‘The Resistance’ needs people like you
An unwavering, love-grounded, non-violent response to greed and power.

Whether watching the news or scrolling through social media, it’s hard to escape the tumultuous landscape that is the world today. As a Canadian Christian who strongly values justice and equality, watching what is happening in the United States and Canada as we drift to the far right, it is hard not to feel numb from an uncertainty that borders on despair. What can we do in the face of such resolute and determined injustices?
Some may dismiss this as “politics as usual” – just another time around the circle of “Left vs. Right.” Despite the small ways that might be true, anyone with an awareness and understanding of history knows these current patterns are far from “run of the mill.” Indications point to a culmination of factors that are leading to a far more fundamental and dangerous shift. And while we all are at risk in such a time as this, it is going, and already has begun, to disproportionately impact the vulnerable.
In my own community in Winnipeg’s inner city – a place I have lived and served for decades – we are seeing this play out in tragic ways. Even when things were relatively stable, the work we did alongside the poor, the unhoused, the mentally ill and other marginalized groups was difficult and demanding. We were always under-resourced and overworked, held together only by the deep mutuality and kinship we shared in the struggle.
Over the last few years, we have seen those challenges exponentially amplified while the resources to address them decrease at a startling rate. Our work with transgender folks living on the edge of poverty has led to an increasing demand on our time, resources and support. Yet, as the need grows, securing funding for this work has become even more difficult. The growing hostility towards trans people has made many funders hesitant to contribute, either because they are actively opposed to trans-affirming efforts or because they fear the controversy that comes with supporting this work. Even those who privately express support often decline to get involved publicly, worried about potential backlash. This leaves us in an impossible position – called to serve a community facing heightened vulnerability and risk, while the resources to do so become increasingly scarce. If the sustainability of our ministry is threatened by these growing dynamics, how much more threatened are the very lives of the high-risk people we are serving alongside? And this addresses only one of many overlapping groups of vulnerable people who are facing mounting challenges.
Resistance is obedience
Of course, Christians are no strangers to these historical shifts toward the abuses of power, greed and domination. At our best (and often in smaller groups), we have set ourselves apart by responding in the spirit of mutuality, choosing service, sacrifice, generosity and love. And while those examples have come through non-violent methods, they have in no way been passive or weak. When followers of Jesus embrace a radical obedience to his calling and example, it has always been a powerful expression of resistance.
From Moses standing before Pharaoh to Jesus overturning the table in the temple, our faith is filled with examples of God’s people standing boldly in resistance against oppression, exploitation and injustice. We were taught that following Jesus would set child against parent, that it would make us despised and persecuted, yet we were to persist with peace and grace.
Many of us were also taught by churches, pastors and parents that active resistance against authority was sinful and rebellious. Peace was equated with obedience, demonstrated through the absence of conflict and disruption. Calls for unity were used to quell protest and “divisiveness.” Admonitions to trust and be patient were the only answers given to the desperate and immediate pleas of the suffering.

Power pushback
It should not surprise us that resistance results in pushbacks from systems of power. Without intentionality, all institutions inevitably drift towards an emphasis on stability and sustainability, often at the expense of their original vocation. Calling others to live and speak justice into an unjust world is the prophetic vocation of every Christian. It is a vocation we must rediscover and embrace together.
But what does that look like? What is prophetic resistance?
Prophetic resistance is prophetic because it calls in, calls out and actively confronts injustice. It exposes the falsehoods of oppressive systems and seeks to embody a vision of a world transformed by God’s justice and love. It is resistance because it actively challenges and disrupts systems of harm, refusing to accept the status quo, and works to dismantle structures that actively or passively deny liberation. Put simply, it is the faithful act of seeing and naming what is wrong and working to make it right. It is the active love embodied in the person of Jesus.
In the face of injustice, it is very easy to become angry. And while anger is a fair and honest response, embraced uncritically it can fuel retribution and hate, and end up returning evil for evil. Instead, prophetic resistance calls us to careful and prayerful discernment as we seek our path of resistance. Henri Nouwen described it as being a “contemplative critic,” one who “takes away the illusory mask of the manipulative world and has the courage to show what the true situation is.”

