Do Not Apologize for Fighting Faithfully

Much of Western civilization has lost its will to fight for its honor. This neutering is a result of the West abandoning ideals worth defending and promoting. People's affections and loyalties are compromised without eyes to see the beauty of their heritage.

The dilution and rejection of the Christian religion have been the occasion for this demise. Virtue has been outlawed in the court of both public opinion and statutory legislation. Leadership has given way to labyrinthine bureaucracy, faith to fashionable doubt. Hope has curdled into despair, love into grievance. Truth is outpaced by narrative, beauty by novelty, and goodness by unblushing vice.

The consequence of this carnage appears blunted by modernity and its ease of convenience. Coffee machines, air conditioning, next-day shipping, and high-speed internet can often be the valid thrills that make us think, “The state of things is not so bad after all”. Calloused to the compromise and unmoved by the stench of death, a perfumed ruin and rot form a new social decorum. And with time, the scent of sweetness diminishes and gives way to the foul air.

Man’s attempt to erect a world in which God does not rule, reign, or exist has run its course. Psychological crises, sexual dysphoria, abortion on demand, and abetted murder through suicide have ensured that its adherents have no future. This culture of fruitlessness is, in fact, a culture of death.

This is no time to treat virtuous leadership as a novelty—or worse, a luxury. The hour demands men with moral steel, not managers with polished résumés.

Weakened, androgenized, and disillusioned, the modern Westerner is trained not to resist but to flinch—to tiptoe around grievance, to appease evildoers, to offer civility to ideological thuggery, and to baptize the banal appetites of late modernity as virtue.

Bereft of discernment and stripped of conviction, the faithful of secular, atheistic, and postmodern creeds serve merely as placeholders. Into this vacuum steps a bolder claimant—Islam, not merely as religion, but as a rival cosmology, unembarrassed by its assertions and unafraid to demand allegiance.

Pioneered by a pedophile who conferred with Lucifer's minions, Islam has produced a vast wasteland. It has spawned a legacy of despotism, destitution, and doctrinal violence. It is a religion of conquest, coercion, and fatalism—intolerant of dissent and unyielding in its vision of global submission. Yet its adherents are not without strategy. Through mass immigration, demographic momentum, shrewd propaganda, and alliances with Western activists intoxicated by guilt, Islam has exploited the naivety of secular elites. The gates were not stormed—they were opened from within by secularists.

The lay of the land suggests in no uncertain terms that this is war. A cosmic battle between truth and lies, good and evil, beauty and distortion, joy and despondency, freedom and fear, prosperity and impoverishment, Christendom and chaos.

This is no time to treat virtuous leadership as a novelty—or worse, a luxury. The hour demands men with moral steel, not managers with polished résumés. Yet many who still possess access to the rich seams of virtue behave as though enemies are a fiction, threats a myth, and darkness a distant inconvenience. Such delusion is not innocence but abdication.

The 19th-century poet Charles Mackay saw through a similar pretense:

You have no enemies, you say?
Alas! my friend, the boast is poor;
He who has mingled in the fray
Of duty, that the brave endure,
Must have made foes! If you have none,
Small is the work that you have done.
You’ve hit no traitor on the hip,
You’ve dashed no cup from perjured lip,
You’ve never turned the wrong to right,
You’ve been a coward in the fight

Civility without courage is cowardice in a tailored suit.

Over time, New Saint Andrews College has earned a reputation for unsettling the timid and confronting the fashionable cowardice of polite society. It is not a retreat from culture but a forge within it—forming students in the hard disciplines of Christlike virtue and preparing them to trouble the enemies of God, not accommodate them.

For years, its advertisements have been designed not to soothe, but to stir—to comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable. The message is blunt: there is a war on, and Christians must choose whether to hide or fight. The content speaks to those who have grown weary of complaint and compromise and are ready to resist.

What this moment demands is not sentiment, but spine. It calls for leaders who count the cost and still press forward; who bear slander without capitulating; who are not only learned but eloquent, not only bold but disciplined. It demands men and women who have put sin to death in private so they may stand upright in public. Leaders who refuse to be governed by shame, who are unbought, unbowed, and unafraid to dissent. Leaders who hold their nerve, mock false gods, laugh at the odds, and advance when retreat is more convenient. It calls for resilience forged by trial, justice anchored in truth, and strength tempered by charity. Above all, it requires leaders whose faith is steady, whose hope endures, and whose love aims not at self-promotion but at glory—glory for the good of others and the honor of Christ.

New Saint Andrews College exists to cultivate such leaders. Here, students are taught not simply to diagnose cultural decay but to wield Boniface's axe—to fall idols and then build beauty upon the ruins. NSA embraces the fight—not because it is fashionable but because faithfulness demands it, because Christ commands it, and because Christendom will not be built by bystanders.