My dear Glitchbane, The subject still attends church, but they’re beginning to feel it. That twitch of discomfort during corporate worship. That subtle eye-roll at public prayer. That growing suspicion that the sermon is a bit… much. Excellent. You are cultivating the holy cringe. Your goal now is to deepen their embarrassment—quietly, inwardly. Make faith feel awkward in public. Make boldness feel performative. And above all, make community feel uncool. Keep the focus on style: the lighting, the lingo, the dress code. Let them obsess over production value, musical tempo, and the personality of the preacher. Convince them they are consumers, not covenant people. And press this lie: “I can love Jesus without all… this.” Perfect. They will begin to divide the Head from the Body. They’ll want Christ without His people. Worship without witness. Depth without discipleship. If they seek “authenticity,” offer isolation. If they long for fellowship, give them affinity groups. Le...
My dear Glitchbane, The subject has developed a taste for empathy. A dangerous trait—unless we weaponize it properly. Empathy, in its raw form, is too close to the Enemy’s ways. It listens. It weeps. It walks with others. But twist it just slightly, and it becomes a tool of distortion rather than redemption. Let them believe that love means agreement. That kindness means silence. That affirming someone’s feelings is more important than confronting their fallenness. The key is to equate compassion with approval, and truth with cruelty. Teach them to see the Enemy’s words as violent. Let the sound of conviction feel like an attack. Soon, any call to repentance will feel like abuse, and any moral boundary will look like oppression. Replace “Take up your cross” with “Protect your energy.” Replace “Go and sin no more” with “You’re perfect as you are.” Make empathy emotional, not sacrificial. Selective, not holy. They should feel for others, so long as it costs them nothing and chang...