Commercial Introduction
In the spirit of George Carlin and Christopher Hitchens, the son of a former Catholic nun and a Franciscan brother delivers a deeply irreverent and biblically correct takedown of far-right Christian hatred—a book for believers, atheists, agnostics, and anyone who’ll ever have to deal with a Christian nationalist. For more than two centuries, the United States Constitution has given us the right to a society where church and state exist independently. But Christianity has been hijacked by far-right groups and politicians who seek to impose their narrow views on government, often to justify oppressive and unequal policies. The extremists who weaponize the Bible for earthly power aren’t actually on the side of Jesus—and historically they never have been. How do we fight back against those acting—literally—in bad faith?
Comedian and broadcaster John Fugelsang finally offers the answers. In this informative, perspective-shifting book, Fugelsang takes readers through common fundamentalist arguments on abortion, immigration, LGBTQ rights, and more—exposing their hypocrisy and inaccuracy through scripture, common sense, and deeply inappropriate humor. It offers practical tips on how to debate your loved one, coworker, or neighbor on the issues that divide us using that Bible they claim to follow.
But Fugelsang’s message is about more than just taking down hypocrites. It’s about fighting for the love, mercy, and service that are supposed to make up the heart of Christianity. Told with Fugelsang’s trademark blend of radical honesty, comedy, and deep political and religious knowledge, Separation of Church and Hate is the book every American needs today. It’s a rallying cry for compassion and clarity for anyone of any faith who’s sick of religion being used as a cloaking device for hate.NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • In the spirit of George Carlin and Christopher Hitchens, the son of a former Catholic nun and a Franciscan brother delivers a deeply irreverent and biblically correct takedown of far-right Christian hatred—a book for believers, atheists, agnostics, and anyone who’ll ever have to deal with a Christian nationalist.For more than two centuries, the United States Constitution has given us the right to a society where church and state exist independently. But Christianity has been hijacked by far-right groups and politicians who seek to impose their narrow views on government, often to justify oppressive and unequal policies. The extremists who weaponize the Bible for earthly power aren’t actually on the side of Jesus—and historically they never have been. How do we fight back against those acting—literally—in bad faith?
Comedian and broadcaster John Fugelsang finally offers the answers. In this informative, perspective-shifting book, Fugelsang takes readers through common fundamentalist arguments on abortion, immigration, LGBTQ rights, and more—exposing their hypocrisy and inaccuracy through scripture, common sense, and deeply inappropriate humor. It offers practical tips on how to debate your loved one, coworker, or neighbor on the issues that divide us using that Bible they claim to follow.
But Fugelsang’s message is about more than just taking down hypocrites. It’s about fighting for the love, mercy, and service that are supposed to make up the heart of Christianity. Told with Fugelsang’s trademark blend of radical honesty, comedy, and deep political and religious knowledge, Separation of Church and Hate is the book every American needs today. It’s a rallying cry for compassion and clarity for anyone of any faith who’s sick of religion being used as a cloaking device for hate.
https://www.amazon.com/Separation-Church-Hate-Fundamentalists-Flock-Fleecing/
Table of Contents
An introduction
01 - An inconvenient radical Jew02 - Paul, Jesus's PR man, who is not Jesus
03 - Master-race Christians of the 21st century, and how to debate them
04 - Thou shalt not take all of this too literally
05 - Thou shalt not hate feminists
06 - Thou shalt not hate the gays
07 - Thou shalt not hate people who have abortions
08 - Thou shalt not hate "illegals"
09 - Thous shalt not hate on poor people
10 - Thou shalt let go of thy sex hang-ups
11 - Thou shalt not kill people who kill people to prove killing people is wrong
12 - Thou shalt not hate gun control or worship warrior bro-dude Jesus
13 - Thou shalt not hate Jews, Muslims, or even atheists
14 - Thou shalt not be, or defend, a White supremacist
15 - The Christians and the Christ followers -
Summary - One Paragraph for Each Chapter
An Introduction
The author recounts being raised by two ex-clergy parents—a former nun and a Franciscan brother—who embodied a compassionate, service-oriented Christianity. He contrasts this upbringing with the rise of right-wing fundamentalism that distorted faith into nationalism and cruelty. He explains how American Christianity has been hijacked by media-driven figures using religion for power, condemning the poor and minorities while ignoring Jesus’s teachings on mercy, justice, and love. The introduction sets up the book’s goal: to reclaim the Bible from hypocrites and remind believers and skeptics alike that true Christianity is rooted in empathy, not domination.
