Unpacking #1: Reformed Theology

The Sellout of God

You’re not crazy for feeling how heavy this is — because this isn’t just “interpretation,” it’s character.

This isn’t a Bible-nerd argument. It’s an honesty test. In the real world, a man who abandons his own people isn’t a hero… he’s a sellout. So when a theological system quietly trains you to believe God cut off Israel and crowned a replacement, you’re not just “interpreting Scripture differently”… you’re rebranding betrayal as righteousness. And here’s what I’m going to clarify in this article: the reason this move stays popular isn’t mainly academic. It’s psychological. Identity-based systems don’t submit to truth. They remodel truth until it serves the tribe.

I’m calling this series Unpacking. This is Article One: Reformed Theology—not because every Reformed believer is dishonest, but because systems create incentives. And incentives shape what people can “see” in the text.

Let’s say the quiet part out loud

Supersessionism doesn’t just make a claim about Israel.

It makes a claim about God.

It says, in some form: God made covenant promises to a people… and then the church becomes the “true Israel,” inheriting Israel’s identity while Israel becomes functionally obsolete as a covenant people.

That isn’t a small interpretive nuance.

That’s a story about God’s character.

And if the God of Scripture can discard covenant partners when they become inconvenient, then the gospel isn’t “God is faithful.”

It’s “God upgrades His people.”

That’s not good news. That’s corporate rebranding with a halo on it.

Covenant is the moral spine of Scripture

Covenant isn’t a short-term contract. It’s not “performance-based membership with an exit clause.” It’s vow-language. Loyalty-language. The whole reason Scripture keeps returning to God’s faithfulness is because He is not like man—He keeps His word.

So here’s the actual question replacement theology forces:

Does God keep vows when the relationship gets hard… or does He replace the partner and call it righteousness?

Because the Bible’s answer is consistent:

God disciplines. God judges. God prunes. God even exiles.

But He does not become a sellout.

The psychological engine: belonging before truth

Most people don’t start with truth. They start with belonging.

A denomination is an identity shelter. A tribe. A safety mechanism.

It gives you certainty when life feels unstable… status when you want to feel aligned… and a script when you don’t want the text to surprise you.

Then Scripture confronts the script.

And most people don’t abandon the script.

They adjust Scripture until it stops threatening the shelter.

That’s motivated reasoning. It doesn’t require malice. It just requires fear—fear of being wrong, fear of losing tribe, fear of losing “I know where I stand.”

And Israel is the easiest part of the story to “edit” if your system needs to be the center.

Chosen got hijacked: from communal calling to personal trophy

Now let’s hit the “chosen” ideology head-on, because this is where a lot of the poison gets its sweetness.

Biblically, chosen is first a communal calling, not a personalized spiritual trophy.

God’s “choosing” in Scripture isn’t primarily, “You get to feel special.”

It’s, “You’ve been assigned responsibility.”

Chosen means: carrying God’s Name faithfully, embodying His ways, being a living witness in the world, and absorbing the cost of being His people.

That’s why Israel’s story includes discipline, exile, pruning, and constant correction. Chosen didn’t mean “automatic applause.” It meant, “You will be held to covenant.”

But religious systems—especially ones addicted to superiority—flip that calling into a vehicle for personal salvation status.

Chosen becomes:

“I’m safe no matter what.”

“I’m better than those people.”

“I’m the proof God likes me.”

“I’m in the inner circle.”

“God picked me because I’m the right kind of person.”

And once “chosen” becomes individualized like that, it turns into an engine for elitism.

Here’s the difference that people keep missing:

God’s election is not primarily about who gets to gloat.

It’s about who gets to serve as the worldwide example.

Israel is the clearest biblical example of that. Not because Israel is flawless—because Israel is on display. The story is public. The discipline is public. The mercy is public. The restoration is public.

And then Paul comes along and says: Gentiles, you’re not being brought in so you can strut. You’re being brought in so you can fear God, walk humbly, and not boast. (Romans 11)

So when a system turns “chosen” into a personalized salvation badge, you get predictable fruit:

• The story becomes “about us,” not about God’s faithfulness.

• Mercy becomes entitlement.

• Calling becomes superiority.

