Sorry for the delayed response! I saw your message earlier, but didn’t get a chance to sit with it properly—these questions deserve some thoughtful reflection.
On the Great Awakening shaping our nation:
I agree—it had a significant impact on American society. It didn’t just influence personal religious experience; it also helped shape our collective ideas about liberty, moral responsibility, and even national identity. Some historians argue that the revivals laid the cultural groundwork for the American Revolution by reinforcing the value of individual conscience and resistance to tyranny. So yes, revival and renewal have clearly played a central role in forming the soul of our nation.
That said, the Great Awakening didn’t transform all aspects of society equally. It coexisted with systemic injustices—like slavery and the displacement of Indigenous peoples—which means it stirred spiritual renewal while also leaving deep tensions unresolved. That’s part of what James Davison Hunter touches on in his work. Those who have challenged the cultural reservoir of civic faith have been met with violence historically.
On Christianity as the basis for society, this is a question I’ve wrestled with—and still do. There’s no doubt that Christianity played a foundational role in shaping Western civilization and our form of government. But it’s also true that other societies have adapted certain values and flourished without explicitly Christian foundations.
I wouldn’t say there’s a better alternative out there, but I do think Christianity provides a framework that uniquely allows for freedom of thought and conscience. The real question, though, is what happens when the very system Christianity helped create begins to marginalize or suppress it?
Even the Founding Fathers understood that their experiment depended on a morally grounded citizenry. But how do you sustain virtue in a system increasingly driven by consumerism and self-indulgence? That’s something I’m still trying to work through.
Of course, Christianity can’t be imposed. The moment it is, it loses its true power and becomes counterproductive, working against the very spirit of Christ.
Curious to hear your thoughts—how have you been thinking through these tensions lately? What do you see as the way forward?
If you would allow me, I’d like to push back on the point about slavery and indigenous people. It felt too as if of our culture is imposing an unfair judgment on that culture. There’s a term for that that slips my mind at the moment. It appears, both of those issues have eventually been addressed via genuine Christianity. The complaint is the timing.
To your last question, I don’t see a superior foundation for organizing society other than Biblical Christianity. We should move in that direction. It’s the best choice we have for human flourishing. I know there’s issues with it, but we should be willing to deal with those rather than the issues raised by another worldview.
Thank you for your gracious pushback—I truly believe we need more conversations like this, not fewer.
I think the term you may be reaching for is chronological snobbery or presentism—though I could be wrong. Either way, I understand your concern. While Christianity has certainly been associated with historical injustices, I wholeheartedly agree: it was ultimately faithful Christians who led the charge in correcting those wrongs.
Where I wrestle most is with the entanglement of Christianity and political power. Whenever the faith becomes tethered to the state, it seems to fall into what I’d call the Constantinian temptation—where cultural and political advantages lead people to identify as Christians without being truly converted. The church gains influence, but often at the cost of its integrity.
There’s also the danger of a state church, where government—not Scripture—begins to dictate the terms of faith. As I’ve written (with two more articles coming soon), I think we’ve seen a kind of “generic Christianity” emerge—something broad and vague enough for people to read into it whatever version of “biblical Christianity” they hold. That’s a major challenge: what makes it truly biblical? Whose interpretive framework are we using? And what do we do with the frameworks that diverge?
Personally, I’m not comfortable with the government becoming the interpreter of Scripture for anyone. I don’t mean that condescendingly—please forgive me if it comes across that way. I’m genuinely wrestling with these questions, trying to think them through.
I do believe Christianity provides the strongest moral foundation for a just society—but that foundation has to be built into the hearts of the people. It can’t be manufactured by government fiat. Laws can reflect Judeo-Christian morality, but how are they sustained if the people no longer believe in that morality? What happens when public opinion shifts—as we’ve seen with abortion, marriage, and gender?
I believe what we’re witnessing right now is the last gasp of Christendom—the remnants of a time when Christianity provided the shared moral framework for Western society. That era, for better or worse, is fading. While some are trying to preserve it through political means, I’m not convinced that politics can carry that kind of spiritual weight. Government, at its best, is a limited administrative tool—necessary for maintaining order and justice, but not equipped to define or sustain the moral vision of a people. It cannot create virtue; it can only constrain vice.
What concerns me is the growing trend of people treating their politics religiously—investing ultimate hope, identity, and moral certainty into political ideologies. At the same time, many are treating their religion politically—reducing the gospel to a tool for cultural dominance or partisan gain. This inversion distorts both realms. Politics becomes messianic, and religion becomes utilitarian.
That’s why I believe a missioholistic approach is so vital in this moment. Rather than seeking to recapture influence through power or retreating in fear, we’re called to live as a faithful, transcultural community—rooted in the gospel, shaped by the kingdom, and sent into the world not to conquer it, but to serve it. Missioholism invites us to function as cross-cultural missionaries in our own culture—reading the times, building bridges, and embodying a better story through lives marked by humility, courage, and love.
That means being faithfully present within the political sphere, like Daniel was.
These are hard but necessary conversations, and I deeply value being able to have them like this. I’d love to hear your thoughts—where do you agree, where do you push back? How do you see the path forward?
You are gracious in your response. Thank you. I’ll do my best to continue the conversation in what I hope will be mutually helpful ways.
Your concern of Constantinian temptation is valid. In my view, I will take it. I’d rather have that problem than the problems we have now. The overarching aim of our society would be in a better trajectory even though there will always be bad actors. Nothing is perfect this side of heaven. It would be better though.
State church is something our founders were specifically concerned about and made structural guards against. We would have to go against the constitution to establish one. I think they were wise in what they did. As a result they were able to put a country together that consisted of Protestants, Catholics and free churches.
As a result, the government wouldn’t become the arbiter of truth. We have three branches of government that serve as a check and balance to each other. Additionally, Christianity has a high value for the pursuit of truth, free speech and respect for the conscience.
I’m happy to read that you agree that Christianity provides the strongest moral foundation for a just society. It’s true that it’s not ultimately fulfilled unless Christ is ruling and reigning in the human heart. The aim however is still valid. The organization of society around Christian principles is still proper. In that kind of society our need for a Savior would still be evident, maybe even more so than in our current cultural mores. I see this as a net positive.
Your concern about it no longer being sustained because people don’t believe it anymore is exactly the situation we are in. Christianity is despised, the values are mocked, the public square is barred from its voice. We have all the results of that shift in our towns, neighbourhoods and homes. The question we have is what to do about that. I’m arguing that Christianity is the best value system to organize society and we should return to that.
You are correct about the limits of government in affecting society. I believe the statement about politics being downstream of culture is correct. We are right to prioritize matters of the heart and culture. This is through faithful witnessing in our personal lives. We agree there.
Obviously, it’s ill-advised to believe that politics or government will solve all our ills. Just because there are some people doing that, and doing it in a foolish manner, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be involved at all.
Here’s my argument. Our ancestors spilled their blood to give us the privilege of self-government as free citizens. We owe it to them to pass that very precious privilege to the next generation. They did it out of a fear of God and love for each other. This is noble and right and to be carried on as tradition. Will it be perfect? No.
Will it replace what we as Christians are to do in our witness? No. Will it cause people to become Christians? No. Will there be unfortunate side effects? Yes.
