Lately I've been in conversations online where people are saying that organized religion has done more harm than good. I understand why people say that. They look at what men have done in God’s name and they see it as God's doing.. But I’ve also learned: the problem was never God. It was the hands that held His word without understanding it. Doctrine without discernment, without conscience, without reflection and that’s where corruption begins.
A doctrine isn’t born evil. It becomes so when it’s stripped of the Spirit that inspired it.
Many of them aren't doctrine at all: they’re interpretations taken out of context, overblown and institutionalized until they serve power more than purpose. Christ Himself confronted that distortion. The Pharisees turned divine guidance into social control. They used the law as a fence, but He turned it into a doorway. He said, “You have heard it said… but I tell you.” That was not rebellion; it was restoration. He was resetting the compass back to mercy.
Even those outside religion aren’t exempt from the same sickness. People think rejecting God frees them from doctrine, but every ideology becomes its own religion when it lacks humility. Atheism, capitalism, nationalism, each builds its own altars, each creates its own dogma. The human heart will always worship something; the question is whether it chooses truth or ego.
Someone once told me that if doctrine has caused harm, then the whole belief system is broken. I understand the emotion in that. But I see it like this: one dog bites you, and you learn to be careful. But that doesn’t mean you shoot every dog you see. Caution is wisdom; vengeance is blindness. One harmful interpretation doesn’t make the entire faith corrupt. The lesson isn’t to destroy, it’s to discern.
Also, cruelty is a human invention. Secular thinkers, philosophers, and rationalists have justified oppression with their own pens. The same Enlightenment that claimed to elevate reason also defended slavery and hierarchy. Oppression wears many languages, scripture, science, law etc. but the spirit behind it is always the same: pride without compassion.
That’s why symbols fascinate me. Because they tell the truth about transformation.
In Louisiana and other parts of the South, slave masters once branded runaway slaves with the Fleur-de-Lis. This was once a royal emblem of French rule, burned into Black flesh. What was meant for cattle became a mark of control and terror. But now? That same symbol shines on the helmets of the New Orleans Saints, embroidered on jackets, painted on flags, tattooed on skin, embraced by Creoles, Black, white, and everyone in between.
The Fleur-de-Lis carries the paradox of our state: pain and pride intertwined. A brand meant to humiliate became a mark of endurance. That’s what faith is, too. The same Bible that was once used to chain our ancestors also taught them how to sing through the night. What was used to oppress was also the tool of deliverance, because truth, when revealed by the Spirit, can’t be contained by corruption.
I don’t worship doctrine; I follow the God who wrote beyond it. I don’t run from the fracture; I study it, discern it, and find what pulse of grace still beats beneath the damage. God has a way of letting us redeem what once was used to destroy us.
We inherit symbols, scriptures, and systems, but it’s up to us to determine whether we’ll use them as chains or as mirrors. The work of the believer isn’t to burn what’s broken but to reveal what’s sacred within it.
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