Outrage, Kenotic Activism, and the Christian Witness

What does it mean for Christians to be active in the world? We live in an age when activism is often measured by outrage, protest, or partisan allegiance. Yet for the Catholic, the deeper question is not whether to act, but how to act - what shape our witness should take in light of the Gospel.

The Church does not call us to retreat from politics or civic life. “As far as possible citizens should take an active part in public life” (CCC 1915). Righteous indignation itself is not foreign to Scripture: Christ drove the moneychangers from the Temple (John 2:15). But when outrage is applied selectively, or when political identity overshadows Christian identity, we risk scandal. The Gospel’s consistency is compromised when indignation depends more on party lines than on the Cross.

At the center of our faith is a different kind of activism - one that looks less like domination and more like self-emptying love. St. Paul describes it as kenosis: “Though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but he emptied himself… becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Phil 2:6–8). To be Christian is to enter this mystery: God’s Kingdom is not of this world (John 18:36), the last will be first and the first will be last (Matt 20:16).

What Christians Must Reject

Because every person is made in the image of God (Gen 1:27; CCC 1700), certain realities must always be abhorrent to us:

• Murder, violence and war: The Fifth Commandment forbids intentional killing (CCC 2268), and the Church “insistently urges” all to work and pray for freedom from the scourge of war (CCC 2307). Any violent actions that violate bodily integrity, including terrorism or “torture which physical or moral violence to extract confessions, punish the guilty, frighten opponents, or satisfy hatred” (CCC 2297).
• The death penalty: The Catechism now states it is “inadmissible” (CCC 2267). This teaching represents a development, deepening the Church’s constant defense of human dignity (Evangelium Vitae, 56).
• Abortion: Life from conception must be “respected and protected absolutely” (CCC 2270). This respect extends not only to the unborn child, but also to the mother, whose dignity and difficult circumstances which may tempt toward abortion must be met with compassion, support, and concrete care.
• Indifference to the poor: God blesses those who come to the aid of the poor and rebukes those who turn away (CCC 2443). To neglect the poor is to ignore Christ Himself (Matt 25:45).
• Mistreating the migrant: Christ identifies Himself with the sojourner (Matt 25:35); prosperous nations are obliged to welcome those in need (CCC 2241).
• Persecution of religion: Religious freedom is a fundamental right given to all people of every faith (CCC 2106; Dignitatis Humanae). To defend Christianity while disregarding the freedom of others is to betray the Gospel’s universality.

These are not partisan talking points but expressions of a consistent ethic of life. To embrace some while ignoring others is to betray the Gospel’s integrity and risk scandal.

The Paradox of Kenotic Activism

If we stop at what we reject, activism becomes only opposition. But the Gospel calls us further. True Catholic activism is defined by mercy. Christ Himself tells us the criteria of judgment: “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me…” (Matt 25:35).

The Corporal Works of Mercy - feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and imprisoned - are the real shape of Catholic action. They must also be sustained by prayer. Without prayer, our activism risks becoming philanthropy rather than participation in God’s work. “Pray without ceasing” (1 Thess 5:17) is not an ornament but the foundation.

And anger itself must be purified in this same light. Catholic tradition makes a distinction:

• Sinful wrath (ira): a disordered passion driven by vengeance, pride, or hatred.
• Righteous indignation (ira virtuosa): a moderate and just anger at injustice, animated by love. St. Thomas Aquinas teaches that never being moved to indignation at injustice can itself be a defect in virtue. Pope Francis echoes this: not feeling indignation at the oppression of the weak would mean one is “not human, much less a Christian.”

The question is not whether we should ever be angry, but whether our anger is ordered to justice, tempered by mercy, and joined to prayer.

St. John Chrysostom warns us that though boldness may sometimes be necessary, it loses its witness when consumed by wrath: “if we do it with wrath … boldness becomes passion.” His counsel is that truth must be spoken clean from wrath, so that no one mistakes our cause for mere passion rather than justice.

Sober-mindedness, then, is not weakness but self-mastery: the discipline to respond to injustice without letting outrage define us. In practice, that means pausing before reacting, praying before acting, and ensuring our words and deeds flow from charity rather than agitation.

Witnesses of Kenotic Activism

The saints show us what this looks like in flesh and blood. Their activism was not outrage, but radical self-offering.

St. Maximilian Kolbe (1894–1941)
A Polish Franciscan arrested by the Nazis and imprisoned at Auschwitz, Kolbe volunteered to die in place of another prisoner. In the starvation bunker he led prayers and hymns until his death. His defiance of fascism was not a speech but the total gift of his life: “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13).

