When Power Hides Behind Symbols: How Images, Rituals, and Slogans Shape Allegiance More Than We Realize
I opened this episode with a story that still sticks with me. A Welsh woman, living far from town, paid a great price to have electricity installed in her cottage. A neighbor noticed she hardly used the electric light and wondered if it was worth it. Her reply was simple: she switched the electricity on every night just long enough to light her oil lamps, then switched it back off. With real power available at the flip of a switch, she continued working as if nothing had changed.
That picture captures something I see all around us. Hidden power often runs in the background, unseen but real, like electricity in the walls. Elites can possess that kind of power—quiet, embedded, and rarely visible unless you know where to look. And like that woman, people can live as though what’s available to them isn’t actually available, defaulting to old habits and familiar systems even when something better or truer is right there.
One of the most overlooked ways power works is through symbols. Governments, empires, and movements don’t rely only on laws or force. They use images, rituals, and repeated slogans to shape belief. Once hearts and imaginations are captured, bodies rarely have to be chained. Symbols can represent loyalty, hope, and identity—but when symbols replace truth, they stop being reminders and start becoming tools.
History makes this plain. Hitler used the swastika. Masonic lodges employ the square and compass. From the beginning, mankind has been drawn to symbols because they make big ideas feel concrete. They simplify. They unify. They give people something to hold onto. But they also have a dangerous ability to bypass careful thought and pull on emotion.
Scripture gives a clear warning about this. In Daniel 3, King Nebuchadnezzar erected a golden image to symbolize Babylon’s glory and authority. The command was direct: when the music played, everyone bowed. That outward act wasn’t merely a matter of public ceremony—it was enforced conformity. Refusal wasn’t treated as private conviction; it was treated as rebellion. When the three Hebrew boys refused to bow, they weren’t simply refusing a statue. They were defying what the statue represented: imperial power demanding worship. Their stand was faithfulness to the invisible God over obedience to a visible image.
That story isn’t just ancient history. It exposes a pattern. Power often cloaks itself in beauty and ceremony until what looks like unity becomes forced agreement. Even in Jesus’ time, symbols were used to disguise corruption and demand allegiance. Rome lifted the eagle high over its legions as a sign of Caesar’s supremacy. Citizens swore loyalty to the symbol and, by extension, to the emperor behind it. When the Pharisees tried to trap Jesus, they produced a coin stamped with Caesar’s image. Jesus asked whose image it bore, and they answered Caesar’s. His response cut through the entire scheme: render to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God. Coins may bear Caesar’s image, but people bear God’s. The deeper point was about ultimate allegiance.
I then moved forward to early America, because the founders understood how symbols can become instruments of control. The British crown wasn’t merely a governing structure; it became a symbol of tyranny. The king’s image on currency and his stamp on documents weren’t just legal markers—they were constant reminders of subjugation. When the colonies declared independence, they didn’t only resist an army; they rejected the symbols of royal dominance. They removed the crown from currency, tore down statues of the king, and raised new symbols—the Liberty Bell, the flag, the eagle.
What mattered was the intended message behind those American symbols. They were meant to remind people that power flows from the Creator to the individual, not from the government down to the governed. That is why the Declaration speaks in terms of rights endowed by a Creator and begins with “we the people,” not “we the government.” The national eagle, in that sense, was not designed to demand worship. It was meant to symbolize freedom.
But symbols don’t stay pure automatically. Over time, people can drift from what a symbol points to and begin treating the symbol itself as sacred. That’s where the danger returns. The moment a flag, a party, a slogan, or a brand becomes something we defend without thought—or trust without examination—our allegiance has shifted from truth to imagery.
This is why Paul’s words matter so much: we walk by faith, not by sight. That isn’t only about unseen hope. It’s a warning against manipulation. Images, words, and slogans can be used to deceive precisely because they bypass the slow work of discernment. If the imagination is captured, the conscience soon follows.
Revelation 13 adds another sobering layer: the final form of deception is portrayed as visual, emotional, and total—symbolized by a beast and a mark. I’m not treating that as a reason to obsess over speculation, but as a reason to stay awake in the present. The underlying truth is that power always hides where people stop thinking and start feeling. Nebuchadnezzar had his statue. Rome had its eagle. Britain had its crown. Our modern world has brands, screens, and hashtags—modern idols demanding loyalty.
The church was never meant to bow to images. We were made to bear God’s image, reflect His truth, and speak with love and courage when others stay silent. The struggle is not ultimately against statues or slogans, but against the invisible forces that use them to enslave.
So I closed this episode with a simple line of guidance: honor symbols when they point to truth, but never worship them when they replace it. The only power worthy of devotion is the One who said He is the way, the truth, and the life. And Dr. Benjamin Rush captured the heart of the matter when he said he had been called different political labels, but he was neither—he was a “Christocrat,” believing that human power fails to produce true order and happiness, and that only the One who created and redeemed man is qualified to govern him.
America does not merely need new symbols. We need clearer sight—so that symbols are placed back in their proper role as signposts, not substitutes for truth. 2-6 when power hides behind sym…
Application
Audit what you emotionally “salute.” Pay attention to what reliably triggers instant approval, anger, or fear in you—logos, slogans, party labels, celebrity figures, national symbols, even ministry branding. When a symbol controls your reaction before truth has a chance to speak, it has started to function as a lever.
Practice rendering rightly. In practical terms, that means fulfilling civic responsibilities without confusing them with worship. Respect authority where appropriate, but reserve ultimate allegiance for God. The line is crossed when obedience to a symbol demands compromise of conscience.
Slow down the manipulation cycle. Modern persuasion moves at the speed of images and outrage. Build habits that force thinking back into the process: read full statements instead of headlines, verify context before sharing, and refuse to let hashtags decide what you believe.
Reattach symbols to their meaning. If you honor a flag, consciously connect it to what it is supposed to represent—liberty under God, rights endowed by the Creator, and responsibility before Him. If a symbol no longer points to that truth, acknowledge the drift instead of defending the drift.
Teach discernment at home and in church. With children especially, explain the difference between honoring something and worshiping it. Help them name what a symbol is meant to point to, and how propaganda works when symbols replace truth.
Stand firm without becoming tribal. It is possible to be clear, courageous, and faithful without being captured by a team identity. Refuse to treat political labels as spiritual categories. Measure movements by truth, not by the feeling of belonging they offer.
Devotional Questions
What symbols, slogans, or public rituals have the strongest emotional pull on my thinking, and what beliefs do they quietly reinforce?
In what areas of life do I find myself reacting quickly “by sight” rather than walking carefully by faith?
Where might I be honoring something that once pointed to truth but now competes with truth for my loyalty?
What would it look like in daily practice to render properly—giving civic responsibility its place while keeping ultimate allegiance to God?
When I feel pressure to conform outwardly, what convictions must remain non-negotiable so that I do not bow to images that replace truth?
TL;DR
Power often works through symbols—images, rituals, and slogans that shape belief so thoroughly that force becomes unnecessary. Scripture warns against this pattern through Nebuchadnezzar’s image in Daniel 3 and Jesus’ teaching about Caesar’s coin and God’s rightful claim. Early American symbols were meant to point back to freedom rooted in the Creator, but any symbol can drift into idolatry when it replaces truth. The calling is to think clearly, walk by faith rather than sight, and honor symbols only when they serve truth instead of substituting for it.