Every religious movement and “camp” is built around a desirable ideal. However, when this core value becomes an end in itself and love—the hallmark of the Christian faith—is pushed into the background, tensions turn into open conflicts.
When faced with religious content in the form of an article, video, or social media post, we must not lose sight of the fact that the material is intended to convey a message based on ideological premises—that is, basic principles that are assumed to be true and not debated, but simply worked with.
I have emphasised the importance of understanding the philosophical origins of ideas in the media. This article illustrates the limits of these origins.
However, ideological messages do not come with a label. They are not presented to us as ideologies, but insinuate themselves by appealing to our convictions. When we discover the “why” behind the message, we also discover the ideology that underpins it. This is why it is important to learn to recognise them in real time, as this is where we encounter them most often: in the conversations around us, or even in our own reactions.
Love for stability
Conservative ideology arises as a response to the relativisation of values, the excessive pace of change in models, and the erosion of the moral principles that once gave life a sense of meaning. Moral conservatives often experience a kind of anxiety similar to that of parents seeking to shield their children from the dangers and mistakes they themselves have encountered. They want order. They want to preserve human dignity, respect for life, family, and personal well-being. However, if they turn their morality into a shield, they risk underestimating the power of healing grace.
Compassion for the forgotten
Progressive ideology arises as a response to inequality in society, the marginalisation of certain social groups, and suffering that goes unnoticed all too easily. Progressives fear that the world is becoming an increasingly cold place where power, prestige, and wealth matter more than people themselves. This is why they long for justice to be restored on earth. They want to provide food for the hungry, shelter for refugees, and dignity for those who have no one. However, there is a risk that this desire to heal the world could become a messiah complex—an exclusively horizontal faith that loses sight of the sanctifying power of a living relationship with God.
Hope in the God who lifts up
Many followers of prosperity theology come from backgrounds of deprivation and suffering, and this is often the first time they have heard that they are not destined to be unhappy. Sermons about “blessing,” “favour,” or “miracles” give them the courage to dream again.
The appeal of this theology stems from a deeply human need: the need to believe that life can be better. Perhaps the beauty of this theology lies precisely in its ability to restore dignity to those who have felt invisible. Those who embrace this message are not necessarily seeking luxury, but proof that God has not forgotten them. However, if blessings are understood only in material terms, faith becomes a transaction and grace becomes an empty concept.
Vigilance that never sleeps
Followers of apocalypticism have an acute preoccupation with meta-reality. They do not want to be caught unprepared by the Lord’s return; they do not want to be deceived by appearances. Vigilance is an act of faith: a refusal to rest on the comforts of modernity and a rebellion against superficiality. However, their vigilance is often mistaken for fear, their discernment for generalised suspicion, and their watchfulness is replaced by panic fuelled by news that is more or less true, but always interpreted in an eschatological way.
Thirst for authenticity
Sectarians retreat into small communities, convinced that the truth is preserved there in its purest form. They long for a pure, living faith, uncontaminated by the meaningless concerns of popular culture.
As adherents of confessional isolationism, they identify compromise within religious institutions and indignantly fight to live according to their own convictions. However, when their desire for purity isolates them completely, their spiritual truth diminishes, because truth is nourished by dialogue, not withdrawal. Unfortunately, sectarians cultivate a definition of love that does not include dialogue, nor does it embrace the imperfection of disagreement. The moral purity they seek becomes pure loneliness.
Desire to make good visible
Religion that has become politicised is another ideology with a strong presence in religious communication. Those who believe that “God must be present in politics” see a corrupt world and convince themselves that we need people of faith in power. They are right. However, problems inevitably arise when faith becomes a battleground for ideological domination. If politicised religion could overcome its contempt, or even hatred, for “those who believe differently,” we could have a civic theology. Historically, however, all attempts at such a construct have ended in militant ideology.
Each of these forms of faith responds to at least one legitimate human need, arising from the manifestation of faith in a rapidly changing world. Each ideology militates for an ideal. But precisely because they are initiated with good intentions, it is difficult to realise when they go off track and readjust. One effective way to do this is to follow the logical or emotional thread of the message in order to discover its fundamental principles and absolutes.
How can ideological extremes be identified?
If the emphasis is exclusively on “personal sin,” completely ignoring social justice, the underlying ideology is probably conservatism. We can easily recognise its extremes in materials that focus on sexuality, purity, family, and discipline, talking a lot about order but not at all about mercy or the restoration or healing of those who have fallen. Reading such material will most likely induce a sense of guilt or uncleanness, but you will not be inspired to do good; at most, you will be motivated to act out of fear.
Conversely, if the message constantly talks about injustice, poverty, inequality, or the rights of the marginalised, but glosses over the topic of personal responsibility and individual morality, this is a sign of the limitations of theological progressivism. You will recognise this in materials that emphasise social reform and activism, but avoid topics related to sin, conversion, or holiness, and that talk about universal love, but not inner transformation, using psychological or social language rather than spiritual language. After reading such a message, you will most likely feel more indignation towards the world than a desire for personal change.
If it frequently mentions money, “divine favour” or “divine grace”, success, abundance or the idea that faith will bring material prosperity, then it is prosperity theology. You will find it in resources that link faith to performance and well-being (“if you believe enough, God will give you everything you ask for”), present donations as “seeds” for prosperity, and reduce the relationship with God to a cause-and-effect formula. After receiving such a message, you will feel as though you must “do something” to deserve the blessing rather than accepting it out of love.