But, there’s no better way to organize society! It’s noble and right and appropriate to bequeath to the next generation. It requires wisdom and courage to articulate and implement. It requires faith to believe that we have an answer, something very good to share in the public square that will make things better. I honestly believe that if you are a mature Christian
Daniel is a phenomenal example. His three friends are too. So is Esther. The Bible has given us examples of faithful witness including in the public square.
Thank you for inviting me into this conversation. It’s been a good challenge for me to sit and think and write like this. Thank you. I hope it’s helpful.
Travis, I can’t find my comment that I wanted to get back to but I’ll give a shot at what I think I was going to say 😆
I see a distinction between patriotism & nationalism (I’ve written about this somewhere). The short of it is this–patriotism is love for one’s country that is open-eyed & not myopic in its view of the nation & its culture. Nationalism tends to be myopic & somewhat of a “blind” allegiance. I also think a nationalist generally sees their nation as best at the cost or slighting of other nations, kind of like avid fandom.
“Americanism” was often exported around the world in connection to the Gospel. I’ve seen this over & over in my 25+ yrs of cross-cultural ministry. The consequence of that is it interferes with biblical morality when it clashes with cultural morality in other nations or people groups. I remember hearing, “that’s just an American view….” When I showed them in the Word, especially from an Old Testament book, it was more difficult for them to challenge the biblical truth. But there was a distrust nevertheless. Here’s where example & cultural bridge building is needed. Also, respect & appreciation for the people & their culture you’re engaging with the gospel. Too often lacking by well-intentioned missionaries, but mostly not the veterans who engage rather than challenge people & their culture.
When we started reintegrating into our home culture (USA) again in 2005, I realized a significant shift had taken place in the church (more like getting stuck in the 80s 😏) & in America. The culture was becoming a post-Christian nation. Not because of being more multicultural, although that had its impact, but because the church became weak, lacking intentional, personal discipleship.
But here’s where I see a need for caution in condemning all that’s said regarding Christian nationalism. Our nation is based on a Judeo-Christian ethnic, with a side of enlightenment philosophy. Yes, we are a hybrid culture & nation but our moral foundation is Judeo-Christian, reaching back to the Magna Carta & the 10 Commandments. Yes, there are the deists & naturalists, but let’s face it, they don’t have a firm base for their “morality”. The Enlightenment became the modern base of moral relativism.
The Gospel, of course, is founded on a fulfillment of the Old Covenant & establishing of the New Covenant.
So… yes, Christian nationalism can be somewhat blind in its nostalgia & the Kingdom of God holds no earthly territory, but the restoration of a moral element as the base of our culture is biblical, it’s just not ‘Merica or gospel-MAGA.
I hope this ramble makes some sense & relates to whatever I originally pushed back on 😉. Blessings on ya!
I appreciate the distinction you’re making between patriotism and nationalism—that’s something I plan to tackle in the final article of the series, especially how we can faithfully be both patriotic and Christian without conflating the two.
I also resonate with what you said about the confusion between American, cultural, and biblical morality. I call this the “affirm and challenge” principle. The gospel always affirms something within every culture—it finds touchpoints that can be built upon—but it also challenges every culture by exposing its idols and calling people to allegiance to Christ. That’s what gives it both credibility and power: it’s not just contextualized; it’s prophetic.
This is part of what I’ve categorized under cultural engagement in the broader framework of missioholism. Within the cultural engagement umbrella, I break things down into areas like:
• Cultural stage (contextualization & cultural exegesis)
• The unseen realm (spiritual dynamics often ignored in Western analysis)
• Public theology (how we engage in societal structures and conversations)
Under cultural stage, I dive into things like cultural operating systems, globalization, and the ongoing exportation of Western assumptions in missions. You’ve lived this out firsthand in your cross-cultural ministry—what you’ve described is exactly the kind of cultural discernment and humility that missioholism aims to cultivate.
I also agree with your point that our nation was significantly shaped by Judeo-Christian moral foundations. That’s one of the great tensions we face today: how do you sustain a moral society when the framework that once undergirded it is being systematically dismantled or outright discarded? The founding fathers—whether devout Christians or philosophical deists—understood that a free society could only function if it was populated by a morally formed people. But once you remove the soul of that moral vision—rooted in divine accountability—what remains lacks the cohesion and authority to endure.
This is why discipleship is not optional. The solution isn’t to preserve American dominance but to cultivate holy lives that testify to the Kingdom—lives shaped by the Story of God, not by nostalgia for a cultural moment that once looked Christian but was never fully aligned with Christ.
And yet the question still lingers: In the meantime, how should government be ordered to restrain evil and promote good, when both good and evil are defined by the ever-shifting whims of a fickle people? There has to be a standard—but what should it be? And is it even possible—or wise—to try to reestablish that standard within the framework of modern government?
I haven’t fully settled that in my own thinking. I believe the gospel speaks to every sphere of life, including governance, but I’m still wrestling with how far the biblical vision can or should shape public policy in a pluralistic society without compromising either justice or our witness.
My thoughts & answer to this Q- “how should government be ordered to restrain evil and promote good, when both good and evil are defined by the ever-shifting whims of a fickle people?”
Isn’t this what Daniel & the Jewish exiles faced, in a sense? For me, the key is to NOT define good & evil by what people think. This is where the rule of Law (Magna Carta & essential moral law of 10 Comms) via our Constitution is important.
I think, putting the best construction on it, this is the impetus of Christian Nationalism, it just overemphasizes the “national” element.
I believe it is possible to re-establish a moral foundation within modern government, but it requires a morally conservative view/interpretation of the Constitution.
What is the Christian’s place in all this? Like Daniel but also men/women like William Wilberforce & many not well known people like them. I realize MLK Jr may not have been the most morally righteous man, but he held to Judeo-Christian values in his Civil Rights work (re: Letter from Birmingham jail).
As far as the missioholistic approach, we have to become cross-cultural missionaries in our own culture. I saw that right off in the midst of the Emerging/Emergent church movement of the 2000’s. Now, more so than ever.
A great book on connecting with people of another culture is Don Richardson’s “Eternity in their Hearts” where he talks about redemptive analogies, aka, cultural bridges.
Hard to converse on all this via social media. Would rather do it over a cup of coffee or a meal!
Thanks for sharing this—there’s a lot of wisdom here, and I appreciate the effort to frame this issue historically and biblically.
I agree that Daniel's life offers a compelling picture. We actually do a workshop on Daniel for churches. He didn’t conform to the moral whims of Babylon, but neither did he withdraw or seek to dominate. He served faithfully in a pagan system without ever compromising his allegiance to God. That's a crucial model for us today, especially when moral definitions are so fluid. I think that faithful presence is a good reminder here.
I agree with you that God’s standards of good and evil are not up for popular vote. That’s why anchoring ourselves in God’s moral law is essential. The challenge, as you note, is how that translates in a pluralistic society. While I see the concern that inspires Christian Nationalism, I think its impulse to restore morality through national power rather than through kingdom witness ends up distorting both Christianity and the nation. It shifts from prophetic presence to political possession. And the question becomes, what happens when the law is co-opted to establish anti-biblical stances?
I also appreciate you pointing to Wilberforce and MLK Jr., who both were powerful examples of what it looks like to live faithfully within a broken system, speaking truth to power while embodying love and justice.
