul tells us clearly to pray for kings and all who are in high positions (1 Timothy 2:1–2). That’s part of what faithful Christian citizenship looks like. I would hope we’re praying for our leaders — including the ones we didn’t vote for.

But what struck me was the category. The assumption that someone we disagree with politically, or feel strongly about fits neatly into the biblical category of “enemy.”

What Jesus actually said (more on that later) was,“Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you.” (Matt. 5:44)

It’s one of His most radical commands. But it raises an important question: 
Who did Jesus mean?

His words were "your enemies", and "those who persecute you."

Was He talking about political figures we don’t like?

Was He talking about people across the aisle?

Or did He mean something far more personal — and far more costly?

Before we can faithfully obey Jesus’ words, we have to slow down and ask: What exactly was He asking of us? Because if we dilute the meaning of “enemy” and “persecution,” we may end up missing the real weight of what Jesus was saying — and the real cost of following Him.

What Jesus Actually Meant

When Jesus said, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you”, He wasn’t speaking in abstract terms. He wasn’t talking about politicians, public figures, or ideological opponents in the way we often apply the word “enemy” today.

He was speaking to disciples. Real people, gathered on a hillside, who were about to follow Him into a life of both kingdom beauty and personal cost.

To get the full weight of His words, we have to consider the verses around them. Earlier in the same section, Jesus says:

“Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven…” (Matthew 5:11–12)

That clarifies His meaning: He’s not talking about being mistreated because of your voting record, your economic theory, or even your moral stances in general. He’s talking about suffering because you belong to Him. Because you bear His name. Because you live in such a way that it reminds the world He is Lord and we are not.

When Jesus uses the word “enemy,” He means those who revile you, oppose you, betray you, or seek your harm, personally. And because of your faithfulness to Him.

It’s deeply personal, not just ideological.

It’s directly tied to discipleship, not just disagreement.

This doesn't mean we can’t or shouldn’t pray for people we disagree with politically. Of course we should. We are commanded to pray for all kinds of people, and doing so with humility is part of living out the gospel. But if we want to be honest with the words of Jesus — and truly let them confront and shape us — we need to be careful not to soften them into general advice about civility.

Jesus wasn’t calling us to be polite.

He was calling us to be cruciform.

The Inflation of Victimhood

This might be the right time to bring back that Monty Python reference at the top.

You know the one — The Holy Grail, early on. King Arthur is trying to speak with a peasant, and without warning or provocation, the man starts yelling, “Help! Help! I’m being repressed!” It’s satire, of course. But it works because it exposes something true: our tendency to exaggerate opposition. To elevate inconvenience to injustice. To cast ourselves as victims when no real oppression is taking place.

And the uncomfortable truth is — Christians sometimes do this, too.

We talk about “persecution” because someone criticized us online. Or we say we’re being “silenced” because our favorite content got fact-checked or downranked in an algorithm. We claim cultural martyrdom because a law didn’t go our way. We feel under siege when the cashier says “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas.” </insert eyeroll>

But is that really what Jesus was talking about?

Let’s be honest: not every form of resistance is persecution, and not every disagreement makes someone your enemy.

In fact, one of the ironies of our current cultural moment is that many of us, particularly in conservative circles, are quick to critique others for playing the victim; for “snowflake” behavior or identity-based grievance politics... While doing the same thing, just under a spiritual banner.

We call it “standing for truth,” but sometimes it’s really just frustration that we’re no longer the cultural center.

We don’t need to deny that our culture is shifting in ways that make faithful Christianity more difficult. It absolutely is. But part of following Jesus is being willing to suffer without exaggerating. And without making ourselves the protagonist in every cultural story.

Because here’s the thing: when we cry “Help! I’m being repressed!” every time we’re misunderstood, unfollowed, or disagreed with, we cheapen the language of real persecution.

And when we start calling someone — whether they live next door or sit in the White House — “my enemy,” especially when that person has done nothing to you personally and doesn’t even know your name, we water Jesus’ command down until it becomes meaningless.

It’s not that we won’t face hardship. Some of us will. Increasingly, we may need to make unpopular stands for the sake of Christ. But if we’re already calling cultural awkwardness “persecution,” we won’t be ready when the real thing arrives.

Jesus wasn’t talking about online criticism.
He wasn’t talking about losing tax-exempt status.
He was talking about real danger — for the sake of His name.

