Before we dive in: I’ve spent more time on today’s post than any other. I listened back through the recording taken from the event on January 26th… several times. I asked friends, who attended the event, to read over it and offer feedback. At the end of the day, I want to be fair and extend grace. But, I’m also reminded that Jesus’ harshest criticisms were to leaders in the church who misrepresented God, burdened others with hypocrisy, and led people astray. My hope is that this post reflects both truth and grace—honest in critique yet rooted in love. I’ve taken great care to ensure accuracy, sought multiple perspectives, and approached this with a heart for clarity rather than controversy. So, before we dive in, know that this isn’t written lightly.
I attended the Calvary Chapel’s Civics + Culture class on January 26th with a friend who is a member of the church, along with two others who don’t attend, but have a shared interest in the conversation around political engagement within the institution of church. This was a two hour event and to cover every aspect of what was said would take me days to unpack. So for the purposes of this post, I want to focus on something that doesn’t necessarily get much attention these days.
But it should.
In recent years, a growing number of American evangelical pastors have used their pulpits as platforms for political influence, blurring the lines between faith and partisan advocacy in ways that challenge long-standing legal and ethical boundaries. With unwavering confidence they present their own interpretations
not as perspectives, but as undeniable truths. Throughout the first hour of this particular class, this church leader stood on the stage not just as a teacher of scripture but as an arbiter of political and cultural reality, weaving his personal convictions seamlessly into his message. Rather than fostering discussion, his words functioned as declarations, leaving little room for nuance or dissent. Ideas that might have invited thoughtful engagement were instead delivered as definitive pronouncements, reinforcing a particular worldview without acknowledging its complexities or the validity of differing perspectives.
I will be covering a few of what I consider the more problematic comments, and positions, expressed by their leadership… as they relate to politics and culture. This isn’t a dissection of theological interpretation, or ideology, which would also be an intriguing topic to explore, but rather a look at how these statements influence public perception, policy discussions, and cultural narratives.
At the end of the day, TWO big issues are always front and center for me when it comes to the conversations around Christian Nationalism: the posture our church leaders are taking when presenting information (and the accuracy of that information), and potential violations of the Johnson Amendment of 1954. Today’s post addresses the former and next week’s post will cover the latter.
I also want to underscore that I took voice memos of all the presentations so I could go back and report on what was said, which is important for both accuracy and integrity.
In the opening remarks, it was underscored that the “marching orders” for the Civics + Culture ministry for the next four years came from a burden that was placed on their hearts four years earlier, specifically in September 2020 when Charlie Kirk came “to basically kick off the ministry.” For those who read the post about my Sunday morning visit to Calvary, you might remember the reference below:
Side note: Hosting Charlie Kirk at a Sunday morning church service, under a talk titled We the Thinking People—framed with imagery of the American flag and U.S. Capitol—signals a troubling fusion of faith and nationalism, replacing theological reflection with political ideology and redefining the church as a platform for partisan influence rather than spiritual community.
During the speaker’s explanation of world events during this time and the subsequent four years, he outlined a series of developments that, in his view, reflected a broader societal and political shift. He described organized efforts to escalate unrest, as well as government overreach, and ideological transformations affecting institutions and culture. The following list, while not exhaustive, highlights some of the things that were said at Calvary’s event on January 26th:
- Referencing the George Floyd riots, he said that secret NGOs were delivering palettes of bricks all across the US to help instigate destruction.
- The city of Seattle “fell… conquered by Antifa”.
- Referencing the “transgender madness”, he said we have lost all understanding of what gender is.
- The establishment of “race Marxism” throughout all of our institutions, specifically referencing DEI and Intersectionality.
- “We had to face a stolen election, in my opinion.”
- “We had to endure the invasion of our southern boarder.”
- “Trump supporters were put on terrorist watch lists at enemy of the state.”
- He inaccurately stated that within the first week of taking office for the second time, 118 Executive Orders were signed by Trump. (The actual number is 36.)
I’ll admit, after hearing a few of these statements, I turned to my friends and whispered, “Did he really just say that?” Some of the commentary was unsurprising, but some caught me off guard—statements that were outright false, conspiracy theories long debunked, and propaganda disguised as truth. Some were merely opinions, yet they were presented with the certainty of undeniable fact. I spent HOURS researching all of these comments and the rabbit roles were seemingly endless and disconcerting. In an environment where statements, no matter how unfounded, are delivered with unwavering confidence, they become self-reinforcing, shaping perceptions without scrutiny.
When propaganda is wrapped in the language of truth and authority, it ceases to be just misinformation; it becomes a tool of influence, steering entire communities toward a singular narrative while discouraging critical thinking. The result is an echo chamber where ideology replaces inquiry, and the need for certainty overrides the pursuit of truth.
Some, if not all, of these statements touch on topics that are deeply personal to many of us, shaped by our experiences, values, and the information we consume from sources we trust. (Whether that trust is warranted is a completely different conversation.) But no matter what “position” you hold on any of these issues, I keep coming back to this: Jesus teaches us to be curious about what people believe. He didn’t avoid hard conversations—He asked questions, told stories, and met people where they were, even when their perspectives were flawed or uncomfortable.
Jesus did it with grace… and without arrogance, contempt, or condemnation.
And while it’s natural for people of faith to engage with societal and cultural issues, doing so in a manner that aligns with Jesus’ teachings requires a posture of humility, love, and a commitment to gospel-centered transformation rather than political or ideological conquest. Bridging these two perspectives—concern for the world and the call to Christlike living—should be the goal for those seeking to follow Jesus faithfully in turbulent times.