Naming injustice
This means cultivating deep reflection in the face of oppression and injustice in order to discern truth beyond common falsehoods and half-truths. It means courageously and consistently naming specific injustices, and acting with bold compassion to address them, within ourselves, our church and our world. It requires humility to examine one’s own biases, solidarity to work within a community of mutuality and trust, and a commitment to unwavering, love-grounded, nonviolent truth-telling.
It is easy to be deflected from this path, such as by those who would seek to reduce these issues to nothing more than “personal responsibility.” While personal accountability is an important aspect of discipleship, the framing of sin as primarily an individual issue often serves to deflect attention from our systemic culpability. This is not accidental; it is a strategy deeply embedded in the narratives of those in power.
When the oppressed are convinced that their struggles are due to personal failings or the result of a lack of effort on their part, they are less likely to question the structures that harm them.
This narrative keeps people striving to “fix themselves” while the systems creating inequities remain untouched and unchallenged.
We see this when economic struggles are framed as the result of poor budgeting or insufficient work ethic, ignoring systemic barriers like wage inequality, housing discrimination and generational poverty. In conversations about racism, individuals are told to simply “love everyone equally,” bypassing the entrenched realities of white supremacy in legal, educational, economic and religious systems. Even in Christian spaces, the emphasis on personal piety – avoiding sin, being charitable, or “trusting God” – often distracts from the broader call to identify and confront systems of harm.
While individual growth and accountability are important, they are not sufficient to address systemic issues. Changed hearts must lead to changed systems and a changed world. Prophetic resistance, then, requires that we reject this distorted emphasis, shifting our focus to the roots of injustice.
Radical hospitality
That same emphasis on the individual also sets us up for failure when we attempt to engage in prophetic resistance alone. While there are times when we will find ourselves the lone voice calling for change, most often prophetic resistance is an expression of communal discernment and action, grounded in mutuality and solidarity. We become the most effective agents of Christlike resistance when it is born out of genuine communities that are wrestling together through their own struggles and biases. Prophetic resistance is a product of this transformative kinship.
That solidarity is not simply about being “heroes” bravely saving suffering victims. Rather it is about being a community together alongside the oppressed, family at the table of Jesus. And it is at that table that the often hard-earned wisdom of the marginalized becomes the direction we must follow. Therefore it requires the humility (and silence) to listen, learn and follow from the margins.
To do this means finding, participating in, and supporting movements led by marginalized voices and communities. It means advocating for policies and practices that address systemic injustices, both socially and politically. It means creating spaces of radical hospitality and inclusion where that formative community can take shape. It also means recognizing and repenting of the ways we benefit from unjust systems and working to dismantle those systems, even when – especially when – it costs us.
Such resistance can be exhausting, especially when the challenges we face feel insurmountable. This is why hope is essential to the prophetic vocation – not a passive longing, but an active imagination that anchors and sustains us in the present work of justice. For Christians, this hope is rooted in the resurrection, the ultimate demonstration that death and oppression do not have the final word, and that love means liberation for all.
Calling every Christian
It can be easy to assume that the prophetic vocation is reserved for the extraordinary few. And while some are especially gifted in aspects of this work, it is important to remember that the prophetic vocation is the calling of every Christian. It is a way to live out a faith rooted in both the contemplative and the engaged, where they are both integrated and interdependent expressions of the other.
Living out this vocation will look different for each of us, depending on our contexts and giftings. For some, it may mean joining protests or organizing for social change. For others, it may involve creating spaces of radical hospitality or supporting those on the front lines.
Whatever form it takes, the prophetic vocation calls us to act – to resist injustice, to stand in solidarity, and to work for a world where God’s kingdom is made visible.
Jesus’ life and ministry offer us the ultimate model of faithful resistance. He confronted the powers of his day with courage and compassion, refusing to compromise his commitment to justice. Never has this somewhat forgotten vocation been more important for us to remember. And while it is not an easy task, as we move towards those on the margins, we will find ourselves moving towards Jesus as well.
This article was originally published in the March 2025 issues of Christian Courier under the title “Translating Jesus: Radical resistance, hospitality and hope.”