1 – An Inconvenient Radical Jew
Jesus was a poor, brown-skinned, nonviolent Jewish reformer who challenged both empire and religious hierarchy, preaching equality, humility, and compassion for society’s outcasts. The chapter dismantles the sanitized image of a white, warrior-like savior, showing that his real message—love your enemies, care for the poor, reject greed—was profoundly political and subversive. Through the Sermon on the Mount and parables like the Good Samaritan, Jesus called out hypocrisy, rejected public piety, and championed justice over ritual. The author frames him as the original social revolutionary whose words indict modern Christian nationalism far more than they support it.
2 – Paul, Jesus’s PR Man, Who Is Not Jesus
This chapter argues that while Paul the Apostle shaped Christianity’s theology, his letters often reinterpreted or softened Jesus’s radical social message, turning a Jewish reform movement into an institutional religion. Paul’s brilliance as a communicator helped spread the faith, but his patriarchal tone, obsession with sin, and fixation on personal salvation diluted Jesus’s focus on compassion and communal justice. The author contrasts “Pauline Christianity” with “Jesus Christianity,” warning that many modern churches follow Paul’s doctrines more than Jesus’s example, creating moral loopholes that justify intolerance and power politics.
3 – Master-Race Christians of the 21st Century, and How to Debate Them
Here, the author examines Christian nationalism as a modern fusion of racism, authoritarianism, and selective Bible quoting. These “master-race Christians” claim moral superiority while promoting exclusion, white grievance, and anti-democratic control. He explains how to counter their arguments using scripture—particularly Jesus’s words about loving neighbors, rejecting violence, and serving the poor. The chapter exposes the manipulation of fear and faith that fuels movements from Trumpism to militia Christianity and argues that true debate requires calmly exposing how their ideology violates every commandment of the Gospel they profess.
4 – Thou Shalt Not Take All of This Too Literally
This section critiques biblical literalism as intellectual laziness and moral cowardice. The author notes that ancient scriptures were written for different eras, cultures, and languages, often metaphorically, and that taking them word-for-word leads to cruelty, not holiness. He urges readers to embrace context, allegory, and historical nuance—reminding that even Jesus reinterpreted scripture to serve compassion over law. Literalists, he argues, weaponize verses against science, women, and minorities while ignoring Christ’s command to think, evolve, and love. Faith, he insists, should expand understanding, not narrow it.
5 – Thou Shalt Not Hate Feminists
The author dismantles the myth that Christianity demands female submission, revealing how Jesus’s ministry elevated women, welcomed them as disciples, and defied patriarchal norms. He traces how later male leaders and fundamentalists suppressed that legacy to maintain power. The chapter calls out modern misogynist theology that vilifies feminism, birth control, and equality while contradicting the Gospel’s spirit. True biblical feminism, he argues, is simply returning to Jesus’s radical inclusion—where compassion, not control, defines gender relations.
6 – Thou Shalt Not Hate the Gays
This chapter attacks homophobia disguised as faith, explaining how selective misreadings of Leviticus and Paul’s letters sustain prejudice unsupported by Jesus’s words—since Jesus never condemned same-sex love. The author contextualizes “clobber verses,” showing they referred to ancient purity laws or exploitative acts, not modern consensual relationships. He reframes acceptance of LGBTQ people as not heretical but deeply Christlike, grounded in mercy, justice, and the Golden Rule. Christianity’s moral test, he argues, is whether it can stop using the Bible to justify cruelty.
7 – Thou Shalt Not Hate People Who Have Abortions
Rejecting the weaponization of abortion politics, the author shows that the Bible never explicitly bans abortion and that early Christian compassion centered on helping, not punishing, women. He recounts how the Religious Right adopted abortion decades after Roe v. Wade as a partisan tool, not a moral awakening. Jesus’s focus on mercy, healing, and personal conscience stands opposed to criminalizing reproductive choice. The chapter argues that a truly pro-life faith must prioritize healthcare, childcare, and poverty reduction—not coercion and shame.
8 – Thou Shalt Not Hate “Illegals”
This section indicts anti-immigrant rhetoric as antithetical to Christianity, reminding readers that Jesus himself was a refugee child. The author cites biblical commands to welcome strangers and care for foreigners as integral to Jewish and Christian law. He exposes how xenophobia and border cruelty mask political opportunism, not piety, and urges reclaiming scripture to defend empathy, asylum, and human dignity. “Loving the stranger,” he writes, is not optional—it’s the heart of what makes a nation moral.
