For over a decade, I’ve sounded a call as a non-Western church leader: Christian civilization, the bedrock of democracy and human flourishing, needs defending—not just for the West, but for the world.
The West’s retreat from its Christian roots, worn down by progressive ideologies and colonial guilt, risks unravelling a legacy built on the belief that every person bears God’s image and is redeemed by Christ’s sacrifice. From Asia, Africa and beyond, I’ve watched this erosion with alarm, wondering if the West still has the voice to reclaim its heritage.
Then came the ARC (Alliance for Responsible Citizenship), led by Jordan Peterson. This movement of unapologetic thinkers stirred hope. I followed their early talks and, in February 2025, attended their London conference. Peterson’s unpacking of sacrifice as Christianity’s core thread—echoing Christ’s cross—resonated deeply.
Sessions on human dignity, family, and practical energy solutions, paired with a rejection of divisive ideologies, felt like a clarion call. Ayaan Hirsi Ali’s incisive voice and the British Conservative Party leader Kemi Badenoch, added welcome breadth.
Yet I left unsettled. ARC could easily become a white-majority echo chamber, a peril for a civilization that’s never been bound by race. The early church spread from Jerusalem to Rome and Africa, defying ethnic lines. Today, most Christians live outside the West, wrestling with secularism while building faith-rooted societies. If ARC wants global impact—think Nigeria’s vibrant churches or India’s persecuted believers—it must elevate non-Western leaders and their thought. Otherwise, it risks being dismissed as a ‘Christian right’ relic, irrelevant to the Majority World.
The conference nailed essentials: humans aren’t cosmic accidents but bear divine purpose; families anchor society; sacrifice blesses beyond self. Peterson’s riff on Abraham’s near-sacrifice of Isaac hinted at bigger questions: what does sacrifice mean not just for us, but for the outsider? Missionaries once answered that: serving the poor globally. Today, figures like Trump and Musk, eyeing corrupt aid cuts, face a test. If Trump’s push for religion in America skips James 1:27—caring for widows and orphans—it’s hollow. Who’s America’s neighbour in 2025?
But one absence loomed largest: the emphasis on local Christian communities. Scripture and history shout their power. Acts 2’s Spirit-filled bands toppled Rome’s pagan grip, compelling Constantine’s reckoning by AD 313. These weren’t institutions but living hubs—messy, authentic, transformative.
Today, ‘church’ conjures scandals—the Archbishop of Canterbury’s resignation over apparent abuse cover-ups - or slick, star-driven services. Millennials and Gen Z, even Christians, crave real connection over dogma. ‘Church plants’ often peddle belief-first cliques, not belong-first communities that Jesus modelled - “Come unto me all you who are burdened and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28-30).
This gap matters. Jesus didn’t just save ‘souls’; He built a Body ( read family) (1 Cor. 12). The West’s crisis isn’t only lost faith, it’s lost belonging. Family decay gives rise to isolation; 1 in 5 US adults report loneliness, per 2024 data, fuelling mental health woes and narcissism. ARC’s emphasis on sparking millions of small, vibrant communities—open to doubters and devotees alike—is a missed chance. Imagine a billion such groups, lifting a world mired in despair. Without such communities, can Christian civilization endure?
Peterson’s sacrifice lens could bridge this. Christ’s death wasn’t for insiders only but for all (John 3:16). Early Christians lived that, feeding the poor, burying the dead, stunning Rome. Today’s non-Western church echoes it—think Uganda’s orphan care or Brazil’s favela ministries. ARC mustn’t stop at ideas; it should seed communities where faith meets flesh. Not religious silos, but places where anyone—sceptic or saint—belongs, prays and meets Jesus.
Why the disconnect? The word ‘church’ can be a stumbling block, evoking control and institution, not communion. Yet Scripture’s ‘ekklesia’ isn’t a building but a people—called out, gathered in. My non-Western lens sees this clearly: where Western individualism reigns, community withers. ARC’s renewal can’t lean on nostalgia or policy alone. It needs a billion Acts 2 sparks—small, local, real.
For many of us this is personal. You’ve felt the ache of shallow fellowship or the sting of church hurt. You know faith thrives in relationship, not isolation. ARC could rally us, but only if it dares to reimagine community—not as a buzzword, but as Christ’s living witness. Can it rise above ‘church’ baggage and ignite a global movement of belonging? Our civilization—and our faith—hangs in the balance.