From a missioholistic lens, I’d say this: we are called to be more like cross-cultural missionaries than cultural warriors. That's what missioholism is about. We actually use Richardson's redemptive analogies with the affirm and challenge principle, that along with subversive fulfillment/magnetic points that J.H. Bavinck/Dan Strange have championed. That means learning the “language” of our cultural moment, identifying redemptive analogies (like Don Richardson suggests), and building bridges rather than bunkers. We can’t reclaim a moral foundation by force; it has to be cultivated through Spirit-empowered witness, long-term faithfulness, and sacrificial love.
And yes—social media often falls short for this kind of conversation. I’d take coffee and honest dialogue any day over soundbites and hot takes. Feel free to message me through facebook and we can set up a time over coffee. :-)
Add the fact that many non western Christians are part of inherently pluralistic country, and you get extra complexity. Here in Indonesia as flawed as its institutions are, if you ask its believers about what is the meaning of CN in their context, it means coexistence but also speaking truth to power - albeit the latter here has also been contaminated...
There is no denying that the American church—especially in its institutional forms—has failed grievously at times. It’s failed survivors, failed immigrants, failed the poor, and failed the marginalized. It has, at moments, traded the cross for influence, and Christ’s kingdom for political power. That lament must be heard.
But not all who serve in leadership are complicit in every failure. I have met those who have spoken out. They are truly trying to be faithful, but they are too few.
I have to guard myself lest I let my grief slide into cynical generalization. Jesus calls out hypocrisy, yes, but he also recognizes the faithful few—even in corrupt systems (see Rev. 2–3).
I hate that some see this as a failure of the gospel, but it’s not. It’s the failure of people who have confused it with nationalism, power, and culture wars. When the gospel becomes a tool of political machinery, it ceases to be good news for the poor, the outsider, and the sinner.
True gospel faithfulness means standing with the vulnerable, telling the truth even when it costs us, and lifting high the name of Jesus—not any party, nation, or tribe. That’s what it means to live as citizens of a kingdom not of this world but radically for this world.
God have mercy and may He raise up a new generation of leaders with clean hands, broken hearts, and burning love for Jesus and the least of these.
I would be interested in your thoughts about the Byzantine Double Headed Eagle being displayed in Orthodox Churches. Or the Imperial Globe in Orthodox Icons as a symbol of Divine Authority and Christian Sovereignty.
Also your thoughts on America not as a Christian nation, but definitely a nation of Christians. This contributed to the first two hundred years of American greatness. The current Christian Nationalist movement does not necessarily mean wielding totalitarian political power, but means defending freedoms only available in an America with a Christian identity. I have never known any Christians who would utilize political power to convert people. Even Teddy Roosevelt said, “A good Christian is a good citizen!” That is pretty much all I see in any Christian nationalist movement and whatever inspiration they derive from looking at the American Christian past. Certainly, if Christianity is sovereign, then Christians would be preferable to say, in the extreme, that electing a leader from a religious cannibal group is unacceptable.
On a "Christian nation" vs. a "nation of Christians." That’s an important distinction—and one I wholeheartedly affirm. Historically, it’s true that America’s moral, social, and institutional foundations were significantly shaped by Christian values, even as the government was intentionally designed to avoid establishing any official religion.
Describing America as “a nation of Christians” reflects a demographic and cultural reality—though one that is steadily shifting. The real challenge arises when that history is invoked to argue that America must preserve a distinctively Christian identity in order to remain free.
That’s where Christian nationalism tends to surface—not necessarily in calls for outright theocracy, but in efforts to privilege Christianity in ways that threaten the civic equality of others.
Religious freedom is a two-way street: it allows Christianity to thrive without state interference, but also protects the right of others to believe differently and live peacefully.
The deeper question we must wrestle with is how to sustain a shared life in a society where multiple forces—religious, secular, and ideological—each press for cultural dominance. How do we resist the temptation of supremacy while bearing faithful witness to the truth?
I don’t think we can maintain our freedom without an emphasis on our Christian Heritage. But, for me, this occurs within the framework of religious freedom. It means that preachers must do their job to make sure the culture understands its heritage. I certainly do not want the government telling me what Church I have to attend. But I would also want government Chaplins to be honest about their faith. For example, some pastors try to be inclusive by naming off all gods in their prayers. I don’t want weak syncretism in the public sphere. I want people to clearly pronounce the truth they believe
I was not as familiar with the Byzantine Double-Headed Eagle, but I decided to do a bit of a deep dive based on your question.
It seems that these symbols come from a historical moment when church and empire were deeply intertwined. It appears to have represented the unity of church and state under the Byzantine ideal, with one side representing the spiritual authority of the church and the other the temporal power of the empire.
In a similar vein is the globus cruciger (the orb and cross), which symbolizes Christ's sovereignty over the world, and by extension, the emperor's divine right to rule under God’s authority.
Within the Orthodox tradition (which I am unfamiliar with as a whole, although I spent a year going through the Orthodox Study Bible, which was fascinating), these aren’t just political symbols—they’re liturgical and theological, reminders that all earthly power is meant to be under the rule of Christ.
That being said, transplanting these symbols uncritically into a modern context—especially in pluralistic, democratic societies—raises real concerns. They can easily be misread as advocating a return to a Christendom model that merges spiritual authority with political coercion, something the New Testament does not support and early Christianity did not require to thrive.
Thank you so much for taking the time to research and reply to my comment. It is greatly appreciated.
I would be interested in your thought about the conversion of Constantine to Christianity. This invited his introduction of Edict of Millan. He used the temporal power of the state to allow religious freedom. Certainly Christianity did not need the power of the State to thrive. But, once Christianity overcame the period of persecution, they could breathe a breathe of fresh air under the Edict of Milan.
Lastly, you mentioned that you believe that Christian nationalists don't want to use political power coercively.
I’ve no doubt your personal experience aligns with what you shared—and I deeply respect that, but others have witnessed rhetoric and actions that go further. For example, some self-proclaimed Christian nationalists advocate for explicitly Christian laws, Christian-only immigration preferences, or reinterpretations of the First Amendment that limit religious expression for non-Christians.
Even if their goal isn’t forced conversion, it still raises questions about justice, witness, and the church’s prophetic voice when too closely aligned with state power.
Teddy Roosevelt’s quote is a good one—but even then, we have to ask what kind of Christian, and what kind of citizenship? Christian virtue should shape public life, yes—but through service, love, and justice, not cultural domination.
Thank you for having this discourse with me. I enjoyed your thoughtful article, thanks to Bobby Lime’s recommendation.
If I was a younger man, I would have considered writing a paper on Orthodox Christianity and their blending of the State and Faith. I am Orthodox, but my conversion had some hurdles. One hurdle was my observation that Orthodoxy is the primary faith in Eastern Block countries where Communism took root. Why did that happen? At the same time I am aware of the Church persecutions in those countries and many priests gave their lives.
Perhaps our representative democracy ultimately cannot survive cultural power struggles between extremely disparate groups. For example, is Islamic thought compatible with our democracy? Can Shariah law co-exist in our society with religious freedom? Certainly India’s experience has been a split between the Hindus and Muslims despite Gandhi’s best efforts.
Perhaps there is always a pendulum swing with waxing and waning power. Good Christians obtain power, the State thrives, and then good Christians become corrupt from power and the State suffers. Maybe that is also the State of affairs in our personal lives too? Always waxing and waning.