9 – Thou Shalt Not Hate on Poor People
The author skewers prosperity preachers and right-wing Christians who blame the poor for their suffering while worshiping wealth. Drawing from Jesus’s parables and Matthew 25, he argues that neglecting the poor is the gravest sin a Christian nation can commit. True discipleship demands structural compassion—fair wages, social safety nets, and justice for the marginalized. He reminds that Jesus sided with the hungry, the sick, and the imprisoned—not the tax-cut crowd—and that moral failure begins when comfort outweighs conscience.
10 – Thou Shalt Let Go of Thy Sex Hang-Ups
This humorous yet serious chapter examines how centuries of repression and shame about sexuality stem from church control, not divine law. Jesus never condemned consensual sex but condemned hypocrisy and exploitation. The author contrasts healthy, guilt-free love with the fear-based purity culture that still scars believers. He encourages readers to see sexual ethics through empathy, consent, and honesty—values rooted in the same compassion Jesus showed to the woman caught in adultery.
11 – Thou Shalt Not Kill People Who Kill to Prove Killing People Is Wrong
Targeting death-penalty hypocrisy, this section argues that execution defies both Christ’s teachings and logic. The author exposes how “pro-life” conservatives endorse state killing while citing a savior who forgave his executioners. He recounts Jesus’s rejection of vengeance, the “cast the first stone” ethic, and the gospel’s command to value redemption over retribution. Real justice, he insists, isn’t about punishment but restoration—and a society claiming to follow Jesus cannot defend killing as moral.
12 – Thou Shalt Not Hate Gun Control or Worship Warrior Bro-Dude Jesus
The author mocks the myth of “gun-loving, alpha-male Jesus,” contrasting it with the pacifist healer who told followers to put away their swords. He links America’s gun cult to toxic masculinity and a false gospel equating power with righteousness. Scripture, he argues, calls for disarmament, empathy, and nonviolence, not militarized self-idolatry. Christian gun worship, he warns, turns faith into a death cult—replacing compassion with paranoia and confusing courage with firepower.
13 – Thou Shalt Not Hate Jews, Muslims, or Even Atheists
This chapter challenges religious tribalism, reminding readers that Jesus was Jewish and preached universal love. The author condemns anti-Semitism, Islamophobia, and atheist-bashing as forms of spiritual insecurity and ignorance. True faith, he says, should respect all sincere seekers of truth, not fear them. By citing interfaith solidarity and shared moral principles, he argues that pluralism is not a threat to Christianity but its fulfillment—since love of neighbor has no denominational limit.
14 – Thou Shalt Not Be, or Defend, a White Supremacist
The author traces how racism and Christianity intertwined in America—from slavery to modern nationalism—and exposes how some churches still sanctify white privilege. He recalls that Jesus condemned hierarchy, called out hypocrisy, and built a multiethnic movement. The Gospel’s message—“the last shall be first”—directly rebukes supremacist ideology. He urges believers to confront racism as a sin, not a political issue, and insists that silence equals complicity when faith is used to bless hate.
15 – The Christians and the Christ Followers
In the closing section, the author distinguishes between “Christians,” who weaponize religion for identity and control, and “Christ-followers,” who actually practice love, humility, and service. He argues that the survival of both faith and democracy depends on the latter reclaiming the moral narrative. Real discipleship, he concludes, means rejecting culture-war theatrics and living by the inconvenient, radical compassion of Jesus. The book ends as a call to action: separate the Church from hate, and the faithful from the frauds.
Summary - Three Paragraphs for Each Chapter
An Introduction
John Fugelsang begins by recounting his extraordinary upbringing as the son of a nun and a Franciscan brother who broke their vows but not their faith. His mother, Sister Damien, served as a nurse in Africa; his father, Brother Boniface, taught history in Brooklyn. Together they raised their children in an atmosphere of deep Catholic devotion but also of social conscience, compassion, and skepticism toward hypocrisy. He humorously recalls the contradictions of growing up in a house where Jesus’s words about service, forgiveness, and care for the poor were taken literally—yet surrounded by a Church that was becoming increasingly politicized and divided.
As Fugelsang matured, he watched the Christianity of his parents’ generation—the kind grounded in community, humility, and charity—hijacked by a new breed of televangelists and right-wing preachers. Figures like Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson transformed the faith from a moral movement into a political machine that judged rather than comforted. Instead of emphasizing mercy or justice, these self-proclaimed “Christian leaders” built platforms of outrage: condemning gay people, feminists, immigrants, and the poor while glorifying wealth, nationalism, and punishment. To the author, this version of Christianity looked nothing like the teachings of Jesus he learned as a child.
