The Arrogance of Empire

This week, the U.S. dropped bombs on Iranian soil. No credible evidence of weapons-grade uranium. No congressional approval. Just another hasty, self-righteous swing of the imperial fist. And for what? Because Iran dares to exist with dignity? Because they want the same nuclear energy infrastructure every developed nation claims as their right?

Sunday’s Revised Common Lectionary reading hit different this time. In yesterday's First Formation podcast episode (TW: racialized language), I reflected on the Gospel text and its unsettling relevance. Jesus sends his followers into towns where they might not be welcomed—not with vengeance, but with vulnerability. If they’re rejected, they dust off their boots and move on. No fire from heaven. No precision airstrike.

But America’s boots don’t gather dust. They stomp. We don’t know how to be rejected without retaliating. Iran’s desire to build energy capacity—to join the ranks of fully developed nations—isn’t a threat, it’s an insult to western entitlement. That’s what offends the US and Israel most: the audacity of a non-Western nation refusing to bow.

What’s worse is how familiar this all feels. Like we’ve confused global superiority with godliness. Israel and the U.S. play gatekeepers of development, deciding who’s “ready” for nuclear power while stockpiling arsenals of their own. It's hypocrisy masked as security.

This bombing isn’t about safety. It’s about dominance. It’s empire policing its narrative—hunting down lesser nations to keep the illusion alive that the West is wiser, better, safer. But Jesus’ way wasn’t domination. It was dusting off and moving on.

Grunts know something about being expendable in someone else’s crusade. We know the bitter taste of orders without justification. Maybe that’s why this hits so hard. Empire doesn’t just drop bombs abroad. It drops them on the truth.