A Christmas message to Bitcoiners

Throughout history, ideas that fundamentally challenge existing power structures are rarely welcomed by those who benefit from the status quo. Bitcoin, as a decentralized monetary network, finds itself in a position strikingly similar to that of early Christianity: rejected by central authorities, misunderstood by the masses, and sustained primarily by belief among ordinary people rather than endorsement from institutions. While one is a religious movement and the other a technological and monetary innovation, both illustrate a recurring pattern in human history—the collision between emergent belief systems and entrenched authority.

Early Christianity arose within a world dominated by religious and political institutions that claimed exclusive authority over truth, law, and legitimacy. The Jewish Temple establishment and the Roman state both viewed Christianity as a destabilizing force. Its teachings bypassed institutional gatekeepers, asserting that spiritual access did not require intermediaries, wealth, or political alignment. This democratization of faith was profoundly threatening. It removed control from centralized authorities and placed it into the hands of individuals, communities, and conscience.

Bitcoin similarly challenges modern centralized authority, not in matters of salvation, but in matters of money—arguably one of the most powerful instruments of social organization. Governments and central banks function as the “temple” of modern finance, defining monetary truth, legitimacy, and access. Bitcoin’s rejection by regulatory bodies and state actors mirrors the early institutional rejection of Christianity. It does not ask permission. It does not require trust in a central authority. Instead, it offers a system governed by transparent rules, voluntary participation, and cryptographic verification rather than institutional decree.

Both Christianity and Bitcoin were initially embraced not by elites, but by ordinary people. Early Christians were largely drawn from the lower and middle classes, individuals seeking meaning, justice, and hope beyond imperial power and religious hierarchy. Likewise, Bitcoin’s early adopters were not governments or major financial institutions, but individuals disillusioned with inflation, financial exclusion, and systemic instability. In both cases, the appeal was not dominance but liberation—the ability to participate without needing approval from entrenched power.

Mass rejection is another shared characteristic. New belief systems rarely enjoy immediate acceptance. Early Christianity was dismissed as heretical, irrational, and dangerous. Bitcoin today is often labeled a scam, a cult, or a tool for criminals. In both cases, critics frequently attack not only the idea itself but the character and intelligence of its adherents. This reaction is less about the merits of the belief and more about discomfort with its implications. If the system works, then the authority of existing institutions is called into question.

Belief itself becomes the battleground. Christianity required faith in a message that could not be empirically proven within the frameworks of its time. Bitcoin similarly requires belief—belief that code can substitute for trust, that decentralized consensus can outperform centralized control, and that value can exist outside state decree. In both cases, belief is not blind acceptance but a commitment formed through conviction, experience, and community reinforcement.

Finally, both movements demonstrate that belief will always be challenged by non-believers. Skepticism is not merely opposition; it is an inevitable response to any idea that reorders power. Christianity endured centuries of persecution before institutional acceptance. Bitcoin, still in its early stage, remains in its period of testing—socially, politically, and economically. Whether it follows a similar trajectory is unknown, but the pattern is familiar.

In conclusion, Bitcoin’s resemblance to early Christianity lies not in doctrine, but in structure and reception. Both emerged outside institutional authority, appealed to the common person, threatened centralized control, and survived through belief rather than permission. History suggests that such ideas are not extinguished by rejection; instead, they are refined by it. Whether spiritual or monetary, belief systems that resonate deeply with human values tend to persist —often long after their critics have faded into footnotes.

I for one am staying in the catacombs of self-custody.