The story for me goes something like: Jesus had an intimate, dialectical relationship with religious mythology, and through this found a way to build political power from the people. His relationship to God formed him into an organizer. He revealed a gospel that was material, that sought justice at all costs, that prioritized the poor and oppressed—all of it faithful to the Spirit and tradition of the Scriptures.

As Jesus sent out bands of trained disciples—that he faithfully served and loved for years—to do as he did and serve the people, provide political education, as well as pastoral support to anti-imperialists, his movement grew and masses were growing in political consciousness. Those same masses crowded the streets to welcome him into Jerusalem, declaring him the Son of God.

Perhaps, in the mind of Jesus, this moment of mass-support gave the movement permission to escalate. Jesus preached, openly declaring God’s coming judgment to the rich, the religious hypocrites in power, and even to the occupying Roman Empire. Soon after, him and his followers occupied the temple, using force to expel merchants, and all those defiling the temple. This was too far for the religious authorities that benefited from corruption in the temple.

Jesus witnessed support for his movement waning as various leaders denounced him, calling him possessed and a false prophet. Eventually even his closest comrades, those he spent years teaching, traveling with, abandoned him. Empire’s representative, Pontius Pilate, caved into the demands of the religious authorities to torture and execute Jesus.

In the wake of his death, a Resurrection was experienced, a Martyred God was declared, and this apocalyptic movement, both religious and political, spread throughout the Roman Empire, quickly deviating into many forms, eventually being co-opted by the dominant forces of society, including Empire itself.

But is Jesus God? Did he rise from the dead? Did he literally heal the sick with a single command?

Sometimes, I think so. But never without a wariness, knowing what we take as orthodoxy has been formed by suspicious (if not apostate) powers.

I’ve met the love of God—sprawled out, face-down during a revival, shaking with convicting mercy—and when a co-worker saved my ass from being fired—and when I first marched with radicals, openly rebuking the state, the rich, and our so-called leaders, and calling for a revolution. I want everyone to experience God—this warm humming sitting beneath all things, reaching for truer possibilities—even if they can’t name it as God.

For the God of Christ’s insurrection, this isn’t a concern.

Jesus came to free the prisoners, to tear down the tyrants, to heal the sick, and to lift up the oppressed. The good news was material, both destructive and creative, embodying the fullness of God’s transformative judgment. We can theorize all day about how God’s judgment is realized, and attempt to map out the after-life—but the revolution doesn’t need more Protestants. The kind of Christians the revolution needs are those who know God in the masses. May our theology never distract us from the need to faithfully build a world where exploitation is crushed and it is easy to do good. May God’s love form us into committed revolutionaries, that we too can be like Christ, faithful to the Way of liberation in the midst of persecution. May we forge that new and better world we believe to be possible.