The New Era of Religion and Politics

Hi and happy Sunday.

Call it a vibe shift, a resetting, a realignment, a big sort, or something else. Whatever moniker you choose, there’s really no denying the U.S. is undergoing tectonic shifts in politics.

On the surface, that shift may not seem as pronounced for Americans of faith—particularly Christians, who, according to some brand new Pew Research findings, still closely align with the Republican Party. But in this week’s Dispatch Faith, author and former Obama White House staffer Michael Wear argues there’s a different shift—what he calls a “paradigm shift”—underway with regard to how politicians may seek to relate to the faithful. The question is whether that shift will hinge more on what politicians, such as Donald Trump, want or on what the faithful want.

Michael Wear: Who’s ‘Friendly to Religion’? That’s No Longer the Question.

There is much debate about whether Donald Trump will irrevocably disrupt our political parties or America’s role on the global stage. It will likely take some time to come to firm conclusions on these matters. However, when it comes to how we think and talk about religion and American politics, I am convinced that there is no going back. The old paradigm no longer fits, and will not snap back into place when Trump’s presidency is over. He has remade the relationship between religion and politics in America. 

For at least 45 years, the dominant framework for thinking about faith and politics could be summed up by a Pew Research question that asked whether Americans viewed each political party as “friendly to religion.” For the last 25 years at least, Americans have viewed Republicans as more friendly to religion than Democrats. This has even been true for many voters who supported Democrats. In the 21st century, the political dynamics around religion both contributed to, and fed on, what was called “the God Gap”—the Republican Party’s advantage among religious Americans, especially those who attend church regularly. 

The political successes and failures of Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, John Kerry, Barack Obama, John McCain,  Mitt Romney, Hillary Clinton, Joe Biden, and Donald Trump cannot be assessed without understanding these basic dynamics. 

But this era of religion and politics in America is over, and Trump ended it. He has confounded the question of “friendliness” to religion, and its meaning has essentially been made illegible. The question is what new paradigm will emerge. 

To be clear, I am not saying that the status of these dynamics has radically changed. I would imagine that if you polled the “friendly to religion” question today, Republicans would still hold the advantage. When it comes to weekly attenders, it appears the God Gap grew in 2024 compared to 2020. These facts still matter—though it seems Democrats are always pining for the election to arrive in which they do not. 

What has changed is that these modes of analysis have lost their explanatory value, which didn’t happen overnight.

Ronald Reagan kicked off the previous era when he told a gathering of conservative religious leaders: “Now, I know this is a non-partisan gathering, and so I know that you can’t endorse me, but I only brought that up because I want you to know that I endorse you and what you’re doing.”

Reagan was referring to something called the Johnson Amendment, a provision which prohibits nonprofit organizations, including religious organizations and churches, from endorsing political candidates. 

But since Trump first ran for office, he has asserted himself with religious voters by promising to defend them—while undermining their moral and substantive credibility. 

During his first presidential campaign, Trump called for ending the Johnson Amendment even though there was no broad, concerted advocacy to do so. Why? He wanted to fundamentally shift the relationship between religion and politicians. It’s typical political rhetoric to say you “stand with Israel” or that you “stand with Jewish Americans against antisemitism.” Trump offers a different claim: If you fail to support him, you hate your own religion. Trump wants to judge religion in light of his political interest, but detests a religious judgment on him or his politics. Politicians have long appealed to religious voters, but Trump wants religious voters to appeal to and accommodate him.

Have you noticed that the term “values voters” is essentially absent from national political discourse since Trump solidified his hold on the GOP? It’s not because the media is more progressive or antagonistic toward social conservatives now than they were pre-Trump. It’s because Trump’s case was not based on shared values.  George W. Bush said at a presidential debate that his favorite philosopher was Jesus Christ. Donald Trump told a crowd of Christian conservatives that he does not need God’s forgiveness. He rejected Jesus’ teaching to love your enemies at the National Prayer Breakfast. He does and says these things all while insisting on his audience’s religious obligation to support him. In so doing, Trump fundamentally disrupted the typical understanding of what large, influential swaths of religious voters were looking for in a politician, and how a politician must approach them. It’s hard to sustain the moniker “values voters” when the candidate receiving the support of those voters regularly disregards, or even flagrantly undermines, those values. 

Still, it’s the president’s reelection that requires voters to put away notions of returning to the old paradigm. It took an extra four years, but with Trump’s second administration underway, the leader of GOP—the party that has been viewed as more “friendly to religion”—is casting aspersions on the very idea of religious organizations receiving federal money, and openly attacking the credibility and sincerity of the Catholic Church regarding work it has done for centuries. 