If the message focuses almost exclusively on conspiracies, suspicious technologies, chips, the mark of the beast, or hidden plans of the “world order,” then it is political apocalypticism. You will recognise it in materials that mix biblical prophecies with alarmist news or conspiracy theories, talk more about fear and control than faith and hope, and turn every global event into proof that “the end is near.” A practical way to identify conspiracy narratives is that, after being exposed to them, you will feel panic, suspicion and distrust, rather than peace and clarity.
If the message insists that “only we have the truth,” “only our group is pure,” and that everyone else is “lost” or “apostate,” it is sectarianism. You will recognise it in messages that refuse to engage in dialogue with other denominations or perspectives, and that present differences of opinion as evidence of corruption. Expressions such as “the true church,” “true worship,” or “only we truly follow Scripture” frequently feature in such discourse. In a message that feeds on denominational isolationism, you sense spiritual pride and/or a fear of others, rather than humility and love.
It is worth noting that none of these orientations are limited to the doctrinal dimension; they also propose distinct views of the world, authority, and the relationship between faith and society. This is precisely why they can also be analysed as ideologies. This list is, of course, incomplete because there are many other currents in the religious environment, even if not all of them are as vocal as those already mentioned (see fundamentalism, ecumenism, mysticism, and post-evangelicalism).
Furthermore, in the practical life of faith communities, the characteristic elements of these currents often intertwine, transcending their theoretical boundaries. However, the broad outlines remain, helping us to see that some currents will be more prevalent in certain regions of the world than in others. Prosperity theology, for example, is much more prevalent in the U.S. than in Europe. In Europe, confessional isolationism is more common. In Christian Orthodox circles, conservatism is dominant. However, in the online environment, geographical boundaries are much more blurred.
Propaganda breeding grounds
A separate chapter should be reserved for messages with chameleon-like ideologies. On social media, a growing and increasingly visible trend has emerged: groups or individuals with hidden political agendas create pages that appear to be strictly religious at first glance. They choose gentle, trustworthy names such as “Orthodoxy Today,” “Faith and Nation,” and “Light of Truth” and present themselves as spaces for spiritual reflection.
In the first few months, their content is limited to inspirational quotes, prayers, icons, and texts about fasting, humility, and love for one’s neighbour. The account grows, becoming a digital oasis for those who want a return to simplicity and faith. Then, almost imperceptibly, the tone changes. Alongside the prayers, texts about “traitors to the nation,” “true patriots,” and “those who want to destroy Christian values” begin to be posted. The language becomes more defensive and tense, and the line between faith and propaganda dissolves.
Unlike overt ideologies, which emphasise an absolute value such as purity, justice, or prosperity, chameleon ideology operates through controlled ambiguity. It says just enough to create an emotional consensus without declaring its true intentions. This ideology adopts a prophetic tone to lend legitimacy to partisan opinions and transforms religious emotion into a tool for collective manipulation. For the uninformed reader, the line between faith and propaganda becomes almost indistinguishable.
A double antidote to the instrumentalisation of religion
Religion has always been one of the most powerful forces for mobilising the masses, capable of giving collective meaning to individual actions. This is precisely why the consequences can be serious when religion is used for political purposes. In such contexts, people believe they are defending their faith when they are actually becoming part of an influence strategy that uses religion as a smokescreen for a power play.
Messages with mystical overtones played a particularly important role in the communication ecosystem surrounding the 2024 elections in Romania. The use of social media as a tool of influence reflects the growing vulnerability of the public to coordinated manipulation campaigns. Furthermore, the democratisation of artificial intelligence-based technologies has the potential to exacerbate this vulnerability. Against this backdrop, the need for dual literacy—both religious and media—becomes urgent.
The struggle for truly free thinking
Although the internet remains a vast source of information, accessing what is truly relevant (or simply accurate) has become an arduous task. It is a struggle that we often engage in without realising.
Why? Because when faced with any dilemma, an ideology is always at hand, ready to provide us with a language for what we feel, but not necessarily the truth. It provides the comforting illusion that our ideas are confirmed while preventing us from thinking freely. Like a mirror that reflects only my face and not the human condition as a whole, online information requires constant lucidity: the willingness to give up the satisfaction of being right and accept the uneasiness of uncertainty as a place from which learning can begin.
The knowledge and ability to recognise ideologies will not make us infallible, but it will help us to see things more clearly. Even then, we must avoid the temptation to simply acquire a richer vocabulary with which to justify our biases. Instead, we should either overcome them or openly acknowledge them and learn to live with them transparently.
Then, once we have identified the broad categories, we can consult wiser minds who have already grappled with the issues that concern us. Often, these are simply reformulations or updates of older questions. Ideally, the whole endeavour should not be just a sterile exercise in thinking, but should pursue the fertility of rational action. In other words, we should not treat debate as an end in itself, but maintain our capacity to act.
Broadening our horizons can lead to genuinely new answers that are grounded, clear, and generous enough to serve the common good. Even if we don’t succeed and don’t find those new answers, the process of understanding will make us more humble. Although it does not attract the most likes, humility cannot be lacking in the person who aspires to be a truly free thinker.
