The Economy of Refusal

You cannot resist alone.

This is the first and most important thing to understand about the principalities. They are structures, and structures can only be resisted by structures. An individual who refuses — who declines the ritual, who will not confess, who maintains the inner room against all pressure — will simply be destroyed. Fired, deplatformed, unpersoned. And then the principality continues, having lost nothing.

The martyrs of the early church were not solitary heroes. They were members of communities that honored their sacrifice, preserved their memory, cared for their families, and continued the work after they were gone. The martyr could refuse the pinch of incense because the church would catch what the martyr left behind.

Without the community, martyrdom is just suicide. With the community, it is witness.

This is why the principalities fear the church — not the church as a set of beliefs, which can be tolerated or even absorbed, but the church as an alternative structure. A community with its own economy, its own social bonds, its own way of catching those who fall or are pushed. A place to stand that is not the principality’s ground.

The essay on the principalities and powers diagnosed the disease: we wrestle not against flesh and blood but against structural evil, against systems that form souls and persist regardless of who occupies their positions. The armor of God described the practice of counter-formation: truth, righteousness, peace, faith, salvation, the word of God.

But armor is defensive. It protects the individual soul. It does not, by itself, challenge the principality’s dominion.

What challenges the principality is the church as counter-economy — the material basis that makes refusal possible.

II. The Witness of Acts

All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need.

— Acts 2:44-45

There were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned land or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to anyone who had need.

— Acts 4:34-35

This is usually read as primitive communism — an early experiment that the church quickly outgrew as it became more realistic about human nature. Or it is spiritualized into a metaphor for generosity, for tithing, for charitable giving within basically capitalist assumptions.

Both readings miss the point.

The early church was building infrastructure for resistance.

Consider: you are a craftsman in first-century Judea. Your livelihood depends on participation in the guild, in the market, in the network of patrons and clients that structures economic life. The guild has its rituals. The market has its customs. The patrons have their expectations. To participate is to be formed by these structures, to be captured by their logic.

Now the moment comes. The ritual is demanded. The confession is required. The pinch of incense that acknowledges Caesar as Lord.

If you refuse alone, you lose everything. Your place in the guild. Your access to the market. Your patron’s protection. You become nothing — unable to work, unable to eat, unable to provide for your family. The principality’s economic power makes resistance impossible.

But if you belong to a community that has “everything in common” — if your brothers and sisters will feed your family when you cannot, will employ you when the guild expels you, will shelter you when your patron casts you out — then refusal becomes possible. The cost is still high. But it is not total. The community catches you.

There were no needy persons among them.

This is not utopian aspiration. This is strategic necessity. The alternative economy exists so that refusal is not suicide. The common purse is the material basis of martyrdom.

III. The Pauline Collection

Paul’s letters are full of references to “the collection” — money gathered from Gentile churches for the poor in Jerusalem:

Now about the collection for the Lord’s people: Do what I told the Galatian churches to do. On the first day of every week, each one of you should set aside a sum of money in keeping with your income.

— 1 Corinthians 16:1-2

For Macedonia and Achaia were pleased to make a contribution for the poor among the Lord’s people in Jerusalem.

— Romans 15:26

At the present time your plenty will supply what they need, so that in turn their plenty will supply what you need. The goal is equality.

— 2 Corinthians 8:14

This was not charity in the modern sense — individual generosity to strangers. This was mutual aid within a network. The churches were linked economically as well as spiritually. Wealth flowed across the empire through alternative channels, from those who had to those who needed.

This is a counter-economy.

Rome had its economy — patron-client networks, guild structures, markets integrated by roads and laws and the imperial peace. The church had its own economy within that economy — a parallel system of obligation and support that did not depend on the principality’s structures.

A Christian merchant in Corinth was embedded in two economies simultaneously. He participated in the Roman economy to earn his living. He participated in the church economy to support his brothers and sisters, and to be supported by them when his turn came.

When the moment of refusal came — when the guild demanded the sacrifice, when the patron required the confession — the Christian could exit the Roman economy because the church economy would catch him.

Without the collection, the Jerusalem church would have been destitute. Without the network, refusal would have meant starvation. The alternative economy made the alternative community possible.

IV. Why the Principalities Tolerated Belief but Not Structure

Rome did not systematically persecute Christians for their beliefs.