• And Israel becomes the scapegoat needed to keep the new “chosen class” feeling clean.

That’s why replacement theology is so psychologically attractive: it doesn’t just offer inclusion. It offers centrality.

But Scripture doesn’t crown you. Scripture grafts you.

And grafted people don’t brag. They tremble. They stay grateful.

When doctrine starts acting like a high-conflict relationship

I’m not diagnosing theologians. I’m not labeling people with disorders. I’m naming recognizable relational dynamics—the kind you see in high-conflict environments where image and control matter more than reality.

Narrative control

If the plain reading threatens the system, the system demands reinterpretation. Not careful nuance—control.

Gaslighting

You read Jeremiah 31 and see the New Covenant promised to the house of Israel and the house of Judah… and you’re told it “really means the church.”

You read Romans 11 and hear Paul say God has not rejected His people… and you’re told, “Don’t take that too far.”

Over time, you stop trusting what you can plainly see and start trusting the approved meaning.

Gaslighting isn’t “you’re stupid.” It’s “you can’t trust your eyes.”

Straw manning

If you challenge replacement logic, you’re often handed a fake version of your argument:

“So Gentiles can’t be saved.”

“So Torah saves.”

“So the cross wasn’t enough.”

“So you’re making people Jewish.”

No. That’s not the claim.

The claim is covenant continuity: Gentiles are saved by Messiah and brought near by mercy… grafted in… warned against boasting… and called to honor God’s covenant faithfulness rather than replace it.

Moral inversion

This is the core.

The system takes something we all recognize as immoral in real life—abandoning covenant partners—and rebrands it as holiness.

Betrayal becomes “faithfulness.”

Discarding becomes “fulfillment.”

Replacement becomes “progress.”

That’s propaganda logic: you don’t change the act… you change the label.

Scapegoating

Israel becomes the cautionary tale that lets the tribe feel righteous: “legalistic,” “rejected,” “obsolete,” “the old thing we replaced.”

A scapegoat carries what the group doesn’t want to carry: humility, gratitude, dependence… and the uncomfortable truth that Gentiles are guests brought near by mercy, not owners who seized the house.

The real-world analogy still holds… because it’s moral, not ethnic

If a husband makes vows, builds a life, bears children… then discards his wife and says, “Actually, I’ve got a new bride now…and she’s the true one,” we don’t call that righteousness. We call it betrayal with religious makeup on.

If a leader builds his brand off a community… then replaces them when they become inconvenient… we call it opportunism.

So I’m asking a simple question:

If you wouldn’t call this virtue in the real world… why are you calling it virtue when it’s attributed to God?

The American case study: when “doctrine” became an elitism tool… and slavery needed a Bible

Now let’s bring this down from theory to history.

Because this isn’t the first time “orthodoxy” got weaponized to protect a social order.

In the nineteenth-century United States, churches across denominations split under the pressure of slavery—and many Christians produced Bible-based arguments defending chattel slavery as morally acceptable.¹ And one of the clearest institutional examples is the Southern Baptist Convention, organized in 1845 in Augusta, Georgia, amid disputes tied directly to slavery—especially whether slaveholders could be appointed as missionaries.²³

To be crystal clear: I’m not saying “the SBC is Reformed.” It’s Baptist. I’m using it as a case study for the same system dynamics I’m naming in this article: when a tribe has something to lose—power, reputation, cultural dominance—it will find theologians, verses, and vocabulary to keep the machine running.

Selective proof-texting becomes “biblical clarity.”

Appeals to “order” become moral cover.

And the so-called “Curse of Ham” tradition is a clean example of how a misreading can be leveraged to baptize racial hierarchy as if it were covenant truth.⁴

And to be fair, the SBC later publicly acknowledged and repudiated that legacy—explicitly naming slavery’s role in its formation and apologizing for racism in a major 1995 resolution.(1)

So why bring this up?

Because it proves something you and I both know:

Religious systems can absolutely learn to baptize betrayal… if betrayal protects the tribe.

And once a system learns that move historically, it becomes easier to repeat it theologically.

The Holocaust case study: when church loyalty to “order” becomes moral collapse

If the slavery story feels like “ancient American history,” the Holocaust should remove that illusion.

