The Gospel of White Anxiety According to St. Kyle of Kenosha

A Theology of Fear Wearing Courage

Satire alert.
No saints were harmed in the writing of this piece. Several narratives were. If you feel personally attacked, consider the possibility that something true just brushed past your armor.

There is a particular anxiety loose in this country that wears patriotism like a costume and calls itself courage. It is not the fear of hunger, or eviction, or illness. It is the fear of slipping one rung down while still standing near the top. A fear so abstract it has to invent enemies just to feel real.

This anxiety does not say, “I am afraid.”
It says, “I am defending civilization.”

And like all good theologies, it has saints.

The Making of a Saint

Saint Kyle of Kenosha did not arise from the margins. He emerged from the soft center of suburban America, where nothing has ever really been asked of anyone except to keep the lawn trimmed and the property values intact. When meaning is scarce, hero fantasies rush in to fill the gap. When masculinity has been reduced to vibes and grievance, violence begins to look like purpose.

This is how martyrdom gets rebranded as merchandise.

Fragility from the Throne

The Gospel of White Anxiety insists it is under siege, even while holding most of the power, most of the weapons, most of the microphones, and most of the historical receipts. It claims fragility from inside dominance. It speaks the language of extinction while standing in the spotlight.

This gospel needs young men with guns because it cannot sit still long enough to ask why it feels so hollow.

Fear, Properly Dressed

The fantasy is simple.
Chaos is coming.
Order is masculine.
Violence is virtue.
And fear, when dressed correctly, becomes righteousness.

In this story, you are never just scared. You are brave.
You are never confused. You are awake.
You are never reacting. You are defending.

Property becomes sacred. Protest becomes desecration. And suddenly a teenager with a rifle is not a symptom but a symbol. A vessel. A projection screen large enough to hold an entire nation’s unresolved terror of losing control.

Not the Jesus You’re Looking For

This is not Christianity. Jesus refused the sword even when it would have made things easier. He refused hero fantasies altogether. He chose humiliation over domination, presence over power, and paid for it with his life.

That makes him deeply inconvenient for people who prefer their saviors armed and validated.

The New Martyrdom Economy

The Gospel of White Anxiety replaces repentance with certainty. It replaces humility with podcasts. It replaces self-examination with donations.

Martyrdom, in this tradition, does not require sacrifice.
It requires loyalty to the narrative and a willingness to never, ever admit error.

What is actually being defended here is not freedom.
It is hierarchy.
With better branding.

Anxiety as Ideology

This anxiety cannot be soothed because it does not want peace. Peace would require letting go of the fantasy that someone else is stealing what was never promised. Peace would require grief. And grief would require honesty.

So instead, fear becomes armor. Anxiety becomes ideology. And violence becomes a language for feelings that were never allowed to be named.

What Courage Actually Looks Like

Here is the truth no one in this gospel wants to hear.

If your identity needs a gun to feel secure, it was already collapsing.
If your masculinity needs a teenage martyr, it was already hollow.
If your faith requires enemies to stay alive, it has lost the plot entirely.

Courage does not look like this. Courage looks like staying present when the story breaks down. Courage looks like not turning fear into a weapon. Courage looks like refusing the cheap high of righteous panic and choosing the slower work of becoming human.

A Rejection and a Blessing

The Gospel of White Anxiety offers applause.
It offers absolution without repentance.
It offers hero fantasies for people who have never been asked to give anything real.

I reject this gospel.

Not because I am afraid of it.
But because I am tired of pretending fear deserves a halo.

May we learn to sit with our anxiety without baptizing it.
May we stop calling panic “principle.”
And may the day come when no one needs a gun to feel seen.

Amen.

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One Last Thing for the Brave, the Fed-Up, and the Spiritually Belligerent

If this satire stirred something in you, take a look at the card designed for the exact moment a Christian Nationalist starts lecturing you about “biblical truth” while clutching a flag and a conspiracy theory.

It’s a prayer card — not just for you, but for them.
A small, sacred interruption.
A pocket-sized reset button for people who confuse the Gospel with their voter registration.

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