Hope these thoughts are not too disjointed. The wife just got home for dinner and I typed this out quickly. She who must be obeyed demands attention. Thanks so much for your thoughts and taking time to communicate. Much appreciated!
Thank you so much for your thoughtful response—and for taking the time to write, even as “she who must be obeyed” returned home! I truly appreciate the depth of what you’ve shared and the gracious spirit behind it.
Like you, I find myself wrestling with many of these same questions. The blending of state and faith—especially within Orthodoxy—is both fascinating and sobering. I’ve often wondered how a tradition so deeply rooted in the historic and transcendent could find itself entangled with regimes that gave rise to Communism. And yet, as you rightly noted, the Church in those regions also endured severe persecution, with many priests and believers giving their lives for the faith. That paradox is not lost on me.
Your observation about democracy and the collision of disparate worldviews is something I’ve been reflecting on as well. Can a pluralistic society endure when its foundational visions of the good are so divergent? How does a society built on tolerance survive when it encounters ideologies that are inherently intolerant? Is peaceful coexistence truly possible, or does the pendulum inevitably swing with each cultural wave—both within societies and, as you insightfully pointed out, within our own souls?
This naturally leads to deeper questions about pluralism itself and the role Christianity plays within it. Is Christianity necessary to sustain the moral framework that allows for genuine freedom—including the non-coercive communication of the gospel? Certainly, other nations have adopted democratic structures without being explicitly Christian. But when pluralism extends beyond shared norms—or when those norms themselves become fluid and relativized—what anchors a society?
I find myself increasingly burdened by the question: if we in the U.S. have more churches, pastors, resources, and access than ever before, why are we witnessing such a profound decline in Christian faith? This isn’t unique to us—Canada, Europe, Australia, and others share this trajectory. I’m determined to explore why Western civilization, which in many ways grew alongside and was shaped by Christianity, has now detached itself from it—and in some cases, actively suppressed it. What are the root causes? Can they be isolated and addressed theologically?
Lesslie Newbigin once said:
"In the past two hundred years European missionaries have given much attention to studying the cultures of non-European people with a view to communicating the gospel to them. They have unfortunately not given so much time to understanding this (Western) culture within which the gospel has been so long domesticated. And this is a very, very difficult undertaking, a very painful undertaking."
That quote haunts me—and fuels me. I’ve made it my life’s mission to answer this challenge. In some ways, it has become a holy obsession.
Your reflections stirred up more questions than answers, and that’s a gift. These aren’t abstract musings; they go to the heart of how we live out our faith in this fragile, complex world. I’m truly grateful for the conversation—and I hope we can continue it.
This is excellent. I have a first cousin who was supposedly saved at a Campus Crusade for Christ meeting in college in the mid seventies. Not long after, he was caught up in the surging national fervor for Reagan of the late 1970s. We were quite touched when he applied to work with Campus Crusade after he finished college. In the early 1980s, he was accepted, and off he went to California for training.
My cousin is, as has been said of others, charming until you get to know him. His charm and apparent wholesomeness were so striking to the people who were running the organization that he was asked to stay and work in an administrative job. While there, he met a fine young Christian woman. She fell in love with him, he appeared to fall in love with her. It didn't hurt her chances with my cousin that she was from an extremely wealthy family.
We had always known that that part of the extended family was given to greediness, but my parents and I believed that my cousin's conversion to Christ was real. And it was understandable to us that after their marriage, my cousin would leave Campus Crusade, and she with him, because they wanted to start a family and needed more money than a Campus Crusade missionary wage.
I don't want to go into details, but by 2012, it was clear to me that my cousin was an American first, and possibly a Christian. He is the kind of American who identifies Americanism with Darwinian capitalism, and the millions of dollars he actually married gave him the power to engage in it.
I know as a fact that over a decade ago, this man started a well planned effort to get a cousin of ours, who has been severely disabled since childhood, disinherited from the will of an aunt who had stipulated that the disabled cousin was to receive approximately $150,000. This was money the man needed badly. But if someone goes to war against you and you don't know that it's happening, you're probably done. The cousin succeeding so thoroughly in defaming this man, who is a strong believer, that when the aunt died in 2013, the man learned he had been disinherited. ( He's doing fine. His having been disinherited coincided with the passage of The ABLE Act, and his congregation, and others, have donated to his ABLE account with reliability in the decade since. )
My cousin, who is a sociopath, continues as a man of prominence in his huge, nondenominational "Bible" church. He does this despite the fact that four months after his indirect attempted murder of our cousin, he was exposed as a complete fraud of a man in a political scandal. There was something Biblical like in my cousin's desperate attempts to save his reputation, because everything he tried backfired, and served quite well to reveal to the still unsure the sort of man he actually is. It took a few years for almost all of the stones in my cousin's temple to be overturned, but overturned they were.
Evil and insanity are closely linked in the Bible, and I think my cousin is an example of it. I think it's possible that he does believe himself to be a Christian because he's a patriot! He's hung on in his church by doing what sociopaths always do, lying inexhaustibly. It also doesn't hurt that he and his wife donate a lot of money to their church.
I admire my cousin's wife greatly. She is our sister in Christ, who made a life wrecking mistake, but she stayed with my cousin and they raised their daughters together. As soon as the younger daughter went off to college, though - BOOM!!! - she had a full time job which requires a lot of travel. Yes, I do think that as sad as it is, it's also funny.
Wow. That is quite a bit. I think that it's so difficult for Christians to identify wolves in the church simply because money hides many flaws, and so many can hide behind biblical language and imagery, especially when the faith becomes syncretistic.
My heart breaks for the disabled cousin, but I am grateful that God provided through the ABLE Act. It is so important to expose syncretism and wolves whenever we can. The purity and integrity of the faith demand it. But at the same time, it can become a thankless and wearisome task.
May the Lord our God give you the strength and perseverance to battle on, standing firm in the faith. And by the way, thank you for reading :-)
It was my pleasure. And it's an important topic. I love America, too, but if I ever visited a church which displayed the Stars and Stripes, I would leave immediately.
As for my cousin, I can't have the same view of evil which I used to have, not that I haven't known for several decades that often, evil has quite a pleasant demeanor at first. But my cousin's heartlessness is astonishing, also, his being so sure he could get away with it. I imagine that when my cousin learned why he had been disinherited, he may have prayed a few imprecatory prayers about Cousin Snidely. ( You have to be of a certain age to get the reference. For comprehensiveness, google Snidely Whiplash. )
If you keep up with the "literature of narcissistic personality disorder," whether that's through books, videos or podcasts, you'll discover to your satisfaction that increasing number of shrinks and their kind are not at all shy about using a term to describe these people which their colleagues of a half century ago would never have used: evil.
Two thoughts.
1 I have read that the Great Awakening was the primary tool that shaped our society into a nation. That makes sense to me.
2 if we don’t have Christianity as the basis for our society, is it because there’s something superior available?
Sorry for the delayed response! I saw your message earlier, but didn’t get a chance to sit with it properly—these questions deserve some thoughtful reflection.