Rome had many religions, many gods, many philosophies. Believe what you want. Rome is tolerant.

Rome persecuted Christians for their refusals. The refusal to sacrifice to the emperor. The refusal to participate in civic religion. The refusal to acknowledge, even ritually, that Caesar was Lord.

But behind the ritual refusal was a structural threat: the church as alternative society.

The Christians had their own economy. Their own social services — caring for widows, orphans, the sick. Their own courts — Paul instructs the Corinthians to settle disputes among themselves rather than going to Roman courts (1 Corinthians 6:1-8). Their own leadership structures, their own calendar, their own meals, their own initiation rites.

This is what the principality could not tolerate. Not the beliefs, which were merely strange. The structure, which was a rival.

A believer is harmless. A community with its own economy is a threat.

The persecutions always intensified when the church became visible as a structure — when it became clear that this was not just a philosophy but a polis, a city within the city, an alternative society that did not need the principality’s approval to function.

V. The Therapeutic Moment of Refusal

When does the modern worker face the pinch of incense?

It is not dramatic. It is not a choice between Christ and Caesar in a colosseum. It is quieter, bureaucratic, mediated through HR and compliance systems.

The confession is demanded.

You are called to the training. You are asked to affirm values and statements you do not believe. You are asked to participate in rituals of confession and consciousness-raising.

You can comply. Most do. The career continues. The mortgage gets paid.

But the compliance forms. The ritual works on the soul. The self that confesses, even ironically, becomes a confessing self. The principality has its foothold.

If you refuse — quietly, politely, but firmly — what happens?

First: social death. The sideways looks. The whispered concerns. The sense that you are not a team player, not committed to the values, not safe.

Then: professional death. The promotion that doesn’t come. The project you’re removed from. The performance review that notes your “resistance to growth.” Eventually, the termination for “fit” issues.

You are not fired for heresy. You are fired for friction. The system does not call you a heretic; it calls you a poor cultural fit. The result is the same.

Now: can your church catch you?

Can your community cover your mortgage while you find new work? Can your brothers and sisters in the alternative economy provide employment, or leads, or support? Is there a network that exists outside the principality’s channels?

If yes, refusal is possible. Costly, but possible.

If no, refusal is suicide. And most people, rationally, will not commit suicide. They will comply, and the compliance will form them.

The alternative economy is what makes resistance possible.

VI. The Platform Moment of Refusal

The platform system has its own moments of demanded compliance.

The terms of service change.

You have built your business on the platform. Your customers find you there. Your livelihood depends on access. Then the platform changes its rules. You must affirm certain policies. You must not say certain things. You must participate in certain programs.

The choice: comply and continue, or refuse and lose everything you’ve built.

This is not hypothetical. Vendors have been removed from Amazon for policy violations. Creators have been demonetized on YouTube for content decisions. Businesses have been cut off from payment processors for political reasons. The platform is the new guild, and the guild has its rituals.

Or: you are deplatformed.

Not for anything you did on the platform. For something you said elsewhere. For an opinion, an association, a failure to confess. The platform decides you are unfit, and suddenly you cannot reach your customers, cannot process payments, cannot exist economically.

This is exile in the modern sense. Not physical banishment — you can stay in your house. But economic banishment. You are cut off from the infrastructure of commerce.

Now: can your church catch you?

Is there an alternative network through which you can reach customers? An alternative payment processor that will work with the exiled? A community of businesses that operate partially outside the platform’s dominion?

If yes, deplatforming is survivable. You lose the platform’s scale but retain the ability to function.

If no, deplatforming is destruction. And the threat of destruction produces compliance.

VII. Concrete Scenarios

Let us be specific about when the church’s alternative economy is needed:

The healthcare worker who will not participate in procedures she believes are wrong. Abortion, euthanasia, certain experimental protocols. She can refuse, but refusal means termination. Medical careers are not easily portable; the credential systems are controlled by institutions aligned with the principality. Can the church employ her? Support her while she retrains? Connect her to alternative healthcare networks that share her convictions?

The teacher who will not teach the curriculum. The state requires certain content. The school enforces it. She can refuse, but refusal means the end of her career in public education. Can the church absorb her into its own educational structures? Do Christian schools exist that will employ her? Can the community support her while she transitions?