If evangelical communities are to engage in meaningful cultural and political discourse, it is essential that they move beyond abstract debates and genuinely listen to the lived experiences of those whose realities they so often condemn. Without this willingness to sit face-to-face with the people behind the policies they oppose, their convictions risk being shaped by assumptions rather than understanding, leading not to truth and compassion, but to misrepresentation and harm.
Since attending the January 26th class, I’ve asked three members of Calvary to share their thoughts on issues related to gender identity, and they openly did. After listening to their perspectives, I then asked a follow-up question: Had they ever sat down and had a real conversation with someone who is transgender?
All three of them said no.
And that, right there, is a huge part of the problem.
It’s easy to form strong opinions from a distance—to debate concepts, make assumptions, or even pass judgment without ever engaging with the actual people those discussions affect. This is what the Pharisees did, and it’s antithetical to the way Jesus lived his life… and calls us to live ours. Real understanding doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It happens in conversation. It happens when we listen to lived experiences, when we move beyond rhetoric and into relationship. And perhaps the most crucial part is this: those three people were wrong about so much — Not because they were intentionally cruel or malicious, but because their understanding was shaped by secondhand narratives, assumptions, and a lack of direct experience. They spoke with certainty about things they had never personally encountered, drawing conclusions from sermons, news segments, and cultural talking points rather than from real conversations with real people.
This is where the disconnect happens. When we talk about people without talking to them, we risk getting it wrong—misrepresenting their experiences, oversimplifying complex realities, and ultimately reinforcing harmful misunderstandings. These three individuals may have believed they were standing on truth, but their certainty crumbled under the weight of their own admitted lack of interaction.
The question we have to ask ourselves is this: Are we truly seeking truth, or just reaffirming what we think we already know? Because if we’re not willing to engage, to listen, and to challenge our own perspectives, then we aren’t actually pursuing truth at all—we’re just clinging to comfort.
Okay… there’s no easy way to transition here, but I want to set up next week’s post and potential violations of the Johnson Amendment of 1954. Both presenters had a clear animosity towards the Biden administration, as well as local political changes, like “losing Red Bank” to Democrats, and their frustration was evident. The first presenter even went so far as to say that he believes you can be a Christian and “fit inside the Republican Party” but cannot be a Democrat and a Christian. He went on to say that if you know everything about today’s Democratic Party you cannot be for that and for Christ.
During one of his segments, he also talked about how families have been torn apart because of this and attributing it to a level of Satanic activity in our nation that we haven’t seen in our lifetime. His claim that Satanic activity is at an all-time high in the nation, while reflecting his deep concerns about moral and cultural shifts, risks leading believers toward a response driven by fear and division rather than faith and trust in God’s sovereignty. If the battle is already won in Christ, as the Bible teaches (John 16:33), then the role of Christians is not to fight a war against society but to live as faithful witnesses to God’s love and truth.
He also invoked war/battle terminology and symbolism stating that “We’ve won some elections, we’ve won some battles, but we haven’t won the war.” This perspective, while resonant in certain political and cultural contexts, does not align with the teachings of Jesus. Christ’s message was not one of earthly conquest, but of peace, reconciliation, and the transformation of hearts. When Jesus spoke of battles and struggles, they were spiritual in nature, centered on overcoming sin, extending love, and embodying the values of God’s kingdom.
Honestly, I feel like most of these leaders are more focused on the Jesus who returns with a sword than the Jesus who walked among us 2,000 years ago.
They seem drawn to the imagery of power, judgment, and triumphant victory—Jesus as the warrior King, coming to set things right with divine force. They preach about righteousness in terms of battle lines, about standing firm against the enemy, about a Christ who will one day return to conquer and rule. And while those themes exist in scripture, they fixate on them at the expense of something just as crucial: the Jesus who already came.
The Jesus who sat with sinners. Who touched the untouchable. Who wept with the grieving. Who challenged the religious elite not with force, but with truth spoken in love. The Jesus who laid down power instead of seizing it, who chose a cross instead of a throne.
When leaders focus more on the Jesus of Revelation than the Jesus of the Gospels, they risk missing the heart of his message. They start seeing people as opponents to defeat rather than neighbors to love. They speak of culture wars instead of kingdom invitations. They wield scripture like a weapon rather than a source of life.
But Jesus didn’t call us to win a war—he called us to love our enemies, to serve, to seek justice with humility. If we lose sight of that Jesus, we aren’t following him at all. We’re just waiting for a version of him that fits our desire for control.
For instance, in John 18:36, Jesus tells Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But now my kingdom is from another place.” This statement highlights that Christ’s mission was not about political or cultural dominance but about spiritual redemption. His followers were not called to engage in ideological warfare but to spread love, grace, and truth.
Additionally, in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:9), Jesus blesses the peacemakers, not those who seek victory over perceived enemies. His teachings emphasize loving one’s enemies (Matthew 5:44), turning the other cheek (Matthew 5:39), and seeking reconciliation over division. Framing cultural shifts as a war to be won can contribute to a mindset of hostility rather than healing, contradicting the call to be ambassadors of Christ’s reconciliation (2 Corinthians 5:18-20).
Moreover, the New Testament consistently presents the idea that the true battle is not against people or institutions, but against spiritual forces (Ephesians 6:12). Paul instructs believers to put on the full armor of God, which consists of truth, righteousness, faith, and peace—not rhetoric of conquest or political struggle.
I can go on with examples, but I think you probably get the point. The next post will talk more about Christian Nationalism, but I think it’s important to underscore the importance of humility in our conversations. If we truly seek truth and unity, we must be mindful not to let partisan politics take root in our churches. I’d go so far as to say that if we’re talking about Republicans and Democrats at all, we’re missing the point.
We’re missing Jesus.
Searching for Jesus in A̶m̶e̶r̶i̶c̶a̶ Chattanooga 