So when we casually apply His words to the discomforts of modern political life, we risk trivializing both the cost of discipleship and the courage of those who have taken that cost seriously.

The Real Thing:
A Global and Historical Wake-Up Call

Let’s remember who Jesus was talking to.

When He told His disciples to love their enemies and pray for those who persecuted them, He wasn’t imagining a world of online arguments and seasonal retail greetings. He was preparing them for beatings, imprisonment, and death.

To follow Jesus in the first century wasn’t just countercultural. It was life-threatening. And Jesus didn’t soften the blow. He made it clear from the start.

Let's look at the verse again:

“Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account… Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven.” (Matthew 5:11–12)

This wasn’t theoretical. Under emperors like Nero, Christians were arrested and set on fire to light Roman gardens. Decius mandated empire-wide sacrifices to Roman gods, and anyone who refused could be tortured or killed. Diocletian tried to erase Christianity entirely — burning Scriptures, demolishing churches, and executing those who refused to recant.

And persecution didn’t stop when the Roman Empire fell.

Today, thousands of Christians around the world are still suffering for their faith:

• In Nigeria, nearly 5,000 Christians were killed for their faith in 2023 alone.
• In North Korea, an estimated 50,000–70,000 believers are imprisoned in labor camps.
• In Burkina Faso, believers live day-to-day not knowing if their church will be attacked.
• And according to Open Doors, more than 4,000 Christians worldwide were killed for their faith last year.

These brothers and sisters aren’t being criticized.
They’re not being unfollowed.
Their feelings aren't being hurt.

They’re being hunted.

When Jesus said to love our enemies and pray for our persecutors, this is the kind of suffering He had in view: real, physical, unjust suffering for the sake of His name.

And when we use His words to describe the frustration we feel after a cultural setback or a political loss, or because we don't like the bad orange man in Washington DC, we risk something more than misapplication. We risk dishonoring the global Church and minimizing the cost others have paid.

Why Mislabeling Is Spiritually Dangerous

This isn’t just a matter of misquoting a verse.

When we misuse Jesus’ words — applying them to every disagreement, discomfort, or political frustration — we don’t just dilute their meaning. We damage our spiritual formation.

1. We weaken our resilience.

If we treat every cultural challenge as persecution, we won’t be ready for the real thing. Following Jesus requires a kind of spiritual muscle; a willingness to endure hardship without becoming hardened. But that muscle doesn’t develop if we call every bruise a broken bone. We’ll become brittle instead of bold. And friends, we've all read the end of the Book. The real thing is coming.

2. We distort our witness.

When Christians cry “persecution” in contexts where we still enjoy extraordinary freedom, it sounds absurd to the world. And often offensive to those who’ve truly suffered. It makes the gospel look like a grievance rather than good news. And it makes us look self-centered rather than Spirit-led.

3. We dishonor those who’ve truly suffered.

Around the world, believers are being jailed, displaced, and even killed for their faith. To apply the same word — persecuted — to the experience of losing influence or facing cultural pushback is, frankly, an insult. It’s not malicious, but it is careless. And we can do better.

4. We lose the power of Jesus’ words.

When Jesus said, “Pray for those who persecute you,” He meant it as a radical call to sacrificial love in the face of suffering that could cost you everything. If we apply that to minor irritations, the command starts to feel quaint. But it’s not quaint. It’s revolutionary. And we need it now more than ever.

Conclusion: The Resilience We’ll Need

I don’t doubt that my friend who told me they were praying for Donald Trump meant well. And honestly? I hope we’re all praying for people in positions of power, whether we love them, fear them, or disagree with them. That’s obedience. That’s maturity.

But here’s what I also hope: that we won’t rush to label every opponent an “enemy,” and every hardship “persecution.”

Not because things aren’t hard. Not because opposition isn’t real. But because the words of Jesus are too precious to water down. They were given to a people who would suffer greatly for their allegiance to Him.

And Christ's words are still sustaining brothers and sisters around the world who are suffering now.

Let’s not use those words to dramatize our discomfort. Let’s let them prepare us for the day when the cost of discipleship might actually rise. When the choice to follow Jesus might actually put something on the line.

Because if that day comes, and for some it already has, we will need these words more than ever:

“Love your enemies.”
“Pray for those who persecute you.”
“Rejoice and be glad, for great is your reward in heaven.”

Let’s not waste them.