The longer I’ve been involved in politics, and the more I’ve grown in my faith, the more I’ve come to appreciate practicality. There are people with a lot of influence and power with questionable integrity, motives and methodology, and if I only cared about being right in the abstract, I’d reject them wholeheartedly. But because I care about what’s achieved in the real world, I can’t die on the hill of idealism. It’s a luxury I can’t afford.
I’ve seen influencer after influencer rise to national acclaim relying not on substance or even originality but chasing shock value, strategic chaos and virality over truth. And for a long time, I despised it. In my view, they weren’t just debasing themselves, but debasing the nation. They were fueling a dumbed down dialogue that catered to the lowest common denominator with no concern for how it would affect the country. Most of them seemed to prioritize riches and fame above anything else.
But a lot of the people that started their empires to feed their egos have ultimately become useful. They’ve started asking real questions. They’ve initiated serious, worthwhile discourse. They’ve pulled important debates from the most obscure corners of the Internet to the mainstream. They’ve changed minds, they’ve changed hearts, and they’ve helped change the culture.
Because of them, I was open to Elon Musk’s embrace of MAGA. I recognized that while I wasn’t particularly a fan of him, that he could still serve a purpose.
For a long time, I was mostly indifferent. Of course, I loved that he bought Twitter, and gave free speech a fighting chance in social media. But that was pretty much where my admiration ended.
I don’t know how productive it would be to explain every gripe I have with him. I’m trying to be more careful with my words. But even after he got involved with the Trump campaign, Elon never really passed the vibe check for me.
Outside of a personality that just never appealed to me, I realized in September of 2024 that Elon would never be the champion that the American right wanted to believe he was.
What happened here in 2020 happened 2 years later in Brazil. They stole an election, criminalized acknowledging it, and depended on the compliance of Big Tech to legitimize their installed government and suffocate dissent. Elon talked a big game, promising he’d never give in to these communists’ commands, but months into the standoff, that’s exactly what he did.
I don’t necessarily blame him for it. If I were in his shoes, I don’t know if I’d have the strength to do anything differently.
But that showed me who he really was, what really mattered to him, and what happens when you have everything but a relationship with God.
He calls himself a “cultural Christian” who has a level of appreciation for the teachings of Jesus and what a strong religious foundation can do for Western Civilization. And I guess that’s an improvement for an atheist. But when you read between the lines, his perspective seems like it was forged more out of political convenience than spiritual conviction. He sees that statistically, Christianity is a net benefit for society and advances many of his goals. But for someone that relishes validation and attention the way he does, it’s also reasonable to conclude that he knew he’d get farther with conservatives showing at least moderate interest in faith.
All that to say, until Musk fully surrenders to God, and believes in the Bible not as a compilation of helpful suggestions or a birthrate raising strategy or an icebreaker at Mar-a-Lago, his “cultural Christianity” won’t get him far.
He’s the richest man in the world. The literal mascot of “f*ck you” money.
If there’s anyone that should’ve been able to take a principled stand without worrying about the ramifications, it should’ve been him.
But Brazil is one of Twitter’s largest markets. And while I don’t believe he’s ever addressed it publicly, the logical conclusion is that he wasn’t willing to take the financial hit of ceasing operations there.
Prior to this, I’d been fixating on the passage in the Bible about how it’s easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but all things being possible through God. And then something clicked for me.
I don’t think it’s especially difficult for the rich to get to heaven because they’re uniquely evil or because toiling in poverty will make us holy.
I think for most people, money and power are addictive. The more they have, the more attached to it they become, and in many cases, the more they want. And the more consumed they become with maintaining and expanding what they have on Earth, the less they’re able to devote to God or focus on what’s eternal.
I also think that human nature predisposes us to hear Him and submit to Him much more easily at our lowest points than at our highest.
My Bible class at church had been studying the gospel of John around the time, and my mind wandered to Nicodemus and the woman and the well. Two portraits of the opposite ends of the human condition. Nicodemus was one of the most powerful, respected men in Jerusalem, as not only a pharisee but referred to as “ruler of the Jews,” and likely extremely well off financially based on the spices he brought to bury Jesus.
The woman at the well was alone in the middle of the day, indicating she’d been shunned by her community, as women at the time would typically travel in groups around dawn or dusk to draw water, when the weather was more temperate. But she was out at noon, with the sun beating down on her, in isolation, likely due to the scandal of her 5 husbands and extramarital affair. She was an outcast.
When Nicodemus came to Jesus, he did it in the dead of night, not wanting to be seen, because he had everything to lose. After the woman at the well met Jesus, she ran towards the masses, proclaiming His name, without a care in the world for consequences or convention. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that she had nothing to lose.
People like to think of money and status as freedom, and I get it. Up to a point, that’s probably true.
But without God as an anchor, the rich man is still a slave. Maybe a more comfortable slave, and maybe with a less demanding master. But a slave nonetheless.
Based on what I’ve observed – especially since his fallout with Trump this week – Elon Musk seems like a slave to his fortune and a slave to his pride.
That doesn’t mean he always will be. That doesn’t mean he’s incapable of doing good. That doesn’t mean everything he’s ever done is rooted in his own greed or grandeur.
But he crashed out on the world stage because a bill didn’t serve his business interests, and was so blinded by his own hubris he thought he could openly challenge Donald Trump and come out on top.
Trump himself had similar impulses. The argument could be made that he still does. But I think the attempt on his life changed him forever, and on some level he knows that he has to answer to something higher than himself.
The Bible never spells it out plainly, so I want to be careful not to express an opinion as though it’s a fact. But I believe God tells us to worship Him and die to ourselves, not because He’s some kind of raging egomaniac, but because when we don’t worship Him, we end up worshipping something or someone else – and it always ends in disaster.
None of us will ever be perfect or immune to our flesh. But the more often we make the choice to center God, the less often we’ll find ourselves in situations like Elon’s.
Elon took a massive risk in publicly supporting Trump’s bid for reelection – and I commend him for it.
But as long as he’s driven by self, he’ll never reach his true potential. None of us will.
what do you think?