On the Great Awakening shaping our nation:
I agree—it had a significant impact on American society. It didn’t just influence personal religious experience; it also helped shape our collective ideas about liberty, moral responsibility, and even national identity. Some historians argue that the revivals laid the cultural groundwork for the American Revolution by reinforcing the value of individual conscience and resistance to tyranny. So yes, revival and renewal have clearly played a central role in forming the soul of our nation.
That said, the Great Awakening didn’t transform all aspects of society equally. It coexisted with systemic injustices—like slavery and the displacement of Indigenous peoples—which means it stirred spiritual renewal while also leaving deep tensions unresolved. That’s part of what James Davison Hunter touches on in his work. Those who have challenged the cultural reservoir of civic faith have been met with violence historically.
On Christianity as the basis for society, this is a question I’ve wrestled with—and still do. There’s no doubt that Christianity played a foundational role in shaping Western civilization and our form of government. But it’s also true that other societies have adapted certain values and flourished without explicitly Christian foundations.
I wouldn’t say there’s a better alternative out there, but I do think Christianity provides a framework that uniquely allows for freedom of thought and conscience. The real question, though, is what happens when the very system Christianity helped create begins to marginalize or suppress it?
Even the Founding Fathers understood that their experiment depended on a morally grounded citizenry. But how do you sustain virtue in a system increasingly driven by consumerism and self-indulgence? That’s something I’m still trying to work through.
Of course, Christianity can’t be imposed. The moment it is, it loses its true power and becomes counterproductive, working against the very spirit of Christ.
Curious to hear your thoughts—how have you been thinking through these tensions lately? What do you see as the way forward?
Thank you for the thoughtful reply.
If you would allow me, I’d like to push back on the point about slavery and indigenous people. It felt too as if of our culture is imposing an unfair judgment on that culture. There’s a term for that that slips my mind at the moment. It appears, both of those issues have eventually been addressed via genuine Christianity. The complaint is the timing.
To your last question, I don’t see a superior foundation for organizing society other than Biblical Christianity. We should move in that direction. It’s the best choice we have for human flourishing. I know there’s issues with it, but we should be willing to deal with those rather than the issues raised by another worldview.
Thank you for asking.
What do you think about that?
Thank you for your gracious pushback—I truly believe we need more conversations like this, not fewer.
I think the term you may be reaching for is chronological snobbery or presentism—though I could be wrong. Either way, I understand your concern. While Christianity has certainly been associated with historical injustices, I wholeheartedly agree: it was ultimately faithful Christians who led the charge in correcting those wrongs.
Where I wrestle most is with the entanglement of Christianity and political power. Whenever the faith becomes tethered to the state, it seems to fall into what I’d call the Constantinian temptation—where cultural and political advantages lead people to identify as Christians without being truly converted. The church gains influence, but often at the cost of its integrity.
There’s also the danger of a state church, where government—not Scripture—begins to dictate the terms of faith. As I’ve written (with two more articles coming soon), I think we’ve seen a kind of “generic Christianity” emerge—something broad and vague enough for people to read into it whatever version of “biblical Christianity” they hold. That’s a major challenge: what makes it truly biblical? Whose interpretive framework are we using? And what do we do with the frameworks that diverge?
Personally, I’m not comfortable with the government becoming the interpreter of Scripture for anyone. I don’t mean that condescendingly—please forgive me if it comes across that way. I’m genuinely wrestling with these questions, trying to think them through.
I do believe Christianity provides the strongest moral foundation for a just society—but that foundation has to be built into the hearts of the people. It can’t be manufactured by government fiat. Laws can reflect Judeo-Christian morality, but how are they sustained if the people no longer believe in that morality? What happens when public opinion shifts—as we’ve seen with abortion, marriage, and gender?
I believe what we’re witnessing right now is the last gasp of Christendom—the remnants of a time when Christianity provided the shared moral framework for Western society. That era, for better or worse, is fading. While some are trying to preserve it through political means, I’m not convinced that politics can carry that kind of spiritual weight. Government, at its best, is a limited administrative tool—necessary for maintaining order and justice, but not equipped to define or sustain the moral vision of a people. It cannot create virtue; it can only constrain vice.
What concerns me is the growing trend of people treating their politics religiously—investing ultimate hope, identity, and moral certainty into political ideologies. At the same time, many are treating their religion politically—reducing the gospel to a tool for cultural dominance or partisan gain. This inversion distorts both realms. Politics becomes messianic, and religion becomes utilitarian.
That’s why I believe a missioholistic approach is so vital in this moment. Rather than seeking to recapture influence through power or retreating in fear, we’re called to live as a faithful, transcultural community—rooted in the gospel, shaped by the kingdom, and sent into the world not to conquer it, but to serve it. Missioholism invites us to function as cross-cultural missionaries in our own culture—reading the times, building bridges, and embodying a better story through lives marked by humility, courage, and love.
That means being faithfully present within the political sphere, like Daniel was.
These are hard but necessary conversations, and I deeply value being able to have them like this. I’d love to hear your thoughts—where do you agree, where do you push back? How do you see the path forward?
Travis,
You are gracious in your response. Thank you. I’ll do my best to continue the conversation in what I hope will be mutually helpful ways.
Your concern of Constantinian temptation is valid. In my view, I will take it. I’d rather have that problem than the problems we have now. The overarching aim of our society would be in a better trajectory even though there will always be bad actors. Nothing is perfect this side of heaven. It would be better though.
State church is something our founders were specifically concerned about and made structural guards against. We would have to go against the constitution to establish one. I think they were wise in what they did. As a result they were able to put a country together that consisted of Protestants, Catholics and free churches.
As a result, the government wouldn’t become the arbiter of truth. We have three branches of government that serve as a check and balance to each other. Additionally, Christianity has a high value for the pursuit of truth, free speech and respect for the conscience.
I’m happy to read that you agree that Christianity provides the strongest moral foundation for a just society. It’s true that it’s not ultimately fulfilled unless Christ is ruling and reigning in the human heart. The aim however is still valid. The organization of society around Christian principles is still proper. In that kind of society our need for a Savior would still be evident, maybe even more so than in our current cultural mores. I see this as a net positive.
Your concern about it no longer being sustained because people don’t believe it anymore is exactly the situation we are in. Christianity is despised, the values are mocked, the public square is barred from its voice. We have all the results of that shift in our towns, neighbourhoods and homes. The question we have is what to do about that. I’m arguing that Christianity is the best value system to organize society and we should return to that.
You are correct about the limits of government in affecting society. I believe the statement about politics being downstream of culture is correct. We are right to prioritize matters of the heart and culture. This is through faithful witnessing in our personal lives. We agree there.
Obviously, it’s ill-advised to believe that politics or government will solve all our ills. Just because there are some people doing that, and doing it in a foolish manner, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be involved at all.
Here’s my argument. Our ancestors spilled their blood to give us the privilege of self-government as free citizens. We owe it to them to pass that very precious privilege to the next generation. They did it out of a fear of God and love for each other. This is noble and right and to be carried on as tradition. Will it be perfect? No.
Will it replace what we as Christians are to do in our witness? No. Will it cause people to become Christians? No. Will there be unfortunate side effects? Yes.
But, there’s no better way to organize society! It’s noble and right and appropriate to bequeath to the next generation. It requires wisdom and courage to articulate and implement. It requires faith to believe that we have an answer, something very good to share in the public square that will make things better. I honestly believe that if you are a mature Christian
Daniel is a phenomenal example. His three friends are too. So is Esther. The Bible has given us examples of faithful witness including in the public square.
