A Special Appeal to Christians in a Time of Global Crisis

Christ calls us to be light and salt—not silent observers of authoritarianism disguised as salvation.

As a Christian observing from Australia, I understand the powerful appeal of leaders like Donald Trump, Vladimir Putin, and Viktor Orbán—especially to believers who see a world spinning off its moral axis. In a time marked by cultural confusion, political corruption, and growing spiritual emptiness, it’s tempting to place our hopes in strongmen who promise to fight back, restore order, and uphold traditional values.

Now that Trump has returned to the presidency, many Christians feel vindicated. After all, doesn’t he oppose the very ideologies that have caused so much damage—radical progressivism, moral relativism, globalist overreach?

But this isn’t just about Trump. Putin cloaks his authoritarianism in Orthodox symbolism and Russian exceptionalism. Orbán brands Hungary as a Christian democracy while hollowing out democratic institutions. All three speak the language of faith and tradition—while consolidating power in ways that undermine the very spiritual values they claim to defend.

And so, I believe we are at a dangerous crossroads.

This is not just an American problem—it is a global one. Across the world, democracies are weakening, societies are fragmenting, and faith is being manipulated to serve political ends. Millions are suffering, and in our desire for stability, we risk making the same mistake that history has repeated too many times: putting our trust in men and in power instead of principle.

We need to pause. Not to condemn those who support these leaders, but to reflect on where we are, what we are being asked to support, and what it means for the body of Christ in this generation.

Let us look not to headlines or politicians, but to Christ—and specifically, to His temptations in the wilderness.

The Three Temptations of Christ—Then and Now

In the Gospel accounts, Christ faced three temptations: to turn stones into bread, to leap from the temple to prove His divinity, and to accept dominion over the world by bowing to Satan.

The Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoevsky described these questions as being at the ultimate spiritual crossroads of human history—questions that every civilization must eventually answer. He wrote:

“By the questions alone, simply by the miracle of their appearance, one can see that one is dealing with a mind not human and transient but eternal and absolute… three images are revealed that will take in all the insoluble historical contradictions of human nature over all the earth.”

In other words, these temptations weren’t invented for dramatic effect. Their very perfection reveals their eternal relevance.

Temptation One: Bread Alone

The first temptation—“Turn these stones into bread”—speaks to our bodily appetites, our desire for comfort and pleasure.

Modern capitalism, stripped of ethics, tells us we are what we consume. The neoliberal worldview proclaims that greed leads to prosperity; the postmodern ethos insists that truth is whatever we want it to be. Together, these ideologies have created a new religion: consumerism.

This is the world many Christians believe Trump, Putin, and Orbán are fighting against. But here’s the tragic irony: their movements do not challenge this false gospel—they embody it. Each of them has built a brand on spectacle, ego, wealth, and domination. They reflect the culture’s broken values while claiming to resist them.

Christ’s answer still stands: “Man shall not live by bread alone.” Freedom is not indulgence. True liberty requires self-mastery.

Temptation Two: Disempowerment

Having been rebuffed on the first temptation, Satan moves to the next by suggesting that the effort required to free ourselves from our appetites is beyond human ability—that we are too weak to master ourselves, so we should simply believe or follow those who promise to lift this burden for us.

But Christ once again rejects this lie, saying, “You shall not put the Lord your God to the test.” In other words, God would not promise us freedom if He did not also give us the capacity to pursue it.

Today, many Christians have been disempowered by strongmen who promise salvation while demanding no accountability. They excuse moral failings by saying, “God uses imperfect vessels,” yet neglect their responsibility to hold those vessels to the standards of truth, decency, and justice. They pray for revival while propping up leaders who make a mockery of faith through lies, cruelty, and corruption.

In Russia, the Orthodox Church has become a mouthpiece for the state, blessing wars of aggression. In Hungary, faith is reduced to a nostalgic badge rather than a living call to conscience. In America, crosses and Bibles are wielded as political props rather than symbols of sacrificial love.

Disempowerment leads to faith without responsibility—and faith without responsibility turns into idolatry. And idolatry always demands a sacrifice: truth is sacrificed, justice is sacrificed, and the most vulnerable are the first to be betrayed.

Temptation Three: Trading the Cross for the Crown

Having failed to tempt Christ with appetite and false faith, Satan turns to the greatest lie: “Bow to me, and I will give you dominion over all the kingdoms of the world.”

Now we see what this really means. On a personal level, it is the invitation to surrender our conscience for unrestrained pleasure and power—the sly deception that hedonism and domination are the same as true happiness.

On a broader level, it is the promise of raw power: the belief that the ends justify the means, that if we can only control the courts, capture the institutions, and crush dissent, then righteousness will somehow prevail.

This is the temptation Christians face globally today: to trade the cross for the crown.

Trump speaks of “retribution.” Putin silences critics while draping himself in the language of Christian civilization. Orbán rewrites laws to eliminate opposition, quoting scripture to cloak injustice. They promise moral certainty, national greatness, and religious protection—but they demand your conscience and your obedience in return.

But Jesus said no. His kingdom cannot be found in coercion or false promises. It is not in hedonism, which leads only to despair. It is not given by strongmen who claim salvation through submission. It can only be found within the heart—cultivated daily through moral living until it blossoms and reveals the kingdom of God.

The Deeper Danger

These temptations have not just returned—they’ve been rebranded as virtues. Freedom is now framed as license. Faith becomes a political identity. Power is seen as righteousness.

And the most dangerous lie? That the only solution left is divine intervention. That only God can save us—so we can abdicate responsibility. But that too is a temptation: the temptation of fatalism, of surrender, of blind allegiance to those who claim to speak for God while behaving like kings.

The Path Forward: A Global Christian Response

We cannot go on like this. The global Church must offer more than partisan politics and culture war slogans. We must model something better.

That begins with rejecting the three temptations—just as Christ did.

It requires us to affirm that freedom is sacred and moral; that power is to be shared, not hoarded; and that peace is built through conscience, not coercion.

That vision is embodied in the Freedom Declaration for Peace—a global call to rediscover the moral foundations of civil society. Not a political program, but a spiritual and philosophical realignment for a world that has lost its story.

It declares that cooperation, not conquest, is the path forward. That freedom, rightly understood, is God’s gift to all humanity. And that the role of Christians is not to dominate nations, but to serve as moral exemplars in every society.

Let the Kingdom Begin Within

Christ said, “The kingdom of God is within you.” That’s where our revolution begins—not in Washington, Moscow, Budapest, or Canberra, but in the quiet conviction that we are called to a higher standard.

Not to win at all costs, but to live with moral clarity.

Not to impose truth, but to embody it.

Not to seek kings, but to follow the King who knelt, who washed feet, who forgave His enemies.

A Final Word

To my fellow Christians around the world—whether you live under liberal democracies, fragile regimes, or rising autocracies—this is our moment.

Trump is back in power. Putin continues to tighten his grip. Orbán is entrenching a model many seek to replicate. But beneath it all is growing disillusionment. The world is hungry for something deeper than strongmen and slogans.

It is hungry for peace rooted in principle, for truth spoken with grace, and for freedom grounded in virtue.

We can be the answer to that hunger.

Let it be said that when the temptations returned, we chose Christ again.

Join the movement not of kings, but of conscience.

👉 Sign the Freedom Declaration for Peace — and let the world see that followers of Christ still stand for humility, responsibility, and the true meaning of freedom.