The corporate employee who will not sign the statement. The company requires affirmation of values he does not share. He can refuse, but refusal means termination, and his skills are specialized for this industry. Can the church connect him to employers who will not require the confession? Can the community support his family during the search? Is there a network of businesses that operate by different rules?

The small business owner who is deplatformed. Her business depended on social media marketing, e-commerce platforms, standard payment processing. She posted something — or was accused of something — and now she is cut off. Can the church provide alternative channels? A network of Christian businesses that will patronize her? Payment systems outside the mainstream?

The professional who is doxxed and mobbed. Not fired by his employer, but made unemployable by the mob. His name is ruined. No company will hire him for fear of association. Can the church employ him directly? Support him while he rebuilds under a lower profile? Provide the social network that the mob destroyed?

In each case, the question is the same: is there an alternative economy that can catch him when the principality’s economy expels him?

If yes, resistance is possible. If no, compliance is compelled — not by argument but by necessity.

VIII. What the Modern Church Lacks

The early church had the alternative economy. The modern church, largely, does not.

We have charitable giving — donations to professionals who manage nonprofits. This is not mutual aid. It is outsourced compassion. The giver and receiver do not know each other. There is no network of obligation. There is no community that catches.

We have Sunday attendance — an hour a week of shared space. This is not common life. It is not “everything in common.” It is religious consumption, a service attended, and then everyone returns to their atomized lives embedded in the principality’s economy.

We have small groups — Bible studies, prayer meetings, fellowship gatherings. These are good, but they are not economic structures. They do not create the material basis for refusal.

What we lack:

Common funds for mutual aid. Not charity for distant strangers but pooled resources for members of the community. Money that is available when a brother loses his job for refusing the confession. Funds that can cover a mortgage, bridge a gap, support a transition.

Employment networks. Businesses owned by Christians who will hire Christians expelled from the principality’s structures. Not discrimination against others, but affirmative support for those who have paid the cost of refusal. A shadow economy of enterprises that do not require the confession.

Alternative professional structures. Christian schools that employ teachers expelled from public education. Christian healthcare networks that employ doctors and nurses who refuse complicity. Christian legal and financial services that operate by different rules.

Housing and land. Physical places that are owned by the community, not subject to the principality’s real estate markets. Places where the expelled can live while they rebuild. The church in Acts sold property to fund the common purse; the modern church should consider buying property to provide the material basis of community.

Skills and training. The ability to create livelihoods that do not depend on the principality’s credentials. Trades, crafts, direct services. The tentmaker model — skills that are portable, that do not require institutional approval, that can function outside the official economy.

None of this exists at scale in the modern church. We have atomized believers, integrated into the principality’s economy, with no alternative structure to catch them if they fall or are pushed.

And so compliance is rational. And compliance forms. And the church is captured, not by argument but by economic necessity.

IX. Building the Counter-Economy

How would a church begin to build the alternative economy?

Start with the benevolence fund, but transform its purpose.

Most churches have some fund for helping members in need. Transform this from charity into mutual aid. The purpose is not to help the unfortunate; the purpose is to create the infrastructure of refusal. The fund exists so that members can say no when the moment comes.

This requires larger funds than most churches maintain. It requires clarity about purpose. It requires the expectation that members will face moments of refusal and will need to be caught.

Map the economic resources of the congregation.

Who owns businesses? Who makes hiring decisions? Who has skills that can be taught? Who has property that could be shared? The congregation is a network of economic assets that are currently integrated into the principality’s economy. Begin to map them as potential resources for an alternative economy.

Create explicit commitments.

Business owners commit to providing employment or contracts to members expelled from the principality’s economy. Professionals commit to providing services at reduced rates to those in transition. Property owners commit to providing housing if needed. These commitments should be explicit, known, and counted on.

Build skills that don’t require credentials.

The principality controls access to most professions through credentialing. A doctor expelled from hospital systems cannot easily practice. A lawyer expelled from the bar cannot practice at all. But trades, crafts, and direct services are more portable. A church that trains its members in skills outside the credentialing system creates human capital that the principality cannot easily destroy.

Network across congregations.

No single congregation can build a complete alternative economy. But congregations can network — sharing resources, employment opportunities, housing, skills. The Pauline collection was inter-congregational; the modern equivalent would be networks of churches that pool resources for mutual aid across geographic boundaries.