Thank you for inviting me into this conversation. It’s been a good challenge for me to sit and think and write like this. Thank you. I hope it’s helpful.
Travis, I’ll try to comment more later, but most of what you share here as great merit.
I suppose I don’t need to ask if you have a “MAGA/Trump Bible” 😏😉🤣
Just for the record, I don’t 😆
HA! You are right! I don’t and I am glad that you don’t either :-)
Travis, I can’t find my comment that I wanted to get back to but I’ll give a shot at what I think I was going to say 😆
I see a distinction between patriotism & nationalism (I’ve written about this somewhere). The short of it is this–patriotism is love for one’s country that is open-eyed & not myopic in its view of the nation & its culture. Nationalism tends to be myopic & somewhat of a “blind” allegiance. I also think a nationalist generally sees their nation as best at the cost or slighting of other nations, kind of like avid fandom.
“Americanism” was often exported around the world in connection to the Gospel. I’ve seen this over & over in my 25+ yrs of cross-cultural ministry. The consequence of that is it interferes with biblical morality when it clashes with cultural morality in other nations or people groups. I remember hearing, “that’s just an American view….” When I showed them in the Word, especially from an Old Testament book, it was more difficult for them to challenge the biblical truth. But there was a distrust nevertheless. Here’s where example & cultural bridge building is needed. Also, respect & appreciation for the people & their culture you’re engaging with the gospel. Too often lacking by well-intentioned missionaries, but mostly not the veterans who engage rather than challenge people & their culture.
When we started reintegrating into our home culture (USA) again in 2005, I realized a significant shift had taken place in the church (more like getting stuck in the 80s 😏) & in America. The culture was becoming a post-Christian nation. Not because of being more multicultural, although that had its impact, but because the church became weak, lacking intentional, personal discipleship.
But here’s where I see a need for caution in condemning all that’s said regarding Christian nationalism. Our nation is based on a Judeo-Christian ethnic, with a side of enlightenment philosophy. Yes, we are a hybrid culture & nation but our moral foundation is Judeo-Christian, reaching back to the Magna Carta & the 10 Commandments. Yes, there are the deists & naturalists, but let’s face it, they don’t have a firm base for their “morality”. The Enlightenment became the modern base of moral relativism.
The Gospel, of course, is founded on a fulfillment of the Old Covenant & establishing of the New Covenant.
So… yes, Christian nationalism can be somewhat blind in its nostalgia & the Kingdom of God holds no earthly territory, but the restoration of a moral element as the base of our culture is biblical, it’s just not ‘Merica or gospel-MAGA.
I hope this ramble makes some sense & relates to whatever I originally pushed back on 😉. Blessings on ya!
Thanks for the thoughtful response, Trip!
I appreciate the distinction you’re making between patriotism and nationalism—that’s something I plan to tackle in the final article of the series, especially how we can faithfully be both patriotic and Christian without conflating the two.
I also resonate with what you said about the confusion between American, cultural, and biblical morality. I call this the “affirm and challenge” principle. The gospel always affirms something within every culture—it finds touchpoints that can be built upon—but it also challenges every culture by exposing its idols and calling people to allegiance to Christ. That’s what gives it both credibility and power: it’s not just contextualized; it’s prophetic.
This is part of what I’ve categorized under cultural engagement in the broader framework of missioholism. Within the cultural engagement umbrella, I break things down into areas like:
• Cultural stage (contextualization & cultural exegesis)
• The unseen realm (spiritual dynamics often ignored in Western analysis)
• Public theology (how we engage in societal structures and conversations)
Under cultural stage, I dive into things like cultural operating systems, globalization, and the ongoing exportation of Western assumptions in missions. You’ve lived this out firsthand in your cross-cultural ministry—what you’ve described is exactly the kind of cultural discernment and humility that missioholism aims to cultivate.
I also agree with your point that our nation was significantly shaped by Judeo-Christian moral foundations. That’s one of the great tensions we face today: how do you sustain a moral society when the framework that once undergirded it is being systematically dismantled or outright discarded? The founding fathers—whether devout Christians or philosophical deists—understood that a free society could only function if it was populated by a morally formed people. But once you remove the soul of that moral vision—rooted in divine accountability—what remains lacks the cohesion and authority to endure.
This is why discipleship is not optional. The solution isn’t to preserve American dominance but to cultivate holy lives that testify to the Kingdom—lives shaped by the Story of God, not by nostalgia for a cultural moment that once looked Christian but was never fully aligned with Christ.
And yet the question still lingers: In the meantime, how should government be ordered to restrain evil and promote good, when both good and evil are defined by the ever-shifting whims of a fickle people? There has to be a standard—but what should it be? And is it even possible—or wise—to try to reestablish that standard within the framework of modern government?
I haven’t fully settled that in my own thinking. I believe the gospel speaks to every sphere of life, including governance, but I’m still wrestling with how far the biblical vision can or should shape public policy in a pluralistic society without compromising either justice or our witness.
My thoughts & answer to this Q- “how should government be ordered to restrain evil and promote good, when both good and evil are defined by the ever-shifting whims of a fickle people?”
Isn’t this what Daniel & the Jewish exiles faced, in a sense? For me, the key is to NOT define good & evil by what people think. This is where the rule of Law (Magna Carta & essential moral law of 10 Comms) via our Constitution is important.
I think, putting the best construction on it, this is the impetus of Christian Nationalism, it just overemphasizes the “national” element.
I believe it is possible to re-establish a moral foundation within modern government, but it requires a morally conservative view/interpretation of the Constitution.
What is the Christian’s place in all this? Like Daniel but also men/women like William Wilberforce & many not well known people like them. I realize MLK Jr may not have been the most morally righteous man, but he held to Judeo-Christian values in his Civil Rights work (re: Letter from Birmingham jail).
As far as the missioholistic approach, we have to become cross-cultural missionaries in our own culture. I saw that right off in the midst of the Emerging/Emergent church movement of the 2000’s. Now, more so than ever.
A great book on connecting with people of another culture is Don Richardson’s “Eternity in their Hearts” where he talks about redemptive analogies, aka, cultural bridges.
Hard to converse on all this via social media. Would rather do it over a cup of coffee or a meal!
Thanks for sharing this—there’s a lot of wisdom here, and I appreciate the effort to frame this issue historically and biblically.
I agree that Daniel's life offers a compelling picture. We actually do a workshop on Daniel for churches. He didn’t conform to the moral whims of Babylon, but neither did he withdraw or seek to dominate. He served faithfully in a pagan system without ever compromising his allegiance to God. That's a crucial model for us today, especially when moral definitions are so fluid. I think that faithful presence is a good reminder here.
I agree with you that God’s standards of good and evil are not up for popular vote. That’s why anchoring ourselves in God’s moral law is essential. The challenge, as you note, is how that translates in a pluralistic society. While I see the concern that inspires Christian Nationalism, I think its impulse to restore morality through national power rather than through kingdom witness ends up distorting both Christianity and the nation. It shifts from prophetic presence to political possession. And the question becomes, what happens when the law is co-opted to establish anti-biblical stances?