The introduction frames the book’s mission: to reclaim Christianity from those who have twisted it into an authoritarian ideology. Fugelsang argues that fundamentalism is not the heart of religion but its infection—a form of political manipulation masquerading as faith. He distinguishes between spiritual people, who use religion to become better, and fundamentalists, who use it to feel superior. His guiding principle is simple yet radical: if your church spends more time telling you who your enemies are than how to love them, you are not in a church. The rest of the book, he promises, is a guide to taking the Bible back from hypocrites who have turned compassion into control.
1 – An Inconvenient Radical Jew
Fugelsang begins the first chapter by stripping away centuries of cultural distortion to reintroduce Jesus as a revolutionary Jewish teacher—a poor, brown-skinned man in Roman-occupied Palestine who challenged both political oppression and religious rigidity. Far from the sanitized or militarized figure of modern conservative imagination, Jesus preached an ethic of humility, forgiveness, and radical inclusion. He rejected violence, refused wealth, and taught that loving one’s enemies and serving “the least of these” were not lofty ideals but requirements for salvation. His Sermon on the Mount, the author argues, reads like a manifesto for social justice rather than a charter for empire.
The book highlights how Jesus’s core teachings—turning the other cheek, feeding the hungry, rejecting judgment—stand in absolute opposition to today’s self-styled “Christian patriots.” Fugelsang dives into the Beatitudes, pointing out that every group Jesus called “blessed” would be despised by right-wing culture warriors: the meek, the merciful, the peacemakers, and those persecuted for doing good. He stresses that the Nazarene’s attacks on the Pharisees were not an anti-Jewish polemic but a critique of hypocrisy within any religious system that elevates dogma above love. Jesus’s mission, in this reading, was to expose moral posturing as the enemy of compassion.
In its final pages, the chapter reminds readers that Jesus warned explicitly about the kind of public religiosity now common in American politics—“the hypocrites who love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners.” Fugelsang connects this to contemporary Christian nationalism, which substitutes spectacle for substance and dominance for discipleship. By invoking Matthew 25 and the parable of the sheep and the goats, he argues that Jesus gave humanity a clear standard: nations will be judged by how they treat the poor, the stranger, and the imprisoned—not by how loudly they proclaim his name. It is, he concludes, an inconvenient gospel for those who seek power rather than mercy.
2 – Paul, Jesus’s PR Man, Who Is Not Jesus
In this chapter, Fugelsang examines how the Apostle Paul—an intellectual genius, tireless traveler, and brilliant writer—became both the greatest promoter and the greatest distorter of Jesus’s message. He credits Paul with transforming a small Jewish reform movement into a global faith but notes that in doing so, Paul shifted emphasis from Jesus’s social radicalism to personal piety and sexual morality. Through letters written decades after Jesus’s death, Paul crafted theology that sometimes contradicted the compassion of the Gospels, particularly in his views on women, obedience, and sin. The author calls him “Jesus’s PR man,” a marketer who turned a message of liberation into one of institutional control.
Fugelsang explores how Paul’s ideas about faith and grace often overshadowed Jesus’s concrete calls for justice. Where Jesus preached about feeding the hungry and forgiving enemies, Paul built complex doctrines about salvation and purity that appealed to empire and hierarchy. The Church, inheriting Paul’s structure, found it easier to build cathedrals around his words than to follow the carpenter’s example. The result, Fugelsang suggests, is that many Christians today are “Pauline believers” more than Christ followers—quoting the epistles to justify subservience, sexism, and intolerance while ignoring the red-letter words of the Gospels.
Yet the author refuses to vilify Paul entirely. He acknowledges that Paul’s writings also contain visionary defenses of equality—his assertion that “there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female” remains one of history’s most radical egalitarian claims. Fugelsang calls for a reconciliation: to honor Paul’s brilliance while freeing Christianity from the weight of his contradictions. A faith built on Jesus must center compassion over dogma, liberation over legalism, and service over status. The chapter closes by urging readers to distinguish between the messenger who built the church and the teacher who built the message.
3 – Master-Race Christians of the 21st Century, and How to Debate Them
This chapter confronts the rise of Christian nationalism and its fusion with white supremacy, militarism, and authoritarian politics. Fugelsang describes this movement as a “master-race Christianity” that worships a tribal god of power instead of the universal God of love. He exposes how political operatives and preachers have weaponized fear—of immigrants, feminists, and changing demographics—to forge an identity politics wrapped in the flag and the cross. These self-proclaimed patriots claim persecution even as they dominate politics, insisting that America must be ruled by their faith to be saved from moral decay.