So how could the question of “friendliness to religion” still be explanatory given all that?  Presidents have traditionally (though not always, of course) shown respect and restraint toward religious leaders, even where there were profound disagreements. With Trump, there is no respect or restraint. He did not even pretend to find anything of value in Bishop Mariann Budde’s sermon on unity and mercy—he and his team bashed her. In the “friendly to religion” era, a perfunctory “I agree with her that unity and mercy are needed, even if we might disagree on what that requires” would have been the response. No more. 

Not even the pope provokes magnanimity or respect from Trump and his White House. When asked about Pope Francis’ letter to American bishops regarding God’s care for migrants and the dignity of the human person, Trump’s border czar, Tom Homan, responded: “I got harsh words for the pope: the pope ought to fix the Catholic Church … and focus on his work, and leave border enforcement to us.” He accused the pope of hypocrisy because Vatican City is surrounded by a wall. 

In terms of actual policy, President George W. Bush created the Office of Faith-Based and Community Initiatives, partially in response to concerns that Christian and other faith-based groups had been discriminated against and locked out of government funding to serve in partnership with their government. Now, Trump’s staffers are specifically targeting religious organizations that receive government funding as receiving “illegal payments,” and sharing a former Trump appointees’ allegation that they amount to “money laundering operation.” Religious groups have been defamed and have had their integrity questioned in the name of  “government efficiency.” 

Legitimate religion for Trump is religion that can be used by and provide value to him. He views religious voters less as a constituency to attract than a territory to claim and refashion for his purposes. And to be truly religious is to accept his patronage. Reagan proclaimed his Republican Party was for Christianity; Donald Trump has offered a different paradigm: that religion is for MAGA. 

But Trump’s new paradigm doesn’t have to be what replaces the old one. The paradigm Trump offers requires a set of circumstances, real and perceived, that make it plausible. To seek a protector, you must feel you need—and therefore prioritize—protection. To cut a deal, you must feel sufficient anxiety about the future without one. To seek refuge with someone who will make light of what you believe, you must feel that discomfort to be more desirable than the alternatives on offer. 

What Trump promises is a future for Christianity, while claiming that the future he is promising is the only one on offer. Eric Trump claimed his father “literally saved Christianity.” During the last presidential campaign, Donald Trump told a gathering of Christians that “in four years, you don’t have to vote again. We’ll have it fixed so good, you’re not going to have to vote.” 

If Trump is to be successful in establishing this new paradigm, he’ll need help. Both Democrats and the broader cultural and media environment (and others) will have to cede the ground Trump wants in order to grant him his claim of guardianship. For Trump’s approach to work, outside voices will need to say that the real problem is that Trump has given Christians too much power, that he likes them too much. They’ll need to accuse Trump of being a “Christian nationalist,” a term the majority of Americans indicate they don’t understand, without ever being clear about what role they think Christians ought to have in the life of the nation. They will need to affirm his view of religious voters as just another constituency. They can affirm this paradigm through either antagonism or indifference—anything that treats religious voters as a group that can either be granted or denied political favor or attention. Either approach will reaffirm the essential framework. 

There is one way I know to contest Trump’s framing of religion and politics. Instead of a paradigm that centers status, we need one that centers service. Instead of a paradigm that centers affiliation, we need a paradigm that centers relationship and reality. Instead of a paradigm that centers Christian identity, we need a paradigm that welcomes Christian contribution. Democrats do not need their own partisan form of religion—indeed, Christians should reject ideological capture and attempts by political parties to claim Christ for themselves. Christianity should not be viewed in our civic life as either useless or as something to be used, but as an essential source of civic vitality and well-being. Politicians should look to Christians not as mascots, but as partners and contributors to the public good. The task for all civic leaders of goodwill—all civic leaders who understand that if you don’t have a vision for the good, you only leave a vacuum for the malicious—is to cast a positive vision for the role Christianity can play in America’s future. A role of service. A role of welcomed contribution. 

That said, even now, with the immense cultural power of politics in our lives, it is not politicians who will have the primary say on these questions. Christians themselves will have to decide. They will have to speak for themselves. The paradigm for this new age of religion in politics in America will not ultimately be determined by how friendly politicians are to the religious, but how loving Christians are to the public.

Knox Thames: Religious Persecution is Part of Russia’s Battle Plan 

Hours before Friday’s Oval Office blowup between Ukrainian President Volodymy Zelensky, U.S. President Donald Trump, and U.S. Vice President J.D. Vance, scholar and former State Department special envoy Knox Thames was meeting with a groups of Ukrainian pastors who had come to the U.S. to advocate for continuing U.S. support. For the site today, Thames writes about their message to him: that Russia’s war is about eradicating Ukraine’s identity, which helps explain some of the religious persecution we’ve seen in the conflict. 

