AI Is A Gateway To The Welfare State
October 6, 2026 |
Keith Giles
And maybe you do too.
No truer statement could be said about me.
I woke up just last week, poured my coffee, and stepped onto the porch to check the day’s messages and notifications. That’s when I saw it—a video of a beautiful Palestinian child being brutalized under the weight of occupation and injustice.
I set my phone down and wept.
Not for a minute—
but for 45 minutes straight.
I sat there crying for children I will never meet who are suffering halfway across the world.
This isn’t new. It’s become a pattern in my life. Ever since deconstructing my faith, I’ve become more tender. More vulnerable. More human.
More me.
What religion once hardened in me, healing has softened.
My heart aches now for anything that causes human suffering. And I’m okay with that.
In fact, I’m grateful for it.
I am, now and forever, a pacifist.
And I believe Jesus was one too.
I cannot, in any way, reconcile the God I know—the God of love, the Christ of compassion—with a god who delights in war, violence, and genocide.
That kind of god is not worthy of worship.
That kind of god is a false idol—built in the image of empire and conquest, not the image of Christ.
A God who sanctions bloodshed is unworthy of devotion.
Unworthy of a following.
Unworthy of your heart.
But Christ? Christ came to proclaim a different message:
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”
— Matthew 5:9
He taught us not to retaliate, not to dominate, not to destroy.
Instead, He taught us how to be human in the most divine way.
He gave us these to live by:
Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness,
faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
— Galatians 5:22–23
Not conquest.
Not cruelty.
Not nationalism dressed up as holiness.
He blessed the people no one else blessed:
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.— Matthew 5:3–10
And the Bible warns us plainly of deception in God’s name:
“Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.”
— 1 Peter 5:8“For Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light.”
— 2 Corinthians 11:14“If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.”
— 1 Corinthians 13:1
Without love—we’re just noise.
Without compassion—we’ve missed the entire point.
So yes—I wear my heart on my sleeve.
And if that’s my weakness, then let it also be my glory.
Because this world doesn’t need more hot takes.
It doesn’t need louder opinions or clever theology.
It needs people who feel.
People who care.
People who weep.
This world needs you.
Your heart.
Your softness.
Your compassion.
Your tendency to cry when things are unjust.
Your instinct to reach out, to check in, to give what you have.
You may not realize it, but you are doing holy work every time you show up with tenderness in a hardened world.
Every time you choose peace over power,
empathy over apathy,
love over indifference—
you are helping build the kingdom of God.
You are valuable.
You matter.
What you feel matters.
What you do matters.
Your compassion is not a burden—it’s your superpower.
Your tears are not weakness—they are sacred.
Your heart is not “too much”—it is exactly what the world needs right now.
So please, don’t stop caring.
Don’t stop feeling.
Don’t stop choosing love—even when it breaks your heart.
Because Jesus did.
And if we are to follow him,
we must walk with open hearts—even when it hurts.
Let your heart break.
Let it move you.
Let it shape how you show up.
Let it change what you fight for.
And let it help change the world—
one act of compassion at a time.