Consider common ownership.

The early church sold property and held proceeds in common. The modern church might consider buying property and holding it in common — land, housing, commercial space. Assets owned by the community, not by individuals embedded in the principality’s economy, provide a material basis that cannot be easily attacked.

X. The Objections

“This sounds like socialism.”

It is not socialism. Socialism is state ownership of the means of production, enforced by the principality’s power. This is voluntary mutual aid within a community of shared conviction. The state does not compel participation; the community does not coerce contribution. It is closer to a large extended family than to a political economy.

The early church was not socialist. It was a community that shared because it loved its members and needed to survive. We are talking about the same thing.

“This sounds like separatism.”

It is not separatism in the sense of total withdrawal. Members of the alternative economy still work in the principality’s economy when they can, still use its infrastructure, still participate in its markets. The alternative economy is a supplement, not a replacement — a safety net that makes refusal possible, not a complete exit from the world.

Jesus prayed that his followers would not be taken out of the world but kept from the evil one (John 17:15). The alternative economy exists within the world, not as escape from it.

“This is unrealistic for modern life.”

It is difficult. It is not unrealistic. Communities do this now — immigrant communities, religious minorities, tight-knit ethnic groups. They maintain networks of mutual aid, preferential employment, shared resources. They catch their members when they fall. It is not impossible; it is just not what comfortable, atomized, middle-class Christians have chosen to build.

The question is not whether it is realistic but whether we want it enough to build it.

“My church is too small for this.”

Then network with other churches. The Pauline collection linked small, scattered congregations into a larger economy of mutual aid. Size is not the barrier; will is the barrier.

XI. The Function of the Church

We began with the principalities and powers. We diagnosed the structural nature of the enemy. We described the armor of God — the practices of counter-formation that protect the individual soul.

But the armor is defensive. It does not, by itself, create the capacity for resistance.

The church is the capacity for resistance.

Not the church as institution — as hierarchy, denomination, or religious corporation. These are often captured by the principality, operating by its logic, serving its purposes.

The church as community. The church as alternative economy. The church as mutual aid society, employment network, safety net, place to stand. The church as the material basis that makes refusal possible.

This is the function of the church in the war against principalities: to create the infrastructure of refusal.

The individual cannot resist alone. The martyr without a community is just a suicide. The refuser without a safety net is just unemployed.

But the community that has everything in common — that shares resources, provides employment, catches those who fall — makes resistance possible. The individual can refuse because the community will catch them. The community endures because the individuals are formed by counter-practices and oriented to a different Lord.

The principality fears this. It does not fear beliefs, which can be privatized and domesticated. It fears structures, which rival its own.

The therapeutic system can handle Christians who keep their faith private and comply with the rituals. It cannot handle a community that provides alternative employment to those who refuse.

The platform system can handle users who grumble but participate. It cannot handle a network of businesses that can function without its infrastructure.

The alternative economy is the sword that matches the shield. The armor protects the soul; the economy enables the resistance.

XII. The Call

We wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world.

The wrestling is real. The principalities are strong. The systems are vast.

But the early church faced Rome — the greatest principality the world had known — and outlasted it. Not by seizing power. Not by reform. By building an alternative.

They had everything in common. There were no needy persons among them. They caught each other when they fell.

We have forgotten how to do this. We have atomized, integrated, accommodated. We have privatized faith and outsourced charity and called it maturity.

It is time to remember.

Build the alternative economy. Pool resources. Create employment networks. Establish funds that exist for refusal. Train skills that the principality does not credential. Buy property that the community holds. Network across congregations.

Make resistance possible by making refusal survivable.

The moment will come — for you, for your children, for your brothers and sisters. The confession will be demanded. The ritual will be required. The pinch of incense will be offered.

In that moment, everything depends on one question: can the church catch you?

If yes, you can refuse. You can keep the inner room. You can maintain allegiance to a different Lord.

If no, compliance is compelled. Not by argument but by hunger. Not by conviction but by necessity.

Build the church that catches.

That is the function. That is the calling. That is how the principalities are resisted — not by individuals in heroic solitude, but by communities with the material basis to say no together.

There were no needy persons among them.

This was not utopia. This was strategy.

The alternative economy made the alternative community possible.

And the alternative community outlasted the empire.

Go and do likewise.