Fugelsang dissects the psychology behind this alliance of grievance and piety. For many adherents, Christianity provides moral cover for prejudice: racism, misogyny, and xenophobia are rebranded as “defense of values.” He compares their sense of victimhood to the propaganda of other authoritarian regimes, where leaders portray the dominant majority as besieged. By casting pluralism as evil and equality as oppression, Christian nationalists invert the gospel—idolizing power and calling it righteousness. Their Jesus is a muscular enforcer, a divine bouncer who protects the privileged and punishes the marginalized.
In the practical heart of the chapter, Fugelsang outlines strategies for debating such believers. Rather than mocking them or dismissing religion altogether, he encourages using scripture itself—especially Jesus’s words—to expose hypocrisy. Point to Matthew 25 when they attack the poor, to the Good Samaritan when they demonize foreigners, to “love your enemies” when they call for vengeance. The aim is not to humiliate but to remind them that the Bible they weaponize condemns the very hatred they preach. A calm, informed, and compassionate engagement, he argues, is the most revolutionary response to those who mistake domination for discipleship.
4 – Thou Shalt Not Take All of This Too Literally
Fugelsang opens this chapter by dismantling the notion that every verse of the Bible must be taken as literal fact. He calls biblical literalism “the fastest way to miss the point,” reminding readers that Jesus himself interpreted scripture metaphorically, often turning rigid commandments into moral parables about compassion and humility. The Bible, he argues, is a library, not a manual—a collection of history, poetry, law, and metaphor that must be read with context. When believers treat it as a word-for-word rulebook, they end up idolizing text over truth, using verses to harm others while missing their deeper moral meaning.
The author satirizes the absurdity of selective literalism: those who reject evolution yet eat shrimp, who quote Leviticus to condemn others but ignore its bans on mixed fabrics or working Saturdays. He contrasts this with Jesus’s example, who constantly reinterpreted scripture to place mercy above law—healing on the Sabbath, defending adulterers, and redefining purity as internal rather than ritual. Fugelsang insists that literalism is not faith but fear: a craving for certainty that denies the complexity of language, translation, and moral growth. To take every verse literally is to treat God like a stenographer rather than a teacher.
Finally, Fugelsang argues that spiritual maturity requires reading the Bible like an adult—engaging history, metaphor, and science without anxiety. A living faith, he writes, evolves through compassion and reason, not fossilized obedience. By taking every passage “too literally,” fundamentalists turn scripture into a weapon and God into a bureaucrat. To take it seriously, however, is to follow the spirit that animates it—love of neighbor, justice for the oppressed, and humility before mystery. “Faith,” he concludes, “is not believing every word is true—it’s believing that love is.”
5 – Thou Shalt Not Hate Feminists
This chapter confronts misogyny within Christianity head-on. Fugelsang reminds readers that Jesus’s ministry elevated women in ways that were scandalous in his time—he taught them directly, accepted them as disciples, defended them publicly, and entrusted them with proclaiming his resurrection. Yet centuries of patriarchal church authority buried this history beneath a theology of obedience and silence. He exposes how church fathers and later fundamentalists cherry-picked verses from Paul and Genesis to justify male dominance, twisting a faith of equality into one of control.
Fugelsang skewers modern anti-feminist preachers who depict feminism as rebellion against God, arguing that they rely on fear of female autonomy rather than scripture. He notes that Jesus broke every social taboo against women’s independence and compassionately challenged purity codes and double standards—most famously when he prevented the stoning of an adulteress. The author observes that the real moral decline in America isn’t caused by feminism but by the church’s resistance to it, as women’s rights embody the very justice, empathy, and dignity Jesus preached.
In his closing reflections, Fugelsang calls on readers to reclaim a “Christ-centered feminism,” rooted not in politics but in the moral logic of the Gospels. Feminism, he argues, is not a rejection of faith but a return to it: the belief that all people, regardless of gender, reflect the divine image. He envisions a church where equality isn’t treated as a threat but as worship, where male leaders stop fearing women and start learning from them. The real blasphemy, he says, isn’t feminism—it’s pretending that a man who depended on women for ministry would want them kept quiet.
6 – Thou Shalt Not Hate the Gays
Fugelsang begins with the stark reminder that Jesus never said a single word condemning homosexuality. The obsession with condemning gay people, he argues, stems not from the teachings of Christ but from centuries of misinterpretation and cultural prejudice. He dismantles the “clobber verses” used by homophobes—Leviticus, Romans, Corinthians—by restoring their historical context, showing they referred to ancient purity codes, temple prostitution, or exploitative acts, not consensual love between equals. The Bible’s supposed bans on homosexuality, he insists, are relics of ancient patriarchy, not reflections of divine will.
