How not to Fall into the Abyss of Christian Nationalism — Walking the Tightrope Between Faith and Politics (2)

In Part 1, we explored how the church's apostolic mission is to influence culture, reflecting the values of Jesus' Kingdom. However, when that mission becomes entangled with political power, the clear message of the gospel can become muddled, and democracy itself can be weakened, damaging the very countries we love and want to affect with positive change. Christian nationalism often tries to achieve Kingdom outcomes through the world's methods (I'll also dive deeper into this in Part 3), but this approach frequently causes more harm than good.

In this post, we'll examine how Christian nationalism has manifested historically and in contemporary times. By doing so, we'll see how it distorts the gospel, erodes religious freedoms, creates division instead of unity, and undermines the very democracy we seek to protect. We will also uncover just how pervasive Christian nationalism has become, particularly within our stream of the church. Finally, I'll offer some reflections to help you process and apply these insights to your faith and political engagement.

Christian nationalism presents itself as a trojan horse that offers to solve the church's worst fears: that our country is lost to the devil and that it is staring into the abyss of destruction. Like leaven, Christian nationalism is hard to spot, but it is no less real, and like leaven, it spreads given the right conditions. I want to show you five ways the leaven of nationalism operates in our midst:

In India, Hindu nationalism has increasingly influenced the country. Religious symbols and rituals are frequently incorporated into government functions in ways that faith has been hijacked as a political tool to solidify Hindu majoritarian rule and consolidate political power by appealing to religious identity. I wanted to start with this example because it is easier for us to see that this is wrong.
 
I hope you can see that it is not just because this is Hinduism and that it is problematic because it is a false religion. The issue is universal: when faith (Hindu, Muslim, or Christian) is used as a political tool, it distorts both the faith and politics. Christian nationalism, while more subtle in the West, employs the same mechanisms.

Another related issue is that it alienates the citizens of the country who don't fit into the nationalistic framework or align with the expressed version of faith. This weakens the gospel and damages the unity in the country, creating an us and them divide. Worst of all, it risks turning the Christian faith into a weapon in a political battle rather than the life-changing message of love and redemption that it truly is.

Whether it's a conservative leader holding up a Bible outside a church or a liberal leader using religious language to inspire progressive policies, Christian symbols and faith language have been co-opted across the political spectrum. While the intent might be to appeal to Christian voters, we must ask ourselves: Does this promote the values of the Kingdom, or are these symbols being weaponised to achieve political gain or to curry favour with voters?

Christian nationalism is wrong because it advocates for a privileged role for Christianity, which can marginalise other religious and non-religious groups. We often feel strongly that our country is Christian or should be Christian. I have heard it prayed in Canada that "Jesus' dominion will be sea to sea" (Psalm 72:8)—from the Pacific to the Atlantic. This interpretation totally misses the global nature of Jesus' reign, which transcends bounds and nationalities. It is nationalistic at its heart.

While the prayer for 'Jesus' dominion from sea to sea' may come from a well-meaning place, when it's tied to a political agenda, it risks turning the gospel into a form of nationalism. Christ's Kingdom transcends borders and is already reigning in the hearts of His people. When Christianity is seen as the only legitimate basis for national identity and laws, it risks pushing out voices, leading to exclusion rather than inclusion. Jesus reached out to those on the margins, from Samaritans to tax collectors, embracing diverse people while spreading the message of God's love.

This exclusivity contradicts the biblical call to love our neighbour and respect human dignity and risks creating societal divisions where different beliefs and values coexist peacefully. This is why I emphasised pluralist societies in my definition in Part 1. Christian nationalism often undermines "the peaceful coexistence of multiple groups, beliefs, and values within a pluralistic society—where all are recognised as having equal worth and importance." For a true democracy to be a democracy, it needs to make space for diverse beliefs, including other religions. If we're honest, our visions for His Kingdom come; His will be done, are for a theocracy. I will touch more on this in Part 3, but for now, remember that ever since Jesus ascended to the throne, He has been universally ruling and reigning over the entire planet. Our cries "from sea to sea" already happened 2,000 years ago.

I want to end this point by observing that Christians often assume that all Christian faith perspectives are universally Christian. However, we must remember that there are over 30,000 Protestant denominations—not because of the church's magnificent planting exploits, but because we couldn't agree on issues. I've even heard of churches splitting because they couldn't decide where to place the piano in the sanctuary.

Let's acknowledge that we see things differently and that Christians hold diverse views on many issues, including, dare I say, politically charged ones like abortion and immigration. God's truth is often held in tension. What if two Christians can hold opposing convictions on the same issues derived from deep convictions of their faith, and both are right?