The Ukrainian delegation carried three key messages for America’s faithful. First, they wanted to dispel Russian misinformation: Ukrainians enjoy full religious freedom. Second, they sought to correct the misplaced concerns about persecution by the Ukrainian government; the real persecution is happening in Russian-occupied territories. Finally, and most desperately, they begged for help in recovering the 20,000 Ukrainian children kidnapped by Russia.

One evangelical leader put it bluntly: This war is not about land, which Russia has plenty of. This war is about identity. Russia wants to erase Ukrainian identity from existence. It is an existential struggle.

The pastors called on the U.S. to live up to its values.

As one Baptist leader put it Friday, “The United States has been blessed by God to be a light to the world. By helping Ukraine, you are being the United States. We are praying for a coalition of good to stand against the coalition of evil—Russia, China, Iran, and others.”

Ukraine’s fight is an existential battle, but most Americans do not realize it. Ukraine is fighting for its survival, but also for the very values that America holds dear—freedom, democracy, and faith. If the world fails Ukraine now, it will not be long before Putin and his allies set their sights on other targets. When asked about trusting Putin, the pastors I met with were unequivocal. “All of history speaks against that stupidity,” one said. They urged America to not rely on promises from Putin.

Read the whole thing.

The Dispatch Faith Podcast

Michael Wear joined me on  this week’s Dispatch Faith podcast to discuss his essay and the evolving relationship between Christianity and the public square, particularly in light of recent political changes. He reflected on his journey to the White House, the role of faith-based initiatives, and some topline takeaways from the newly released Pew Research Center Religious Landscape Study. These weekly conversations with Dispatch Faith contributors are available on our members-only podcast feed, The Skiff.

Another Sunday Read

Deepa Bahrath reports for the Associated Press on a Muslim community in Los Angeles that due to recent wildfires lost its mosque—and many members’ homes—just weeks before Ramadan, which began this week. “For many, the mosque has been a second home. Salah Eddine Benatia, an Algerian immigrant, has been in the country for only three months. He discovered Al-Taqwa online and had been riding the bus from Pasadena for prayers. ‘I felt so warmly welcomed by this community,’ he said. ‘I miss home a lot especially around Ramadan. I was so sad when I heard the mosque burned down. Being here gives me a sense of being with family.’ Farzana Asaduzzaman, who has lived in the neighborhood since 2016, said Ramadan at the mosque has always been ‘a family affair.’ ‘Everyone brings food, we fast, we break our fast together,’ she said. ‘The kids would play Uno, make arts and crafts, and assemble Eid gift bags. We would put up heaters in the outside area, sit down, sip hot chai and talk for hours.’” But a local school is providing space for the community to worship during Ramadan, Bharat reported. “With Ramadan just days a way, their volunteer imam, Junaid Aasi, had good news to share. Clad in a white robe, black jacket and prayer cap, he walked onto the plush blue prayer rugs and placed a small karaoke machine in the middle of the multipurpose room at New Horizon Islamic School. Aasi announced the school was offering this space for four nights each week during Ramadan. There were gasps of relief, and utterances of ‘Alhamdulillah,’ an Arabic phrase that means ‘praise be to God.’”

A Good Word

Lester Holt announced last week that he will step down as anchor of NBC Nightly News later this year. As has been covered in other outlets, Holt is a devout Christian and has credited his faith in helping him perform his job. A few years ago he penned a first-person essay for Guideposts magazine about his faith and the upbringing he still credits. “Church on Sundays? No arguing about that. My parents were two-times-on-Sunday-and-Bible-study-on-Wednesdays folks, and they remain faithful. That was the model I had. Dad was an elder in the church and a natural-born counselor, with a reassuring, calm and incredibly insightful manner. I can recall him holed up for hours on the phone or behind closed doors helping someone through a personal crisis. It was a good upbringing for a future journalist, not just the faith aspect but being around someone who was such a good listener. Dad is very level-headed. My parents both have strong values and a reliable moral compass. They taught us accountability, responsibility and compassion. Dinner table conversation was always something to look forward to (along with Mom’s pot roast!). All sides of issues were explored. Intelligent discussion and debate. It’s something I still have a passion for. I want to hear other points of view and find great value in having my thinking challenged. A good news broadcast, I think, does just that. It compels us to examine other sides of an issue. I can also thank my parents for giving us a good grounding in the Bible. I credit my church upbringing, in part, with helping me become comfortable working in front of a crowd. Valuable training for a future broadcaster.” He concluded the essay with a story about telling viewers of a program he was hosting he had to close quickly in order to get to a worship service. “I don’t know what viewers thought, but Mom was quick to say, ‘Lester, you just showed the world that you are not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ.’ Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad. I wouldn’t be where I am without you.”