Resistance is Futile - Why You Can't Escape the System Designed to Keep You

“All references to Pastor Roger Jimenez are based on public sermons, publicly available content, and personal firsthand experience. This content is shared in good faith for purposes of education, commentary, and healing. Opinions expressed are protected under the First Amendment.”

I remember the first time I felt the pressure to conform to the church system I was in. We were still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship with Verity Baptist Church. During that time, many of us would stay long after the preaching was over in order to fellowship and sharpen one another. We would exchange stories on how we found Verity; more often than not, we were led there through an online documentary called After the Tribulation. We discussed the families and friends we forsook (or the ones who forsook us) in order to yoke ourselves with the church, almost like it was a badge of honor. And we would mock or ridicule other churches who didn't share the same doctrines as our own.

I had a particular penchant for studying end-times prophecy, especially in the books of Daniel and Revelation. Admittedly, I had a certain pride in rediscovering the doctrine of the post-tribulation, pre-wrath rapture through After the Tribulation, and I wanted to build off of that. On this particular evening, I hoped to have a casual conversation with Pastor Roger Jimenez about some of my findings in the book of Revelation and how they compared to the church's current teaching on the subject. What happened was anything but casual.

When I expressed my desire to talk about it, rather than engage in any kind of back-and-forth, Pastor Jimenez called his staff together and we all sat around a table. Naively, I thought that perhaps this would be some sort of Socratic discussion on the timing of end-times events. In reality, it was a one-way conversation. After I highlighted the verses I was looking at and some of my initial thoughts, the conversation shifted into a classroom, and I was the student. The pastor took the next several moments to reiterate the "church's" stance on the timeline, and that this wasn't a topic up for debate. Rather than try to explain my desires or defend my position, I folded immediately, recognizing that this type of conversation was not welcome here. I simply agreed with the pastor while making a mental note that I would avoid bringing up doctrine with him again.

While on the surface this looks like a rather benign incident, my deeper reflection on the event revealed to me the hidden manipulation that was taking place. My questions weren't viewed as any kind of sincere inquiry into the Word—they were viewed as a direct affront to a system that wasn’t interested in moving. The response wasn’t friendly dialogue, but a panel designed to direct me toward assimilation.

And it worked.

"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

This now-infamous line from Star Trek wasn't just sci-fi horror—it was prophecy. For those still within the system of Verity Baptist and churches like it, you may already feel the pressure to conform. Maybe you’ve noticed a tightening grip around your thoughts, your speech, your relationships. You’re not imagining it. The system is working exactly as designed.

The Process of Being Assimilated

Have you ever heard a pastor say something like, "People say we’re a cult. Your friends and family are saying you’re being brainwashed. Well, your brain needed to be washed!"?

It’s a clever deflection. Rather than address the concern, it ridicules it—and shames you for even considering it. That’s step one in what Richard Grannon calls the "shared fantasy"—a cult-like delusion where the narcissist at the center (in this case, the pastor) weaves a reality in which only he has the truth and everyone else is deceived.

Eventually, sermons stop feeling like food for your soul and start feeling like surgical strikes. You might think to yourself, "Is he preaching at me?"—and you wouldn’t be wrong to think that.

Take this example: a sermon from 1 Kings 3:16–28 about Solomon and the two harlots. On the surface, it’s a message about wisdom. But in the hands of a narcissistic pastor, it becomes a covert allegory. The “bad” harlot becomes the person who dared to challenge him; the “good” one becomes the narcissist pastor. You, the listener, are subtly coached to identify as Solomon—so how could you possibly sympathize with the “wrong” woman now? The manipulation is masterful. It’s so layered that only those inside the system are even capable of catching it. Everyone else just sees a Bible sermon.

The Assimilation Team

Many believe the narcissistic leader stands alone at the top of the hierarchy. But the reality is darker: he is surrounded by enablers. These are the “flying monkeys,” the foot soldiers of his control. Their job? Protect the system.

They may appear to be simply devoted Christians. But behind the mask of sincerity lies a darker purpose. Because they aren’t public figures, they can move subtly, applying peer pressure, whispering corrections, reporting dissent. One moment they’re your friend in the pew; the next, they’re monitoring your attendance, your tithe, your tone.

The "splitting" mechanism—another concept explained by Grannon—is rampant in systems like these. People are either all good or all bad. There is no nuance, no grace. You’re either in or out. A loyalist or a traitor.

Some of these flying monkeys are even deputized. Imagine a church security system with 70+ cameras. Sounds like protection, right? But when that system is used to track individuals who aren’t behaving “just right,” and those observations are weaponized to isolate or punish you—what is that, if not surveillance and intimidation?

And here’s the chilling part: these people sleep well at night. Because to them, they’re doing God’s work.

Pre-programmed for Assimilation

This part may sting, but it’s also where your power begins. People like us often have traits that make us vulnerable to this kind of manipulation: hyper-vigilance, low self-worth, fear of saying no, the need for validation through performance. These didn’t start in the church. They started in our childhoods.

If you grew up with parents who only offered love when you were perfect, when you were silent, when you were useful—you were trained for assimilation. You learned that if you had needs, or boundaries, or flaws, love would be withheld. That trauma never left. It just put on new clothes and followed you to church.

The narcissistic church system knows this. That’s why it throws breadcrumbs of approval your way—just enough to keep you hooked. You feel a burst of joy when the pastor mentions you from the pulpit, even subtly. When you're invited to preach. When you're seen. But it’s not love—it’s control. And every high is followed by the fear of the next fall.

What to do if you can’t get away yet

Not everyone can just walk away. Maybe your family’s still in. Maybe your social world is wrapped up in it. If you’re still inside the machine, your best option is not to play the game.

Jefferson Fisher calls this the game of “Praise or Provoke.” If you’re not praising the system, you’ll be provoked. The moment you speak up, even politely, the goalpost moves.

Say, "That was rude." and you’ll hear, "Rude? You want to talk about rude?" And suddenly you’re defending yourself against accusations you never saw coming. You lose.

Your best strategy in the short term? Say nothing they can latch onto. Use neutral statements: "Noted." "That’s good to know." "Thank you." These are verbal teflon. They don't give the narcissist or their enablers anything to stick their hooks into.

You've Been Captured - Now Get Free

You may still believe there's something redeemable about the system. That if you just say it right, or do enough, or pray harder, you’ll finally earn their acceptance.

But narcissists don’t change. They adapt. They learn to say and do exactly what's needed for you to give them just a few moments of peace, at the expense of your long-term mental health.

You don’t deserve what happened to you, but you’re the only one who can change it. You can become the version of you that your parents, your church, your past relationships never had the capacity to nurture. That’s the you who escapes.

And if you’re clinging to hope because you think this system still offers real love, I need you to ask yourself: What exactly am I keeping this for?

You’re chasing a love that doesn’t exist, but here’s the truth:

You are not the problem. You are not crazy. You are in a system designed to consume you.

And now that you see it for what it is, you have a choice:

Get out. Get free. Reclaim yourself.

The Borg doesn’t let go. You have to break free.