This is the reality of shame-based righteousness, a modern phenomenon in which moralism—cloaked in the language of social justice—has replaced the liberating grace of the Gospel.
By Dr. Tim Orr
Imagine walking into a church service expecting an atmosphere of grace, love, and spiritual nourishment but instead finding a culture of hyper-vigilant morality. Here, sins are not the traditional transgressions of old but failures to align with specific ideologies or participate in public displays of activism. The tools of shame have been modernized. Instead of threats of eternal damnation, the congregation’s whispers and sideways glances act as silent enforcers of a new moral code. While the sermons may speak of inclusion and love, the underlying message remains that your value is tied to your conformity.
This is the reality of shame-based righteousness, a modern phenomenon in which moralism—cloaked in the language of social justice—has replaced the liberating grace of the Gospel. Although progressive Christianity may distance itself from the fundamentalism of the past, it replicates many of the same patterns. Fire and brimstone have been exchanged for hashtags and buzzwords, but the underlying dynamic of guilt-driven conformity persists.
Historically, fundamentalist Christianity relied heavily on fear and shame to enforce moral behavior. Hellfire sermons and strict moral codes created a culture where deviation was met with ostracism and condemnation. While these methods have largely fallen out of favor in many circles, progressive Christianity has adopted a different approach—one that is less overt but equally coercive.
Rather than focusing on individual sins like lying, stealing, or adultery, progressive Christianity shifts its attention to systemic issues such as privilege, race, gender, and climate justice. These are undeniably critical areas for Christian engagement, but the framing often creates an atmosphere of moral panic. Failure to align with the progressive moral code is not viewed as an honest difference of opinion but as complicity in systemic evil. For instance, those who question certain aspects of racial ideology—even from a place of genuine theological reflection—are often accused of perpetuating racism.
This dynamic fosters a community where moral virtue is judged not by personal transformation but by public performance. Attending protests, sharing the latest hashtags, and speaking the right jargon become the litmus tests for one’s righteousness. Ironically, this performative morality mirrors the legalism of fundamentalist Christianity, where outward appearances often overshadow inward transformation.
Jonathan Haidt (2018) provides a critical lens for understanding this phenomenon. He writes, “Moral communities bound by shared outrage are powerful, but they are also fragile. They thrive on conformity and punish dissent” (p. 127). Progressive Christianity exemplifies this fragility. Outrage over injustice becomes the glue holding the community together, but this same outrage stifles meaningful dialogue and honest self-reflection. In a culture where dissent is punished, the pursuit of truth is often sacrificed for the comfort of moral unanimity.
Performative morality, or virtue signaling, places an exhausting burden on individuals. It becomes increasingly difficult to maintain when morality is reduced to external actions like sharing the right social media post or attending the right rally. People quickly find themselves caught in an endless cycle of needing to prove their moral worth. Over time, this leads to burnout, disillusionment, and even despair.
This focus on external performance over internal transformation is not a new problem. Jesus addressed it directly in His rebukes of the Pharisees, who prioritized meticulous law-keeping while neglecting the deeper issues of mercy, justice, and faithfulness (Matthew 23:23). Progressive Christianity runs the risk of becoming a modern-day Phariseeism, where virtue is measured by how well one conforms to cultural expectations rather than by the fruit of the Spirit.
Sociologist Christian Smith (2005) calls this tendency “moralistic therapeutic deism,” a form of religiosity where God becomes little more than a cosmic cheerleader for personal and societal betterment. While this framework aims to empower individuals, it ultimately creates a shallow and fragile faith. Progressive Christianity’s reliance on virtue signaling fits into this mold, emphasizing external appearances at the expense of deeper spiritual transformation.
The fragility of shame-based righteousness becomes particularly evident in how progressive Christian communities handle disagreement. In many cases, dissenting voices are not engaged with curiosity or humility but are silenced through accusations and labels. Members who raise questions about the theological underpinnings of progressive ideologies are often dismissed as ignorant, unloving, or even oppressive.