Because the same machinery shows up again—only now the stakes are unmistakable.

The question wasn’t, “Did churches exist?” The question was, “What did churches do when the state turned evil?”

And the record shows a spectrum that should sober every believer.

There were Christians and church movements that aligned with the regime, or tried to merge Christianity with Nazi ideology.

The US Holocaust Memorial Museum describes how Nazi anti-Jewish ideology converged with antisemitism that already had deep roots in European—and Christian—history, and how many Christians’ inherited interpretations were used to support prejudice.⁵ That’s the soil systems grow in: not “one bad leader,” but a long-standing cultural reflex that already knows how to look away.

And then you get the “German Christians” movement—a major Protestant effort to subordinate church life to Nazi political goals. Britannica is blunt about the extremism: some wanted to repudiate the Old Testament and even the Pauline letters because of their Jewish authorship.⁶ Think about what that actually is. It’s not “bad theology.” It’s attempted de-Judaizing of the faith—cutting the Bible itself until the system can have a Christianity without Jews.

That is replacement theology’s moral cousin.

Same instinct. Same move.

When the presence of Jews in the story becomes inconvenient, the system doesn’t repent. It edits.

There was also resistance—but even resistance reveals the psychology of systems.

Yes, the Confessing Church formed in opposition to Hitler’s attempt to make churches instruments of Nazi propaganda. The Barmen Declaration is often named here as a theological line in the sand—allegiance belongs to God and Scripture, not a Führer.

But here’s the part that should keep us humble: resisting state takeover of the church is not the same thing as defending Jews as Jews.

Yad Vashem notes that only a small number of Confessing Christians made active efforts to hide Jews or help them escape; many moderates opposed Nazi actions but wanted to avoid a fight and were willing to compromise. That’s not a cheap shot. That’s a mirror.

It shows how easily people can hate evil in theory and still accommodate it in practice—because the system’s first priority becomes survival, reputation, institutional continuity, “keeping order,” “staying safe,” “not rocking the boat.”

And if you want to understand how betrayal gets baptized, you have to understand that voice. It doesn’t sound like a villain.

It sounds like a “reasonable person” protecting the tribe.

And yet there were communities that did the opposite of the system reflex.

Le Chambon-sur-Lignon and surrounding villages in France sheltered thousands of refugees, including thousands of Jews, during the war.* That’s what covenant morality looks like when it isn’t trapped inside institutional self-preservation: quiet courage, communal action, cost-bearing love.

So here’s why I’m bringing the Holocaust into this:

When a system is under pressure—politically, socially, culturally—it can “theologize” its way into moral disaster. It can reframe self-protection as virtue. It can rename cowardice as prudence. It can call silence “wisdom.” It can rebrand betrayal as faithfulness.

And that’s exactly why replacement theology is not a harmless academic difference. It trains the same moral inversion: make covenant abandonment sound righteous, make the marginalized into the scapegoat, and call it “God’s plan.”

The texts that won’t cooperate with replacement

Jeremiah 31

The New Covenant is promised to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. That’s a named people in a named story. The New Covenant renews, writes Torah on the heart, forgives sin, and secures relationship… but it does not redefine God into a vow-breaker.

Romans 9–11

Paul does not say, “Israel failed, so God moved on.”

Paul says:

God has not rejected His people. (Romans 11:1–2)

Gentiles are grafted in among the natural branches. (Romans 11:17)

Gentiles are warned not to boast. (Romans 11:18)

The root supports you, not the other way around. (Romans 11:18)

Mercy to Gentiles is part of a plan that still includes Israel. (Romans 11:25–32)

Romans 11 isn’t a footnote. It’s a warning label.

If your system teaches Gentile superiority—openly or subtly—you’re not hearing Paul.

Ephesians 2

Gentiles were “strangers to the covenants of promise” and are brought near by Messiah. That’s inclusion language, not usurpation language. You’re not told “you replaced Israel.” You’re told “you were far, now you’re near.”

Near to what?

The covenants. The promises. The story already in motion.

John 4:22

Yeshua says salvation is “from the Jews.” Not to exalt ethnicity… but to anchor the storyline. Messiah didn’t drop from space. He came as fulfillment of a covenant narrative.