I also appreciate you pointing to Wilberforce and MLK Jr., who both were powerful examples of what it looks like to live faithfully within a broken system, speaking truth to power while embodying love and justice.
From a missioholistic lens, I’d say this: we are called to be more like cross-cultural missionaries than cultural warriors. That's what missioholism is about. We actually use Richardson's redemptive analogies with the affirm and challenge principle, that along with subversive fulfillment/magnetic points that J.H. Bavinck/Dan Strange have championed. That means learning the “language” of our cultural moment, identifying redemptive analogies (like Don Richardson suggests), and building bridges rather than bunkers. We can’t reclaim a moral foundation by force; it has to be cultivated through Spirit-empowered witness, long-term faithfulness, and sacrificial love.
And yes—social media often falls short for this kind of conversation. I’d take coffee and honest dialogue any day over soundbites and hot takes. Feel free to message me through facebook and we can set up a time over coffee. :-)
Add the fact that many non western Christians are part of inherently pluralistic country, and you get extra complexity. Here in Indonesia as flawed as its institutions are, if you ask its believers about what is the meaning of CN in their context, it means coexistence but also speaking truth to power - albeit the latter here has also been contaminated...
In the meantime the other side (appealing to Christians)
https://substack.com/@hoopersnook/note/c-124216933?r=3n4un9
I grieve at this.
There is no denying that the American church—especially in its institutional forms—has failed grievously at times. It’s failed survivors, failed immigrants, failed the poor, and failed the marginalized. It has, at moments, traded the cross for influence, and Christ’s kingdom for political power. That lament must be heard.
But not all who serve in leadership are complicit in every failure. I have met those who have spoken out. They are truly trying to be faithful, but they are too few.
I have to guard myself lest I let my grief slide into cynical generalization. Jesus calls out hypocrisy, yes, but he also recognizes the faithful few—even in corrupt systems (see Rev. 2–3).
I hate that some see this as a failure of the gospel, but it’s not. It’s the failure of people who have confused it with nationalism, power, and culture wars. When the gospel becomes a tool of political machinery, it ceases to be good news for the poor, the outsider, and the sinner.
True gospel faithfulness means standing with the vulnerable, telling the truth even when it costs us, and lifting high the name of Jesus—not any party, nation, or tribe. That’s what it means to live as citizens of a kingdom not of this world but radically for this world.
God have mercy and may He raise up a new generation of leaders with clean hands, broken hearts, and burning love for Jesus and the least of these.
However the "marginalized" is also a weapon for the unbelievers, IYKWIM.
Yes, I think I do. It can and has been co-opted for anti-biblical means
I would be interested in your thoughts about the Byzantine Double Headed Eagle being displayed in Orthodox Churches. Or the Imperial Globe in Orthodox Icons as a symbol of Divine Authority and Christian Sovereignty.
Also your thoughts on America not as a Christian nation, but definitely a nation of Christians. This contributed to the first two hundred years of American greatness. The current Christian Nationalist movement does not necessarily mean wielding totalitarian political power, but means defending freedoms only available in an America with a Christian identity. I have never known any Christians who would utilize political power to convert people. Even Teddy Roosevelt said, “A good Christian is a good citizen!” That is pretty much all I see in any Christian nationalist movement and whatever inspiration they derive from looking at the American Christian past. Certainly, if Christianity is sovereign, then Christians would be preferable to say, in the extreme, that electing a leader from a religious cannibal group is unacceptable.
On a "Christian nation" vs. a "nation of Christians." That’s an important distinction—and one I wholeheartedly affirm. Historically, it’s true that America’s moral, social, and institutional foundations were significantly shaped by Christian values, even as the government was intentionally designed to avoid establishing any official religion.
Describing America as “a nation of Christians” reflects a demographic and cultural reality—though one that is steadily shifting. The real challenge arises when that history is invoked to argue that America must preserve a distinctively Christian identity in order to remain free.
That’s where Christian nationalism tends to surface—not necessarily in calls for outright theocracy, but in efforts to privilege Christianity in ways that threaten the civic equality of others.
Religious freedom is a two-way street: it allows Christianity to thrive without state interference, but also protects the right of others to believe differently and live peacefully.
The deeper question we must wrestle with is how to sustain a shared life in a society where multiple forces—religious, secular, and ideological—each press for cultural dominance. How do we resist the temptation of supremacy while bearing faithful witness to the truth?
I don’t think we can maintain our freedom without an emphasis on our Christian Heritage. But, for me, this occurs within the framework of religious freedom. It means that preachers must do their job to make sure the culture understands its heritage. I certainly do not want the government telling me what Church I have to attend. But I would also want government Chaplins to be honest about their faith. For example, some pastors try to be inclusive by naming off all gods in their prayers. I don’t want weak syncretism in the public sphere. I want people to clearly pronounce the truth they believe
.
I was not as familiar with the Byzantine Double-Headed Eagle, but I decided to do a bit of a deep dive based on your question.
It seems that these symbols come from a historical moment when church and empire were deeply intertwined. It appears to have represented the unity of church and state under the Byzantine ideal, with one side representing the spiritual authority of the church and the other the temporal power of the empire.
In a similar vein is the globus cruciger (the orb and cross), which symbolizes Christ's sovereignty over the world, and by extension, the emperor's divine right to rule under God’s authority.
Within the Orthodox tradition (which I am unfamiliar with as a whole, although I spent a year going through the Orthodox Study Bible, which was fascinating), these aren’t just political symbols—they’re liturgical and theological, reminders that all earthly power is meant to be under the rule of Christ.
That being said, transplanting these symbols uncritically into a modern context—especially in pluralistic, democratic societies—raises real concerns. They can easily be misread as advocating a return to a Christendom model that merges spiritual authority with political coercion, something the New Testament does not support and early Christianity did not require to thrive.
Thank you so much for taking the time to research and reply to my comment. It is greatly appreciated.
I would be interested in your thought about the conversion of Constantine to Christianity. This invited his introduction of Edict of Millan. He used the temporal power of the state to allow religious freedom. Certainly Christianity did not need the power of the State to thrive. But, once Christianity overcame the period of persecution, they could breathe a breathe of fresh air under the Edict of Milan.
Lastly, you mentioned that you believe that Christian nationalists don't want to use political power coercively.
I’ve no doubt your personal experience aligns with what you shared—and I deeply respect that, but others have witnessed rhetoric and actions that go further. For example, some self-proclaimed Christian nationalists advocate for explicitly Christian laws, Christian-only immigration preferences, or reinterpretations of the First Amendment that limit religious expression for non-Christians.
Even if their goal isn’t forced conversion, it still raises questions about justice, witness, and the church’s prophetic voice when too closely aligned with state power.
Teddy Roosevelt’s quote is a good one—but even then, we have to ask what kind of Christian, and what kind of citizenship? Christian virtue should shape public life, yes—but through service, love, and justice, not cultural domination.
Thanks for reading btw!
Thank you for having this discourse with me. I enjoyed your thoughtful article, thanks to Bobby Lime’s recommendation.
If I was a younger man, I would have considered writing a paper on Orthodox Christianity and their blending of the State and Faith. I am Orthodox, but my conversion had some hurdles. One hurdle was my observation that Orthodoxy is the primary faith in Eastern Block countries where Communism took root. Why did that happen? At the same time I am aware of the Church persecutions in those countries and many priests gave their lives.
