In 312 AD, Constantine saw a vision before the Battle of Milvian Bridge. "In this sign, conquer," the heavens supposedly told him. He did. Christianity went from persecuted minority to state religion in a single generation.
The church has been trying to make sense of that moment ever since.
The Bargain
Here's what Constantine offered: protection, legitimacy, power, wealth, cultural dominance. Here's what it cost: the way of the cross.
Not immediately, of course. The transition was gradual. But once the church became the official religion of the Roman Empire, once bishops sat in palaces and wore purple, once Christian emperors commanded armies and executed heretics—something fundamental changed.
"My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight." - John 18:36
But Constantine's servants did fight. In Christ's name, they conquered. They built an empire. They ruled the world.
Sound familiar? It should. It's exactly what Satan offered Christ in the third temptation: "All the kingdoms of the world and their glory—I will give to you if you will bow down and worship me."
Christ said no. Constantine said yes.
The Pattern Repeats
I grew up in Costa Rica, son of Mennonite missionaries. The Mennonites remember what it was like when the church had the sword. They were the ones the sword was used on—drowning Anabaptists for refusing infant baptism, burning them for questioning whether Christians should kill in Christ's name.
The Radical Reformation tried to break free from Constantine's shadow. Some succeeded for a time. But the temptation is always there: use political power to advance God's kingdom, to protect Christian values, to make the nation godly by force if necessary.
Today I watch American evangelicals chase the same dragon Constantine rode. They want Christian nationalism, prayer in schools enforced by law, religious displays in government buildings, political power to impose biblical values on society.
They think they're reclaiming America for God. They don't realize they're still living under Constantine's shadow, still chasing kingdoms that aren't of this world by using tools that very much are.
The Way Forward is Backward
The early church conquered Rome without an army. They did it through radical love, sacrificial service, refusal to kill even in self-defense, economic sharing that eliminated poverty in their communities, and a steadfast commitment to the way of the cross even when it led to their own crosses.
Then Constantine offered them the sword, and they've been trying to conquer with it ever since.
What if we finally said no? What if we stepped out of Constantine's shadow and back into the light of Christ's way—the way of self-giving love, of powerlessness as power, of dying to bring life?
What if we stopped trying to run the kingdoms of this world and started living as citizens of a kingdom not of this world?
It's been seventeen centuries. Maybe it's time to decline Constantine's offer and finally follow Christ.