Pluralism is essential for our nations because it creates space for this diversity of perspectives—it is the very oxygen of democracy. God is not conservative or liberal. It's worth asking ourselves: In our desire to see God's Kingdom come, are we willing to welcome those who are different from us, or are we only advocating for our version of Christianity that aligns with our political ideals? If we are not, then we are thinking along nationalist lines.

When democracy works well, it can be an effective means for bringing about Kingdom good within our nations. It's built on pluralism—the peaceful coexistence of different beliefs and voices. But when we try to impose a particular version of Christianity on an entire nation, it often ends up stifling democracy. We limit freedoms, and before long, authoritarianism creeps in, wrapped in religious language or assumed theocracy. Today, some Christians might think the idea of a theocracy is appealing—where God and Christians are in charge, and the country is put back on track. We might also believe that this time around, we will get it right. But history shows us that it never works the way we imagine.

Take a look at 16th-century Geneva under John Calvin, for example. Calvin's Geneva was a theocratic city-state where religious authority and political power were fully intertwined. So, what happened when Christians were put in charge? Did the city improve? The answer depends on what you mean by "better."

In some ways, Geneva did "improve"—moral discipline tightened up, literacy rates improved, and there was a sense of civic order. But "Pax-Geneva" came at a steep price: personal freedoms were crushed, and religious tolerance was nonexistent. The enforcement of religious laws left little room for personal choice or grace, two central tenets of Jesus' teachings. The city might have looked more orderly from the outside, but underneath was an atmosphere of fear, exclusion, and control. This wasn't revival—rather, it was enforced morality, the kind that doesn't change hearts.

For example, they mandated that no one could name their child anything other than approved biblical names. Even worse, dissenters were punished, and heretics like Michael Servetus were executed—Servetus, a Spanish theologian, was burned at the stake for rejecting the Trinity and opposing infant baptism. While Calvin's Geneva was by no means a modern-day dictatorship, it reminds us that even with good intentions, theocratic governance can often result in oppression and suppression of personal freedoms.

Today, most of us would see this kind of government intervention—like deciding what you can name your child—as a massive overreach and even comical. But back then, it was deadly serious. Let's not think we are any less immune from our blindspots.

Let's be honest: we don't need Christians in charge like this. When the church's mission becomes tangled with political control, it ceases to look like the Kingdom Jesus preached—a Kingdom built on grace, love, and service. Instead, it starts to look like control, and we all know how that ends.

Geneva teaches us that while democracy thrives on diversity and freedom, theocracy tends to narrow down that space, leaving little room for the kind of spiritual growth Jesus modelled. And when we trade in that model for power, we risk losing both.

Christian nationalism seeks to create a theocracy from the top down, where Christian values dominate law, culture, and behaviour. This is institutionalised morality. We know from history that the forced imposition of religious values through government eventually leads to resistance, rebellion, and a loss of genuine faith. Authentic Christian faith only flourishes when it is freely chosen and lived out in the context of personal faith and relationship with God and within Christian faith communities.

Theocratic systems also tend to elevate one expression of Christianity over others, creating a narrow view of what faith should look like. This diminishes the diversity that exists within the global church. The evangelical and charismatic traditions, while vital, do not hold a monopoly on God. Christianity has many rich and varied expressions, from Orthodox to Catholic to mainline Protestant. God works in every part of His body. Imposing a singular version of faith through government stifles this diversity and undermines the broader Christian witness.

Christian nationalism often conflates loyalty to one's nation with allegiance to Christ, leading to a dangerous mixture of patriotism, faith and political ideology. We see this acutely in Russia; the Russian Orthodox Church has become deeply intertwined with the state under President Vladimir Putin. The church promotes a narrative that positions Russia as a "Christian nation" with a unique divine mission, often framing loyalty to the Russian state as loyalty to God. This conflation has led to the suppression of other religious and secular viewpoints, and the Orthodox Church has been used to support government policies, including military actions like the annexation of Crimea. The blend of Russian nationalism and Orthodox Christianity has made it difficult for many to separate national pride from religious devotion.

This blurring of loyalty to Christ with national identity or political affiliation may be less overt in the West, but it remains significant in some countries, and it's on the increase in others. For example, The Pew Research Center reports that 85% of White evangelical Protestants in the U.S. identify with or lean toward the Republican Party. Although Canadian evangelicals are not as politically homogenous as their U.S. counterparts, their increasing alignment with the Conservative Party mirrors a broader rightward shift among evangelical- charismatics in the West. Evangelicals in Canada do not wield the same political power as in the U.S., but their influence has been growing within conservative political spaces.

