Christianity has been a cornerstone of American society for a long time. From the earliest Puritan settlers to modern evangelical movements, faith has shaped the nation’s cultural values, moral debates and political ideals.
This is evident throughout U.S. history, from abolitionists invoking the Bible to oppose slavery to the Civil Rights Movement, where Black churches became the backbone of social change. Religion and politics have always intersected and influenced each other, sometimes for good, sometimes for harm.
But influence is not the same thing as identity. Christianity can influence politics, but it is not politics itself. That distinction, which has always been fragile, feels especially threatened today.
In the aftermath of Charlie Kirk’s death and President Donald Trump’s continued rollout of policies he brands as “Christian-focused,” such as calling Americans to gather in groups of 10 for weekly prayers ahead of the nation's 250th anniversary celebration, the White House Faith Office, the Task Force to Eradicate Anti-Christian Bias, the Religious Liberty Commission and the expansion of prayer in schools, the lines between religion and politics have blurred more than ever.
Across social media and in churches nationwide, there has been a repeated message: to be a true Christian is to be conservative, and to be conservative is to be Christian.
Trump has not only advanced these initiatives at home, but also on the global stage. At the United Nations this week, Trump declared Christianity is the world’s “most persecuted religion,” subtly casting conservative Christians as embattled victims in need of political protection. In doing so, he reinforced the idea that spiritual identity and partisan loyalty are inseparable — both presented as under siege, both requiring political defense.
This framing distorts both spheres. While religion may influence politics, religion should not be the reason why political views are shaped and formed, and vice versa. However, when Christianity and conservatism are equated and demonstrated nationwide, faith becomes a political tool, stripped of its spiritual value and holiness, while politics is elevated to a kind of religious devotion.
The symbolism of this collapse was on full display during Trump’s post-inauguration Liberty Ball. At the event, MAGA artist Vanessa Horabuena speed-painted a portrait of Trump to the praise song “The Blessing” by Kari Jobe. The painting showed Trump gazing toward a cross, echoing traditional images of Jesus carrying the sins of the world.
This was more than kitsch; it was a direct affront to Christianity’s core commandment: “You shall have no other gods before Me.” Portraying a political leader in the posture of Christ revealed how far the line between worship and political theater has collapsed.
Even in tragedy, the blending persists. In the wake of Kirk’s recent assassination, many of his followers and his family alike have idolized Kirk as a martyr who was killed because he “had an explicit worldview of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and he shared it everywhere he went.” His death has been weaponized to demonize the left, transforming grief into a partisan spectacle. At this point, religion is no longer worship or faith, but a stage for political theater.
And this collapse isn’t just cultural; it’s institutional. In July, the IRS announced pastors can openly endorse political candidates from the pulpit, reversing decades of church-state norms. What was once considered an overstep has now been legalized, binding faith and partisanship even tighter.
So then, what explains this dangerous blending of faith and politics? A major driving force behind this phenomenon is the rise of White Christian nationalism. At its core, this ideology insists America was founded as a nation for white Christians and must remain that way. It fuses religious devotion with national identity and racial dominance, suggesting that being a good Christian and being a true American are one and the same.
This ideology is not just a fringe sentiment; it is a political project. By narrowing Christianity to the identity of one group, White Christian nationalism weaponizes faith to advance cultural and political power. And when leaders — pastors to senators — reinforce this myth by equating Christianity with conservatism, they erase the diversity within the faith itself. Believers who emphasize compassion for immigrants, care for the poor or stewardship of creation, are pushed to the margins, told that their Christianity is somehow less authentic.
The consequences of this collapse are profound. For the church, the danger is idolatry: elevating political leaders to near-divine status and allowing the gospel to be overshadowed by campaign slogans. For democracy, the danger is absolutism: if politics becomes an extension of religious identity, compromise and pluralism, the very life of democratic society, are dismissed as weakness or betrayal.
Faith can and should inform our moral vision for public life. It has done so throughout American history, often at its most transformative moments. But when faith becomes indistinguishable from partisan loyalty, it loses its independence and credibility. A church that cannot or will not critique the leaders it aligns with becomes little more than a mouthpiece for power.
So where should the line between faith and politics be drawn?
Faith should follow the teachings of the Bible and other religious texts to inspire believers to seek justice, show compassion and uphold human dignity. It can and should be a guide to how individuals live their lives and shape the conscience of a nation. But it must never be reduced to a tool of partisan identity or racial dominance. Christianity, and faith as a whole, is larger than any party, broader than any ideology and deeper than any political agenda.
If the church is to remain a voice of moral clarity, it must reclaim that independence. And if American democracy is to survive this age of division, it must resist the temptation to sanctify partisan power. Faith and politics will always intersect, but the boundary between them must remain visible. Confusing the two not only undermines religion’s sacred purpose; it endangers the health of the country itself.
Sungyun is a Freshman studying Journalism and English. Do you agree that Trump’s administration is crossing the line between faith and politics? Send all comments to opinion@dailycardinal.com