St. Paul Miki (1562–1597)
A Japanese Jesuit seminarian crucified with 25 companions in Nagasaki, Paul Miki preached forgiveness from his cross: “Ask Christ to help you become happy. I obey Christ. After Christ’s example, I forgive my persecutors. I do not hate them.” His words echo Christ’s own: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34).

Bl. Ukon Takayama (1552–1615)
A daimyo and samurai of great power, Ukon refused to renounce his faith. He lost lands, status, and influence, and was exiled to Manila where he died in poverty. His witness was not in wielding authority but in relinquishing it. He embodies the paradox: “The last will be first, and the first last” (Matt 20:16).

It would be easy to dismiss Ukon’s example as relevant only to life under a hostile, non-Christian government. But his kenosis speaks just as clearly to Christians in a culture that names itself “Christian.” The temptation there is not persecution but complacency: to believe worldly power already serves the Gospel, or worse, that domination in Christ’s name is the Gospel. Ukon shows another way. His refusal to grasp at power reminds us that even in a so-called Christian nation, the witness of the Gospel is not secured by authority, but by self-emptying love.

We might also think of more contemporary witnesses - priests serving in war zones, Catholic workers among the poor, lay people who bear quiet but costly witness in secular spaces. We might recall Pope Francis (1936–2025), who made the washing of prisoners’ and migrants’ feet on Holy Thursday a hallmark of his pontificate, showing that Christian authority is exercised in service and humility. Their kenosis, too, evangelizes by love rather than domination.

Each of these witnesses confounds worldly activism. Their strength was kenosis - self-emptying love - and their witness was not hidden. Kolbe’s sacrifice stirred fellow prisoners. Miki’s prayer has echoed through centuries. Ukon’s exile bore fruit among those who welcomed him. Their kenosis evangelized, where domination would only have scandalized.

The Kingdom Not of This World

Jesus told Pilate plainly: “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36). Catholic social teaching takes this seriously. It does not align neatly with any political system. It rejects fascism and communism, critiques capitalism while not wholly rejecting it, and insists always on the dignity of the person and the priority of the common good (Centesimus Annus, Caritas in Veritate).

This dignity includes religious freedom - not merely for Christians, but for all people of every faith. The Church teaches both the right of conscience and the right to practice one’s faith (Dignitatis Humanae). To defend Christianity while disregarding the freedom of others is to betray the Gospel’s universality.

Catholics may and should engage in politics, but never as though the Kingdom could be ushered in by worldly means. The Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church notes that the mission of the Church “does not forbid participation in public life; it merely cautions against equating worldly power with divine authority” (pp. 189–190). Legitimate advocacy for justice - for the poor, the unborn, the oppressed - is part of our vocation. But when Christians confuse partisan politics with the Gospel, the result is scandal. Selective outrage fractures our witness. Worse still, domination disguised as evangelization repels the unbeliever. And even worse, being so engulfed in partisan ideology that the merciful disposition we are called to have becomes an attribute that angers us.

St. Peter gives us the better way: “Always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect” (1 Peter 3:15–16). Kenotic witness evangelizes; coercive activism scandalizes.

Conclusion: The Kenotic Call

Christian activism cannot be reduced to outrage or to party lines. It is something stranger and more demanding: the call to self-emptying love, to bear witness in weakness, to serve the poor and the stranger, to endure persecution, to forgive enemies, and to embrace the paradox of the Cross.

Politics has its place, and righteous indignation may at times be fitting. But the weight of Christian witness is found in kenosis, in prayer, in the mercy of works of love, and in the saints who show us what it means to lay everything down for Christ.

The Kingdom is not of this world. And yet, through self-emptying love, it is renewing it.

And I should add: this post is more than anything a reminder to myself. I too get caught up in the cultural currents, pulled toward outrage and partisanship (or more accurately, anti-partisanship). My hope is to lean more deeply on prayer, to participate in the outreaches of the Church, and to embrace the sober self-mastery of Ignatian spirituality. These are the practices that, when I commit to them, I feel them wrestling me back into the way of Christ - self-emptying love.

Practical Next Steps

If we want to begin living this kenotic activism more fully, we might:

• Pray daily for the poor, the persecuted, and those we struggle to love.
• Volunteer at a local shelter, clinic, or parish outreach.
• Welcome the immigrant or refugee in concrete ways.
• Enter dialogue with those who disagree with us, not to win but to witness.
• Offer up our own suffering for the good of others.

These small but real acts allow Christ’s self-emptying love to take shape in us, and through us, in the world.