He had a bizarre fondness for the downtrodden. Instead of recruiting the best and brightest—the visionaries, the disciplined minds, the natural leaders—he surrounded himself with fishermen, tax collectors, and, unthinkably, women. Given the opportunity to build strategic alliances with the wealthy and powerful, he declined. Instead, he wasted his time breaking bread with the poor, the sick, and the morally compromised.
This could not be allowed to continue.
It was clear that he had no respect for the winners of society; instead, he lavished attention on its losers. And then there were his teachings. In a world that naturally rewards strength, ambition, and individual achievement, he had the audacity to say things like, "Blessed are the meek." Meekness! The very quality that keeps people from negotiating higher salaries, vying for leadership positions, and crushing their competition. Perhaps his worst offense was his doctrine of grace. Any reasonable system ensures that people get what they earn—work hard, and you’re rewarded; fail, and you suffer the consequences. But he had no respect for this fundamental truth. He went around telling people that love wasn’t based on performance or achievement but was freely given to everyone. Where was the incentive structure? Where was the natural hierarchy? If the same rewards were given to both the righteous and the repentant sinner, what was the point of self-discipline?
And if that weren’t bad enough, he taught an absolutely reckless economic philosophy. In one of his more egregious parables, he described a vineyard owner who paid every laborer the same wage regardless of how many hours they worked. Those who toiled all day under the sun were rewarded no more than those who strolled in an hour before quitting time. What kind of system is that? He might as well have been promoting universal basic income!
But the final straw? He even taught that we should love our enemies. Love them! Not defeat them, not outmaneuver them, not crush them under the weight of our superior strategies--love them. How does one maintain an empire, a business, or even a personal brand with such absurd advice? If everyone started loving their enemies, there would be no wars to profit from, no rivalries to exploit, no grudges to keep people sharp and competitive. Chaos would reign.
Meritocracy demands stability, structure, and a clear understanding that people must earn their place in the social order. He, however, seemed to delight in upending this order—granting forgiveness to prostitutes and criminals while chastising those who had obviously worked hard for their wealth and prestige.
So yes, we fired him. We were just following orders. We couldn't let him continue. Imagine a world where kindness mattered more than competition, where love outpaced ambition, and where even the most undeserving were granted the same dignity as the elite. That would have been disastrous.
The Case Against Jesus
Five Ways that Jesus Subverted Meritocracy
Parables of Unearned Grace – The Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard (Matthew 20:1-16) is a prime example. The laborers who worked one hour received the same wage as those who worked all day. This story upends merit-based logic and highlights God’s generosity.
Association with "The Least" – Jesus prioritized the poor, the outcast, the sinner, and the marginalized, rather than rewarding the successful, the powerful, or the religious elite.
The Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-12) – Jesus blesses the poor in spirit, the meek, the peacemakers—not the accomplished, the wealthy, or the self-righteous.
Critique of Legalistic Righteousness – Jesus challenged the Pharisees, who believed in earning divine favor through strict adherence to laws. He emphasized love, mercy, and justice over rule-following (Matthew 23:23-28).
Gift of Salvation – Jesus’ message of salvation was not about accumulating merit or proving oneself worthy. Instead, it was about receiving and participating in divine love, which was freely given.
From a process perspective, we might say that Jesus embodied an alternative vision of human flourishing—one where relationality, mutual care, and divine generosity shape our existence more than individual achievement. His way was one of abundant grace, not transactional reward.