This dynamic undermines one of progressive Christianity’s core values: inclusivity. While inclusivity is often championed in theory, in practice, it is extended only to those who align with the group’s moral framework. Those who dissent, even thoughtfully and respectfully, often find themselves excluded. This reveals a fundamental contradiction: a movement that claims to value dialogue and openness frequently falls into the same exclusionary patterns it criticizes in others.
The broader implications for the Church are profound. When Christianity becomes indistinguishable from secular activism, it loses its ability to offer a distinct and transformative message. Jesus didn’t call His followers mere activists but agents of grace and truth, reflecting His love for a broken world. A Church that prioritizes moral signaling over spiritual transformation risks forfeiting its role as a beacon of hope and redemption.
At the heart of shame-based righteousness lies an idol: the idol of moral superiority. This idol feeds on the need to feel enlightened, virtuous, and “on the right side of history.” For many progressive Christians, this manifests as a sense of pride in having a more nuanced or compassionate understanding of justice than their more-traditional counterparts.
However, this pride is a fragile foundation for faith. Moral superiority is inherently comparative—it relies on looking down on others to feel elevated. Tim Keller (2020) warns of the dangers of this mindset, writing, “If we try to achieve moral perfection through our efforts, we will either become self-righteous and look down on others, or we will despair and give up altogether” (p. 84). This dichotomy—self-righteousness or despair—is antithetical to the Gospel, which calls believers to find their righteousness in Christ rather than in their efforts.
The antidote to shame-based righteousness is a better performance and a deeper understanding of grace. The Gospel is not a message of self-righteous activism but a message of transformation. It calls sinners to repentance and invites them to receive Christ's righteousness as a gift, not as something to be earned.
Jesus’ ministry was marked by His ability to offer grace to society's shame. He reached out to tax collectors, prostitutes, and sinners, not with condemnation but with compassion. His harshest rebukes were reserved for the religious elite, who used their moral superiority to shame and control others. In the same way, the Church must resist the temptation to adopt the tools of shame and guilt, whether in their traditional or progressive forms.
True righteousness flows from a heart transformed by grace. It is not performative but deeply rooted in Christ’s love, humility, and holiness. This kind of righteousness cannot be measured by hashtags, protests, or public declarations—it is evident in the quiet, faithful lives of those who reflect Christ’s character in their relationships and communities.
Shame-based righteousness, whether in its fundamentalist or progressive form, distorts the Gospel. It shifts the focus from God’s grace to human performance, creating a culture of fear, division, and burnout. As Christians, we are called to offer something radically different: a message of hope, healing, and transformation through the love of Christ.
If the Church is to remain faithful to its calling, it must reject the idols of moral superiority and performative virtue. Instead, it must embrace the liberating power of grace, which frees believers from the exhausting burden of proving their worth and invites them into a life of true righteousness.
Haidt, J. (2018). The righteous mind: Why good people are divided by politics and religion. Vintage Books.
Keller, T. (2020). Hope in times of fear: The resurrection and the meaning of Easter. Viking.
Smith, C. (2005). Soul searching: The religious and spiritual lives of American teenagers. Oxford University Press.
The Holy Bible, New International Version (NIV). (2011). Galatians 5:22–23; Matthew 23:23.
Tim Orr is a scholar of Islam, Evangelical minister, conference speaker, and interfaith consultant with over 30 years of experience in cross-cultural ministry. He holds six degrees, including a master’s in Islamic studies from the Islamic College in London. Tim taught Religious Studies for 15 years at Indiana University Columbus and is now a Congregations and Polarization Project research associate at the Center for the Study of Religion and American Culture at Indiana University Indianapolis. He has spoken at universities, including Oxford University, Imperial College London, the University of Tehran, Islamic College London, and mosques throughout the U.K. His research focuses on American Evangelicalism, Islamic antisemitism, and Islamic feminism, and he has published widely, including articles in Islamic peer-reviewed journals and three books.