How the Oppressor-Oppressed Lens Steals the Church’s Joy

It is 2026, which means it has been a decade since I began confronting what was commonly called "wokeness"—what I prefer to call "the gospel of grievance"—within the church. Over those years, I have noticed a troubling pattern. Those who replace the hope of the gospel with an oppressor-versus-oppressed framework often seem to struggle with anger, depression, and a loss of joy.

I was recently reminded of this when Pastor Eric Mason announced that he was stepping down from Epiphany Fellowship Church because of his battle with depression.

He wrote on social media:

"This year has been the hardest year of my life! I've been on medical leave for my mental health! I'm still healing and recovering, but some changes are on the way."

In 2024, he also wrote about the depression he experienced after receiving significant pushback for his 2018 book Woke Church. Pastor Mason is not the only high-profile Christian who has publicly spoken about struggles with depression in connection with these issues.

Lecrae, the well-known Christian rapper who rose to prominence within Reformed evangelical circles, also faced criticism after becoming more vocal about social justice issues and police shootings.

In an interview with Premier Christian News, Lecrae said:

"'I did have a sense I was in a downward spiral, but you find coping mechanisms, and you find things that just pacify you. So I think probably around 2016, things started to get pretty bleak.'"

The article goes on to explain:

"Speaking about becoming an increasingly prominent voice in the fight against racism in the US following the death of George Floyd, Lecrae said his motivation to speak out comes 'from a place of personal pain, personal trauma, and then empathy as well.'"

I am not pointing this out to shame or attack these men. I have deep admiration for both and have been blessed by their ministries. I empathize with them because I have watched close friends take on the same burden and walk down the same path toward depression and a loss of joy. I am writing this because I care, and I want to warn others.

Where We Place Our Hope

I am reminded of the words of the author of Hebrews, who describes the confidence we have in what God has done and promised as "an anchor for the soul."

"Because God wanted to show his unchangeable purpose even more clearly to the heirs of the promise, he guaranteed it with an oath, so that through two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to seize the hope set before us. We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure" (Hebrews 6:17-19,CSB).

Our hope, and the anchor of our souls, is rooted in God and His promises, not in man or in the pursuit of earthly justice. The gospel of grievance shifts our eyes away from that hope and fixes them on the brokenness of the world. When we attempt to carry that burden apart from the hope of the gospel, despair becomes almost inevitable.

The Hopelessness of a Gospel of Works

A few years ago, I was corresponding with a coworker who is a white liberal woman and not a Christian. She described the emotional weight of this worldview in these words:

"As a white woman, I do my damnedest every day to be respectful, honest, and caring to every person I interact with. That's how I was raised and that's what I will continue to do until my death.

It's quite complicated to write about CRT because it's set up so that, seemingly, no matter what I do, I am either benefitting from or upholding racism/racist systems. I absolutely recognize that the US has an extremely racist past and that racism still exists. I'm also sure that, as a white woman, I have been afforded graces that I am likely ignorant of because of my skin color. I fervently wish it wasn't that way.

Under CRT, my 'humanity ledger' will always be blood red, and it's for something that I cannot change. I really struggle with that."

Whether one agrees with her assessment or not, her words reveal the emotional consequences of a worldview that offers no true redemption.

There is no lasting hope in the gospel of grievance. For those categorized as oppressors, it becomes a gospel of works: "Do the work." "Be a good ally." "Listen to Black voices." "Divest yourself of your privilege." The standard is always moving, and there is never any assurance that enough has been done.

For those categorized as oppressed, it becomes a never-ending crusade to right every wrong. Justice becomes detached from grace, and every new tragedy reinforces the sense that the mission is failing. Another police shooting. Another riot. Another study on systemic racism. Another racist comment from a public figure. Another young Black man dying under mysterious circumstances. The weight continues to accumulate.

Both the oppressor and the oppressed can become trapped in a cycle of hopelessness because the brokenness of the world never stops producing new reasons for grief.

The Gospel of True Hope

The Christian worldview offers something profoundly different. Those whose hope is anchored in God can experience genuine joy regardless of their circumstances or the condition of the world—because they know that God Himself will ultimately make all things right. Our hope does not rest in our ability to eliminate injustice or eradicate sin. It rests in Christ, who has already overcome the world and Who will one day establish perfect justice.

That confidence frees Christians to pursue justice without carrying the impossible burden of believing that the fate of the world rests on their shoulders. We labor faithfully, love our neighbors, defend the vulnerable, and seek righteousness, all while knowing that the final victory belongs to God.

Rather than being consumed by despair, we can pray with confidence and hope:

"Come, Lord Jesus."