He contrasts this with Jesus’s consistent prioritization of compassion and inclusion. The Jesus who embraced lepers, tax collectors, and adulterers would never reject people for loving differently. The author ridicules the selective morality of those who condemn gay marriage while excusing greed, violence, or cruelty—all sins Jesus actually addressed. He points out that the moral failure isn’t homosexuality but hypocrisy: the sin of using religion to exclude. To love one’s neighbor means exactly that—without qualifiers or asterisks.
The chapter closes with a call for a more courageous Christianity—one that recognizes LGBTQ inclusion as a moral necessity, not a theological compromise. Fugelsang argues that true Christian ethics must move from obsession with “purity” toward the active pursuit of love and justice. Churches that reject queer people, he warns, are not defending the Bible—they are betraying it. Jesus’s commandment to love others is not conditional, and those who weaponize scripture against others stand judged by the very gospel they ignore.
7 – Thou Shalt Not Hate People Who Have Abortions
Here, Fugelsang dismantles the political idolization of “pro-life” ideology that prioritizes control over compassion. He traces how abortion became a rallying cry for the Religious Right not in the 1970s but years later, when political strategists realized it could unite evangelicals and conservatives under a single moral banner. The early church, he notes, was far more concerned with poverty, injustice, and violence than reproductive control. There is no explicit biblical condemnation of abortion—only a complex tradition of valuing life and mercy.
Fugelsang contrasts the punitive rhetoric of fundamentalists with Jesus’s healing approach. Jesus’s compassion always centered on individuals in crisis, never on punishment. The author notes that if conservative Christians truly cared about preventing abortions, they would champion healthcare, contraception, childcare, and education—all of which reduce unwanted pregnancies. Instead, they idolize fetal life while ignoring the living poor, the sick, and the mother’s dignity. This inversion, he argues, turns “pro-life” into a hollow slogan divorced from actual love.
In the end, Fugelsang reframes reproductive ethics through the lens of empathy and autonomy. Christian faith, he insists, should trust women as moral agents and support them, not condemn them. He reminds readers that God’s mercy is not selective and that the Gospel offers compassion for those facing impossible choices. The true moral stance, he writes, is not to impose pain but to alleviate it—and no nation that shames women while defunding prenatal care can claim to follow Jesus.
8 – Thou Shalt Not Hate “Illegals”
This chapter exposes the hypocrisy of anti-immigrant “Christian nationalism” by reminding readers that Jesus himself was a refugee—born in a manger, fleeing political violence, and living among the displaced. Fugelsang dismantles the xenophobic rhetoric of “protecting borders” as a betrayal of the Gospel command to welcome the stranger. He quotes the Torah’s repeated instruction to care for the foreigner as you would for your own, pointing out that the Bible’s moral logic treats hospitality not as charity but as obligation.
Fugelsang mocks the contradiction of conservative Christians who claim to worship a Middle Eastern refugee while demanding walls and deportations. He ties anti-immigrant fervor to racial panic and political manipulation, revealing how fearmongering replaces empathy in national discourse. Such cruelty, he argues, is not patriotism—it’s idolatry of the state over the soul. The America that cages children at the border while singing hymns has traded the cross for the flag.
The author concludes that immigration policy is the modern test of Christian ethics. Welcoming the stranger is not optional—it is the line between authentic faith and hypocrisy. Jesus’s parable of the Good Samaritan, he reminds us, was about crossing ethnic, religious, and cultural divides to show compassion. If Christians truly wish to make America “Christian,” they must start by acting like the Christ who saw no illegal people—only neighbors in need of welcome.
9 – Thou Shalt Not Hate on Poor People
Fugelsang turns his attention to the prosperity gospel and economic cruelty masquerading as Christian virtue. He condemns the modern habit of equating wealth with divine favor, exposing how it contradicts nearly every word Jesus spoke about money. From “blessed are the poor” to “sell what you have and give to the poor,” the Gospel’s economics are radically redistributive. Yet in modern America, many Christians worship the rich and scorn the needy, calling poverty a moral failure rather than a systemic injustice.
He blames decades of right-wing propaganda and televangelist greed for normalizing cruelty toward the poor. The “Jesus loves capitalism” narrative, he writes, would have been unrecognizable to a man who told the rich young ruler to give everything away. Fugelsang cites Matthew 25 again as the cornerstone of Christ’s social vision: nations are judged not by their wealth but by their compassion for “the least of these.” Every tax cut for the wealthy and cut to welfare programs, he says, is a betrayal of that commandment.