“But aren’t believers the ‘true Israel’?”

Language games live here.

The New Testament absolutely teaches one people in Messiah. Unity. Shared inheritance in Him.

But here’s the key:

Unity in Messiah is not the same thing as erasure of Israel.

One new man does not mean “old man deleted.”

Grafting does not mean “root replaced.”

Inheritance does not mean “original heirs disowned.”

The moment you turn inclusion into displacement… you cross a moral line.

The steelman: what sincere people are trying to protect

Some Reformed believers are trying to protect: the sufficiency of Messiah, the unity of the body, the danger of ethnocentric pride, and the truth that salvation is by grace, not by bloodline.

I agree with all of that.

But protecting grace does not require turning God into a vow-breaker.

If your theology can only defend grace by implying covenant cancellation, you’re defending grace by sacrificing God’s character.

That’s too high a price.

Why this lands so hard: it threatens the system’s supremacy

Replacement theology gives the tribe something psychologically addictive: centrality.

It whispers to Gentiles:

“You aren’t guests; you’re owners.”

“You didn’t join; you inherited the whole identity.”

“You aren’t grafted; you’re the new root.”

That feels like spiritual elevation.

But Paul calls it boasting.

And boasting is the native language of a religion that needs to feel superior.

Pastors are not allowed to be the final authority here

This distortion survives because people outsource conscience.

They borrow certainty from elevated men with microphones.

That’s not how the body of Messiah is meant to function.

Pastors are not above the sheep.

The real church is community—believers in the text together, sharpening each other, correcting each other, submitting to Scripture instead of brand loyalty.

Shepherds serve the sheep. They don’t own the story.

And any “doctrine” that survives mainly because people are afraid to question their pastor… isn’t doctrine.

It’s control.

The question that ends the debate

If God can break covenant with Israel… why would you trust Him to keep covenant with you?

If the God you worship can discard the people He foreknew, what are you resting your salvation on—His faithfulness… or His mood?

The gospel is not “God found better people.”

The gospel is “God is faithful… and His mercy is wider than you ever imagined… without canceling His promises.”

That God is worth worshiping.

Not a sellout god.

Stillness and invitation

I’m not asking you to join a new tribe.

I’m asking you to drop the tribal reflex.

Read Romans 9–11 slowly, without commentary running in your head. Read Jeremiah 31. Read Ezekiel 36–37. Read Ephesians 2.

Then pray a dangerous prayer:

“Abba, make me loyal to Your covenant truth… even if it embarrasses my tradition.”

That’s where real maturity starts.

May the shalom of our Abba guard you —

shalom v’shalvah.

Your brother in the Way,

Sergio.

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© Sergio DeSoto /sergiodesoto.com. All rights reserved.

This is original, protected work. Pastors and teachers: please do not lift or republish this content as your own. If you share or preach from it, simply credit the source and author. Integrity begins in the pulpit.

1. Southern Baptist Convention, “Resolution On Racial Reconciliation On The 150th Anniversary Of The Southern Baptist Convention” (June 1, 1995).

2. Encyclopaedia Britannica, “Southern Baptist Convention (SBC)” (accessed 2025).

3. “Southern Baptist Convention,” background on 1845 Augusta meeting and slavery-linked missionary dispute (general history overview).

4. Mark E. Biddle, “The Curse of Ham,” Bible Odyssey (Society of Biblical Literature).

5. United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, Holocaust Encyclopedia, “The German Churches and the Nazi State.”

6. Encyclopaedia Britannica, “German Christian” (German Christian Faith Movement; anti-Jewish program and attempted repudiation of Jewish-authored Scripture).

[7] Encyclopaedia Britannica, “Confessing Church” (movement resisting Nazi attempts to use churches for propaganda).

[8] Evangelical Church in Germany (EKD), overview of the Barmen Declaration and its role for the Confessing Church.

[9] Yad Vashem, “Christian Churches” (overview; notes limited active aid for Jews among Confessing Christians and widespread compromise).

[10] United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, Holocaust Encyclopedia, “Le Chambon-sur-Lignon” (refuge and rescue).