Perhaps our representative democracy ultimately cannot survive cultural power struggles between extremely disparate groups. For example, is Islamic thought compatible with our democracy? Can Shariah law co-exist in our society with religious freedom? Certainly India’s experience has been a split between the Hindus and Muslims despite Gandhi’s best efforts.
Perhaps there is always a pendulum swing with waxing and waning power. Good Christians obtain power, the State thrives, and then good Christians become corrupt from power and the State suffers. Maybe that is also the State of affairs in our personal lives too? Always waxing and waning.
Hope these thoughts are not too disjointed. The wife just got home for dinner and I typed this out quickly. She who must be obeyed demands attention. Thanks so much for your thoughts and taking time to communicate. Much appreciated!
Thank you so much for your thoughtful response—and for taking the time to write, even as “she who must be obeyed” returned home! I truly appreciate the depth of what you’ve shared and the gracious spirit behind it.
Like you, I find myself wrestling with many of these same questions. The blending of state and faith—especially within Orthodoxy—is both fascinating and sobering. I’ve often wondered how a tradition so deeply rooted in the historic and transcendent could find itself entangled with regimes that gave rise to Communism. And yet, as you rightly noted, the Church in those regions also endured severe persecution, with many priests and believers giving their lives for the faith. That paradox is not lost on me.
Your observation about democracy and the collision of disparate worldviews is something I’ve been reflecting on as well. Can a pluralistic society endure when its foundational visions of the good are so divergent? How does a society built on tolerance survive when it encounters ideologies that are inherently intolerant? Is peaceful coexistence truly possible, or does the pendulum inevitably swing with each cultural wave—both within societies and, as you insightfully pointed out, within our own souls?
This naturally leads to deeper questions about pluralism itself and the role Christianity plays within it. Is Christianity necessary to sustain the moral framework that allows for genuine freedom—including the non-coercive communication of the gospel? Certainly, other nations have adopted democratic structures without being explicitly Christian. But when pluralism extends beyond shared norms—or when those norms themselves become fluid and relativized—what anchors a society?
I find myself increasingly burdened by the question: if we in the U.S. have more churches, pastors, resources, and access than ever before, why are we witnessing such a profound decline in Christian faith? This isn’t unique to us—Canada, Europe, Australia, and others share this trajectory. I’m determined to explore why Western civilization, which in many ways grew alongside and was shaped by Christianity, has now detached itself from it—and in some cases, actively suppressed it. What are the root causes? Can they be isolated and addressed theologically?
Lesslie Newbigin once said:
"In the past two hundred years European missionaries have given much attention to studying the cultures of non-European people with a view to communicating the gospel to them. They have unfortunately not given so much time to understanding this (Western) culture within which the gospel has been so long domesticated. And this is a very, very difficult undertaking, a very painful undertaking."
That quote haunts me—and fuels me. I’ve made it my life’s mission to answer this challenge. In some ways, it has become a holy obsession.
Your reflections stirred up more questions than answers, and that’s a gift. These aren’t abstract musings; they go to the heart of how we live out our faith in this fragile, complex world. I’m truly grateful for the conversation—and I hope we can continue it.
With gratitude,
Travis
And the russians are doing that right now.
This is excellent. I have a first cousin who was supposedly saved at a Campus Crusade for Christ meeting in college in the mid seventies. Not long after, he was caught up in the surging national fervor for Reagan of the late 1970s. We were quite touched when he applied to work with Campus Crusade after he finished college. In the early 1980s, he was accepted, and off he went to California for training.
My cousin is, as has been said of others, charming until you get to know him. His charm and apparent wholesomeness were so striking to the people who were running the organization that he was asked to stay and work in an administrative job. While there, he met a fine young Christian woman. She fell in love with him, he appeared to fall in love with her. It didn't hurt her chances with my cousin that she was from an extremely wealthy family.
We had always known that that part of the extended family was given to greediness, but my parents and I believed that my cousin's conversion to Christ was real. And it was understandable to us that after their marriage, my cousin would leave Campus Crusade, and she with him, because they wanted to start a family and needed more money than a Campus Crusade missionary wage.
I don't want to go into details, but by 2012, it was clear to me that my cousin was an American first, and possibly a Christian. He is the kind of American who identifies Americanism with Darwinian capitalism, and the millions of dollars he actually married gave him the power to engage in it.
I know as a fact that over a decade ago, this man started a well planned effort to get a cousin of ours, who has been severely disabled since childhood, disinherited from the will of an aunt who had stipulated that the disabled cousin was to receive approximately $150,000. This was money the man needed badly. But if someone goes to war against you and you don't know that it's happening, you're probably done. The cousin succeeding so thoroughly in defaming this man, who is a strong believer, that when the aunt died in 2013, the man learned he had been disinherited. ( He's doing fine. His having been disinherited coincided with the passage of The ABLE Act, and his congregation, and others, have donated to his ABLE account with reliability in the decade since. )
My cousin, who is a sociopath, continues as a man of prominence in his huge, nondenominational "Bible" church. He does this despite the fact that four months after his indirect attempted murder of our cousin, he was exposed as a complete fraud of a man in a political scandal. There was something Biblical like in my cousin's desperate attempts to save his reputation, because everything he tried backfired, and served quite well to reveal to the still unsure the sort of man he actually is. It took a few years for almost all of the stones in my cousin's temple to be overturned, but overturned they were.
Evil and insanity are closely linked in the Bible, and I think my cousin is an example of it. I think it's possible that he does believe himself to be a Christian because he's a patriot! He's hung on in his church by doing what sociopaths always do, lying inexhaustibly. It also doesn't hurt that he and his wife donate a lot of money to their church.
I admire my cousin's wife greatly. She is our sister in Christ, who made a life wrecking mistake, but she stayed with my cousin and they raised their daughters together. As soon as the younger daughter went off to college, though - BOOM!!! - she had a full time job which requires a lot of travel. Yes, I do think that as sad as it is, it's also funny.
Wow. That is quite a bit. I think that it's so difficult for Christians to identify wolves in the church simply because money hides many flaws, and so many can hide behind biblical language and imagery, especially when the faith becomes syncretistic.
My heart breaks for the disabled cousin, but I am grateful that God provided through the ABLE Act. It is so important to expose syncretism and wolves whenever we can. The purity and integrity of the faith demand it. But at the same time, it can become a thankless and wearisome task.
May the Lord our God give you the strength and perseverance to battle on, standing firm in the faith. And by the way, thank you for reading :-)
It was my pleasure. And it's an important topic. I love America, too, but if I ever visited a church which displayed the Stars and Stripes, I would leave immediately.
As for my cousin, I can't have the same view of evil which I used to have, not that I haven't known for several decades that often, evil has quite a pleasant demeanor at first. But my cousin's heartlessness is astonishing, also, his being so sure he could get away with it. I imagine that when my cousin learned why he had been disinherited, he may have prayed a few imprecatory prayers about Cousin Snidely. ( You have to be of a certain age to get the reference. For comprehensiveness, google Snidely Whiplash. )
If you keep up with the "literature of narcissistic personality disorder," whether that's through books, videos or podcasts, you'll discover to your satisfaction that increasing number of shrinks and their kind are not at all shy about using a term to describe these people which their colleagues of a half century ago would never have used: evil.