In closing, Fugelsang calls for reclaiming Christianity as an economic ethic of care, not accumulation. To be Christian, he insists, is to fight poverty, not blame the poor. The Gospels demand social systems rooted in empathy—living wages, healthcare, housing—not self-congratulating charity. “Jesus,” he writes, “didn’t say the poor will always be with you so you can ignore them—he said it so you’d never stop serving them.”
10 – Thou Shalt Let Go of Thy Sex Hang-Ups
Fugelsang opens this chapter with humor and honesty, tracing how Christianity’s centuries-long anxiety about sex stems not from Jesus but from church fathers obsessed with control. The author notes that Jesus never condemned consensual sexuality; his moral concern was always about hypocrisy, exploitation, and compassion. Over time, however, religious authorities turned sexual shame into a means of power, inventing purity cultures that equated holiness with repression. Fugelsang skewers the absurdity of moral panics that treat sex as more sinful than greed or cruelty, showing how celibacy and guilt became tools for obedience rather than pathways to virtue.
He highlights the hypocrisy of leaders who police others’ behavior while hiding their own scandals. Sexual control, he argues, has always been political: by making people ashamed of natural desires, institutions gain leverage over their consciences. Fugelsang contrasts this with Jesus’s radical acceptance of human vulnerability—the Christ who defended the adulteress and befriended prostitutes without judgment. To him, healthy sexuality guided by empathy and respect is more sacred than any rulebook. He points out that a religion obsessed with what happens in bedrooms often ignores what happens in boardrooms, where greed and cruelty cause far greater harm.
Ultimately, Fugelsang calls for a Christian ethic rooted in love, not fear. He urges believers to move beyond shame-based purity toward relational integrity—consent, care, and honesty. If the Gospel means liberation, then liberation must include the body as well as the soul. He reminds readers that Jesus’s message was never “control one another,” but “love one another.” Letting go of sexual hang-ups, therefore, is not moral decline—it’s spiritual maturity, reclaiming faith from centuries of repression and hypocrisy.
11 – Thou Shalt Not Kill People Who Kill to Prove Killing People Is Wrong
This chapter dismantles the moral contradiction of Christian support for the death penalty. Fugelsang highlights the irony of a faith centered on a man unjustly executed by the state now defending state execution in his name. He recounts Jesus’s teachings on mercy, forgiveness, and nonviolence—the command to “turn the other cheek” and the refusal to stone sinners—as direct repudiations of retributive justice. Yet many self-described Christians continue to justify killing as deterrence or divine justice, ignoring that Jesus rejected vengeance even while dying on the cross.
Fugelsang exposes the death penalty as both morally and practically bankrupt: disproportionately used against the poor and minorities, riddled with error, and driven by political theater rather than justice. He notes that Jesus’s challenge to “let the one without sin cast the first stone” remains the ultimate indictment of punitive religion. The author skewers “pro-life” conservatives who defend executions, calling it a grotesque inversion of the Gospel—saving fetuses while killing adults in the name of righteousness. Compassion, he argues, is not weakness but wisdom: punishment without restoration only multiplies suffering.
The chapter concludes with an appeal to conscience. Christianity’s moral authority depends on consistency—either life is sacred or it isn’t. Fugelsang insists that if Christians wish to be credible moral witnesses, they must abandon their love affair with retribution and embrace restorative justice. The Gospel offers no loophole for cruelty: “Blessed are the merciful,” Jesus said, not the vengeful. In choosing mercy, a society not only honors its victims but redeems itself.
12 – Thou Shalt Not Hate Gun Control or Worship Warrior Bro-Dude Jesus
Here Fugelsang takes aim at America’s gun cult and the distorted image of “warrior Jesus” that fuels it. He mocks the absurdity of imagining Christ as a divine action hero—muscular, armed, and angry—when the historical Jesus preached radical nonviolence. The author traces how American gun culture fused with Christianity through nationalism, toxic masculinity, and fear, creating a myth of divine self-defense. This “warrior bro-dude Jesus,” he argues, has become a mascot for insecurity, used by preachers and politicians to sanctify violence rather than condemn it.
He contrasts this fantasy with scripture: Jesus told his followers to put away their swords, blessed the peacemakers, and accepted martyrdom rather than fight his captors. Fugelsang laments that modern Christians have traded faith in God for faith in firepower, mistaking paranoia for patriotism. He exposes the hypocrisy of those who claim to defend life while opposing any regulation that might prevent mass death. The gun lobby’s theology of fear, he says, is a form of idolatry—placing weapons where trust in divine compassion should be.
