The Gospel Is Political. Christian Nationalism Is Not.

A few days ago, I had the opportunity to sit around a table with a group of clergy and a local politician. It was a good conversation. Thoughtful. Honest. The kind of conversation I wish happened more often.

But there was one phrase that came up that always makes me cringe.

"We need a separation of church and state."

I know exactly what people mean when they say it. They're usually pushing back against the growing influence of Christian Nationalism or warning against one religion controlling government. I share those concerns completely.

But I don't think "separation of church and state" is actually the right way to frame the conversation.

Because my faith absolutely informs my politics.** (See Addendum at the bottom)

It always has.

I don't stop being a Christian when I step into a voting booth. I don't check the Gospel at the door before writing a letter to my elected officials or advocating for policies that I believe help my neighbors flourish. If I truly believe Jesus meant it when he said to love our neighbors, care for the poor, welcome the stranger, feed the hungry, and seek justice, then of course those convictions shape the way I engage in public life.

How could they not?

The Gospel has always had political implications.

Jesus proclaimed good news to the poor in an empire built on inequality. He challenged systems that exploited people. He elevated those society pushed to the margins. He confronted religious leaders who had become more interested in power than compassion. His message wasn't partisan—but it certainly wasn't private.

Faith that never affects the way we live in the world isn't much of a faith at all.

What concerns me isn't that Christians are involved in politics.

It's that some Christians have confused the Kingdom of God with the kingdoms of this world.

That's where Christian Nationalism enters the picture.

Here in Southwest Washington—and particularly around the city of Battle Ground, Washington —we've seen Christian Nationalism become increasingly visible. (Here are some articles by Oregon Public Broadcasting: A Christian vision for Battle Ground? ; Christian Loacalism) Churches and ministries sometimes blur the line between proclaiming Christ and pursuing political power. Ultimately Christian Nationalists use the power of the government to legally privilege folks who are Christian over others. Patriotism becomes confused with discipleship. Political loyalty is mistaken for faithfulness to Jesus. Scripture is used less as a call to love our neighbors and more as a weapon against people who are different.

The result is heartbreaking.

People who have been hurt by these expressions of Christianity often assume that's what Christianity is. They walk away convinced that the church exists to gain power rather than to serve. They hear the name of Jesus and immediately think of culture wars instead of radical love.

As a pastor, that grieves me.

Because that isn't the Christianity I've dedicated my life to.

The Jesus I follow consistently stood with those who had been pushed aside. The Jesus I preach invites us into humility rather than domination, service rather than control, mercy rather than fear.

That's political.

But it's a very different kind of politics.

The Constitution protects both the free exercise of religion and prevents the government from establishing one. Those are important protections for everyone—Christians included. I don't want the government writing my theology any more than I want my theology becoming the government's official religion.

But neither do I want people of faith to believe they must leave their deepest convictions outside the public square.

We need people whose values are shaped by compassion.

We need people whose faith calls them toward justice.

We need people whose spiritual lives make them more humble, more curious, more generous, and more committed to the common good.

What we don't need is a movement that claims God endorses one nation, one party, one ideology, or one culture.

There is a world of difference between faith informing our politics and politics becoming our religion.

One calls us to love our neighbors.

The other teaches us to fear them.

As followers of Jesus, I pray we'll always know the difference.

**

Addendum (if you've read this far...):

I should also say that this isn't just true for Christians.

I would fully expect my Jewish neighbors, my Muslim neighbors, my Sikh neighbors, my Buddhist neighbors, my Hindu neighbors, my atheist neighbors, and people of every faith tradition—or no faith tradition at all—to bring the values that shape their lives into the voting booth. That's part of living in a healthy, pluralistic democracy.

The goal isn't for everyone to believe the same thing.

The goal is that we recognize one another's humanity.

We can disagree about theology, philosophy, economics, and public policy while still affirming that every person possesses inherent dignity and sacred worth.

Human rights are for everyone.

Healthcare is for everyone.

The right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness is for everyone.

Not just for those who look like us, worship like us, vote like us, or love like us.

That is the kind of society I believe God longs for—a community where our deepest convictions move us not toward domination, but toward compassion; not toward exclusion, but toward belonging; not toward fear, but toward love.