California multi-site megachurch pastor, Albert Tate, says we have “satanic Christians.”

That is a spicy accusation. It has teeth. It has sulfur on it. It walks into the room wearing a black robe and carrying a bucket of theological gasoline.

So who are these satanic Christians?

According to Tate, they are Christians whose positions on issues like guns and abortion lack enough consideration for progressive perspectives. Their views have become “satanic,” he says, because they are supposedly making it all about themselves, their opinion, their perspective.

Then he turns to abortion and says God cares about “the woman and the choice that she has to struggle to make,” and about the circumstances that have forced her to make that choice.

Do you see what just happened?

The baby vanished. Poof. Gone.

One second we are talking about abortion, the deliberate killing of an unborn child, and the next second the entire moral universe has been crowded with “perspectives,” “circumstances,” “struggle,” “choice,” and “nuance.”

The child at the center of the bloody thing disappears behind a fog machine of pastoral sensitivity. The actual victim gets swallowed by the therapeutic atmosphere. The baby is erased, and then the people who refuse to participate in the erasure are now… satanic?

Let’s drag this logic into the daylight for a minute. If a Christian says, “No, child murder should be abolished,” and the response is, “Well, you are being satanic because you have not properly considered the other perspectives,” then Satan has apparently become the patron saint of moral clarity.

Apparently, the devil now loves abortion absolutism. The serpent isn’t offended by too much opposition to killing babies. Hell is now full of people who would have been more respectable if only they had spoken with gentler vowels and better emotional texture.

What a clown show.

On Tate’s logic, the Christian who says “do not murder” has made the issue about himself. The Christian who says a child in the womb bears the image of God is self-centered. The Christian who refuses to wrap child sacrifice in a velvet swaddling cloth has taken “the posture and pace and role of Satan.”

Meanwhile, the woman’s “choice” gets treated like the moral center of gravity. Her circumstances get examined. Her struggle gets honored. Her pain gets named. Her pressure gets weighed. And yes, all those things may be real. A woman can be afraid. She can be abandoned. She can be poor. She can be manipulated. She can be sinned against. She can be desperate. She can need help, protection, provision, counsel, and mercy.

But none of that turns the child into medical waste.

That is the point the nuance merchants refuse to say with a straight spine.

Christian compassion does not require moral ambiguity. Christian mercy does not require pretending evil becomes complicated enough to survive if we pile enough adjectives on it. The mother matters. The father matters. The circumstances matter. The poverty matters. The abandonment matters. The abuse matters. The fear matters.

And the baby matters.

The baby matters at conception, with a heartbeat, a body, a life, an image-bearing existence, and a silent claim upon every conscience in the room. That child is not a rhetorical inconvenience. That child is not an unfortunate detail in the woman’s journey. That child is the one being killed.

Tate’s framing turns the pro-life Christian into the villain because he refuses to bow before the altar of nuance. But biblical ethics does not work that way. The sixth commandment does not arrive with a footnote reading, “unless the surrounding circumstances are emotionally complex.” The commandment does not ask whether murder feels tragic enough to become morally negotiable. It speaks with the authority of God.

You shall not murder. That is not satanic. That is Scripture.

The irony is that Satan would be the one to make such an assertion.

Here, a pastor stands in front of people and suggests that firm opposition to the systematic murder of unborn children may be satanic because it lacks consideration for other perspectives, while the actual Satanic posture is the one that asks, “Did God really say?”

Did God really say the child in the womb is sacred? Did God really say life belongs to Him? Did God really say we may not shed innocent blood? Did God really say the weak must be protected?

Christians are obligated to seek out the only perspective that matters—God’s perspective—and hold fast to that.

Compromise on abortion never begins by demanding child sacrifice outright. It begins by asking for nuance. It begins by softening the edges. It begins by shifting attention. It begins by making obedience sound cruel and disobedience sound compassionate.

It begins by telling us that clear moral lines are immature, harmful, self-centered, and dangerous.

Then the blood flows.

The left has mastered this method, and too many church leaders have learned to baptize it. They know that if they can make abortion about everything except the unborn child, they can keep the machinery running.

Talk about choice. Talk about healthcare. Talk about poverty. Talk about trauma. Talk about complexity. Talk about access. Talk about dignity. Talk about women. Talk about systems. Talk about anything. Just do not linger too long on the child.

Do not look at the ultrasound.

Do not say “murder.”

Do not ask what abortion does.

And if some stubborn Christian refuses to play along, call him hateful. Call him simplistic. Call him extreme. Call him satanic if you want the room to gasp.

That word should have stayed far away from this argument unless Tate was ready to apply it to the shedding of innocent blood.

The satanic thing in the abortion debate is not the Christian demand that abortion be abolished. The satanic thing is the moral alchemy that turns babies into problems, killing into care, gutlessness into nuance, and compromise into compassion.

A pastor should know better. A shepherd should protect the sheep. All of them. Especially the smallest ones. Especially the ones who cannot cry loudly enough for the microphone to pick them up.

So spare me the sanctified tone-policing. Spare me the sermonized obfuscation of reality. Spare me the idea that Christians become satanic when they refuse to treat abortion as a “tragic but respectable” option inside a complicated world.

No.

Abolish it.

We can help the mother. We can rescue the child. And we should rebuke the father who abandoned them. We can even confront the systems that exploit them.

But close the bloody mills.

Those who refuse to do so are the only “satanic Christians” in the room—and they are not “Christian” at all.