The chapter closes as both satire and sermon. A religion that worships the Prince of Peace cannot simultaneously glorify instruments of death. Fugelsang calls on believers to reclaim courage from aggression, remembering that Jesus’s true strength was restraint. Gun control, he argues, is not about confiscation but about compassion—the moral responsibility to prevent avoidable tragedy. Christianity’s credibility depends on whether it can stand for peace in a culture that profits from fear.
13 – Thou Shalt Not Hate Jews, Muslims, or Even Atheists
Fugelsang begins with a simple truth: Jesus was Jewish, and Christianity’s roots are inseparable from Judaism. Yet centuries of anti-Semitism and tribal exclusivity have warped that heritage into prejudice and suspicion. He condemns the hypocrisy of Christians who worship a Jewish savior while perpetuating hatred of Jews, Muslims, or nonbelievers. Such hostility, he argues, arises not from faith but from insecurity—a fragile ego mistaking difference for danger. True religion, by contrast, recognizes common humanity as sacred ground.
The author highlights the shared moral DNA among major faiths: love of neighbor, hospitality, justice, and humility before mystery. He praises interfaith cooperation and points out that atheists and agnostics often live by values indistinguishable from Christian ethics, even if they reject the label. Hatred of non-Christians, he writes, is rooted in the same authoritarian impulse that drives nationalism—the desire for purity and control. By defining outsiders as enemies, insecure believers manufacture a false sense of righteousness.
In conclusion, Fugelsang calls for a theology of pluralism that reflects Jesus’s universal love. He insists that genuine faith has nothing to fear from diversity because truth doesn’t shrink under scrutiny. Loving one’s enemies, as Jesus commanded, begins with seeing them as fellow children of creation. A Christianity that excludes Jews, Muslims, or atheists, he says, is not Christianity—it’s tribalism with a cross on top.
14 – Thou Shalt Not Be, or Defend, a White Supremacist
In this powerful chapter, Fugelsang exposes the deep entanglement between white supremacy and American Christianity. From slavery to segregation to present-day nationalism, he argues, churches have repeatedly baptized racial hierarchy as divine order. He recalls how slaveowners cited scripture to justify bondage and segregationists quoted the Bible to resist civil rights, turning the Word of God into an instrument of oppression. White supremacy, he writes, is not a cultural deviation from Christianity—it’s the corruption of it.
Fugelsang dismantles the myth that racism is merely a social issue, insisting it is a spiritual disease rooted in pride and fear. He reminds readers that Jesus’s ministry was explicitly multiethnic and anti-hierarchical: the Good Samaritan’s heroism, the Ethiopian eunuch’s conversion, and the Great Commission’s universality all refute racial exclusivity. The chapter also links modern Christian nationalism to this older sin, noting how “Make America Great Again” theology mirrors the same nostalgia for dominance that once justified Jim Crow. Racism, in this light, becomes the oldest heresy in America—a rebellion against Christ’s commandment of universal love.
Fugelsang concludes by urging Christians to confront racism not as allies but as heirs of a moral mandate. Silence, he warns, is complicity; comfort is cowardice. To defend white supremacy, or to ignore it, is to reject the Gospel itself. “The last shall be first” was not a metaphor for heaven—it was a blueprint for justice on Earth. The Church, if it wishes to be Christ’s body, must cleanse itself of its oldest sin by standing unequivocally with the oppressed.
15 – The Christians and the Christ Followers
Fugelsang closes his book by drawing a sharp line between “Christians” and “Christ followers.” The former, he says, use Jesus’s name as a tribal identity, a membership card, or a political brand. The latter actually live by his teachings—compassion, humility, and service. The tragedy of modern America, he argues, is that the loudest Christians so rarely resemble Christ. They preach nationalism, exclusion, and vengeance while the quiet ones—the nurses, activists, and caregivers—embody the Gospel without fanfare.
He contrasts the institutional church’s obsession with power and purity against the moral courage of those who practice radical empathy. Christ followers, he writes, build hospitals, feed the hungry, and forgive enemies; Christians build walls, condemn sinners, and hoard wealth. This is not atheistic cynicism but a plea for integrity: faith divorced from compassion is no faith at all. Jesus’s command was never “believe in me” but “follow me,” and following means doing the work—washing feet, not pointing fingers.
The book ends as both challenge and invitation. Fugelsang calls readers—believers and skeptics alike—to reclaim the moral imagination of Jesus from those who use it as a shield for cruelty. True Christianity, he concludes, has always been about love in action, not dogma in words. “Christians talk about saving souls,” he writes, “but Christ followers save lives.” The separation of church and hate begins when believers stop worshiping Jesus as an idol and start imitating him as an example.