Christians tend to vote more broadly across the political spectrum in other nations where I have lived, such as New Zealand and the United Kingdom. There are Christian MPs and politicians representing parties from the right, the left, and everything in between. We can learn from these nations, where Christian engagement in politics reflects a diversity of thought that aligns with a broader understanding of faith's role in public life.

Our allegiance is to God's Kingdom, not to any earthly party or leader. Christian nationalism distorts this by making love of country or political party synonymous with love of God. This can lead to idolatry—whether of the nation's political party or a leader— and close our eyes to their shortcomings, ultimately undermining the gospel's call to stand counter-culturally and alienating the broader population from the Church of Christ. God doesn't have His man or woman in office. Such pronouncements by Christian leaders and prophetic voices is Christian nationalism.

It's easy to think that we have not been infected by the leaven of Christian nationalism, believing our operating systems are clean and free from its influence. However, the results of the late 2023 PRRI/Brookings Christian Nationalism Survey¹ challenge that assumption by revealing how widespread this mindset has become.

The PRRI report found that white evangelical Protestants are the group most supportive of Christian nationalist views, with 64% either sympathising with or adhering to these beliefs. They are more likely than other religious groups to believe that the U.S. should be declared a Christian nation, that U.S. laws should be based on Christian values, and that being Christian is central to being truly American. Evangelicals also strongly supported the idea that Christians are called to exercise dominion over American society (I will get into why these are fair indicators of Christian nationalism in my next post).

Apparently, these are not just fringe ideas; they are mainstream among evangelicals in America. And while the study is U.S.-focused, I believe it offers a reflective mirror for us in other nations. Evangelical-charismatic Christians across the globe may not be as different as we think.

Jesus warned His disciples to be careful of the leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees (Matthew 16:6). Leaven, in this context, represents an unseen yet pervasive influence—slowly shaping how people think and act.

Based on indicators like the PRRI report, the leaven of nationalism has pretty much leavened the whole lump of our slice of the church. Like a Trojan horse, we have welcomed it into our midst, thinking it's the magic bullet to solve our country's problems. It invites us to bend our knees and kiss its ring of power but with devastating consequences.

Those who have drunk deeply of its cup have been infected with a virus that is messing with our spiritual operating systems. And the fruit of this is plain to see. Did you ever stop to think how nearly every nationally recognised U.S. prophet got the 2020 election results wrong? Christian Nationalism.

I wonder if the reason our segment of the church is losing its influence in the world is not because of the devil's schemes but because God Himself has had to quarantine us from the rest of the population until our systems are cleansed of this virus (It's just a thought?). When a computer is infected with a virus, it needs to be isolated from the network to prevent further damage. Could it be that God is allowing this period of reduced influence as a form of quarantine to protect His broader mission and purify our hearts?

In contrast, other quarters of the church, such as the contemplative, Orthodox, and other non-nationalistic streams, are growing. They have not bent the knee to nationalism and continue to demonstrate a vibrant, humble faith that reaches the world through service and grace, not through vying for political power. These expressions of faith should remind us that God's Kingdom continues to advance—without the need for Christians to wield political power.

As Gandhi said of the church in the last century, the world says of us today, "I like your Christ; I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." What Gandhi saw in the last century, the world sees in us today. When the church genuinely looks like Jesus, people run toward us, recognising their need for a Saviour. The world can tell the difference between Christians who reflect Jesus and those who don't. It's a sobering thought that should bring us to our knees in repentance and humility.  

Here's the hard truth: if nationalism has leavened our faith, then repentance is the only way forward. We need to come before God with humility, acknowledging that we may have allowed political agendas to cloud our Kingdom perspective. Jesus didn't come to set up a theocracy through government power—He came to establish a Kingdom not of this world, one that advances through sacrificial love, grace, and service.
Are we ready to re-align with that vision? Are we willing to detox from the virus of nationalism and reclaim our first love, Christ's Kingdom and His righteousness?

As we see the increasing alignment between certain Christian groups and specific political parties, it's worth asking: Are we being led more by the pursuit of political influence than by our call to be salt and light to the world? When our political identity becomes indistinguishable from our faith, how does this impact our witness to the world? In Part 3, we'll look at how Jesus redefined power and what that means for us today. I will also explain why these are nationalist perspectives, but for now, let the report's highlights sink in.

NOTES:
^{1. PRRI/Brookings Christian Nationalism Survey: https://www.prri.org/research/a-christian-nation-understanding-the-threat-of-christian-nationalism-to-american-democracy-and-culture/}