Christian Nationalism has existed in various forms throughout United States history, a fact more prominent scholars like Kevin M. Kruse, Andrew Whitehead, and Samuel Perry have been writing about for the better part of the last decade. General awareness of the term itself gained more attention after the January 6th, 2021 Insurrection and now seems to be having another moment in the national consciousness in the aftermath of the 2024 election and the subsequent cabinet picks for the incoming Trump administration, such as Pete Hegseth.
Amanda Tyler’s timely new book, How to End Christian Nationalism, is a short and accessible addition to an expanding list of books written by Christians concerned about how their faith is being corrupted and hijacked by Christian Nationalism and its adherents. Tyler is the lead organizer of Christians Against Christian Nationalism and the Executive Director of the Baptist Joint Committee for Religious Liberty. She brings her Georgetown law degree and experience on Capitol Hill to bear throughout this book, while her Baptist background comes through several times in this book—with several references to “soul freedom” and the emphasis on the separation of Church and State, for example.
Because she draws from many different scholars and experts, Tyler defines Christian Nationalism in a few different ways throughout the book, but her clearest section defines Christian Nationalism as “a political ideology and cultural framework that seeks to fuse American and Christian identities,” suggesting that “‘real’ Americans are Christians and that ‘true’ Christians hold a particular set of political beliefs. It seeks to create a society in which only this narrow subset of Americans is privileged by law and in societal practice” (26). She cites several studies, including seminal work by Samuel Perry and Andrew Whitehead, to give specific examples of statements and goals that correlate with Christian Nationalism. For those frustrated with the amorphous use of Christian Nationalism in modern discourse, examples like advocating for educator-led prayer in public schools, displaying religious symbols (e.g., the 10 Commandments) in public spaces, and declaring the US a Christian nation are refreshingly concrete (30).
These specific definitions and examples, upon which she expands throughout the book, gave me an appreciation for her nuanced critique. While this book is still not one to hand directly to one’s Christian Nationalist relatives, I found Tyler’s careful delineating and eschewing of stereotypes both gracious and accurate. Tyler does not conflate Christian Nationalism with political or religious conservatism (136) nor with patriotism (126). Her careful study includes talk about the prevalence of Christian Nationalism, which by most measurements (e.g., Perry and Whitehead and PRRI) is between 20% and 50% of Americans. Her careful summaries of these studies explains the range of that statistic by separating Christian Nationalist supporters who actively campaign for its adoption (10- 20%) from those who tacitly support parts of Christian Nationalism without either supporting its whole program or actively working on its behalf (20-30%).
I also appreciated Tyler’s reasoning for why faithful Christians should care about the threat posed by Christian Nationalism. In one powerful passage, Tyler asserts that “Christian Nationalism is a debasement of the most foundation teachings of Christ and Christianity—chiefly that we are all God’s children and that we should love each other as Jesus loved us, which was radically, sacrificially, and unconditionally” (62). Christian Nationalism can also “inspire acts of intimidation and physical violence” such as that seen on January 6th, 2021 at the US Capitol, in the June 17, 2015 shooting at Charleston’s Emanuel AME church, or the 2022 Buffalo supermarket shooting (47). Christian Nationalism distorts the teachings of Jesus to love our neighbors (52), encourages gnostic thinking that separates the spiritual from the material (67), and can even lessen the number of Christians through state-sponsorship that paradoxically decreases adherents as shown in country-spanning studies (109).
After the introductory material regarding Christian Nationalism’s definitions, history, and prevalence, Tyler’s remaining chapters are devoted to various ways Christians can push back against Christian Nationalism in the United States. Tyler tackles the problem of Christian Nationalism mostly through a public policy and political lens: many of her suggestions for fighting Christian Nationalism involve public advocacy, community action, and petitioning. Most were self-explanatory (e.g., reminding those around us of the secular nature of the Constitution and its ban on religious tests), and few were revelatory or novel (e.g., contacting one’s representatives).
There were exceptions. Perhaps I’m influenced by my role as an American historian—I just covered the World War One homefront and its related debates over patriotism in one of my courses—but I did find Tyler’s discussion of the proper time for displaying an American flag within the church sanctuary to be both helpful and fresh (129-132). I also found myself pleasantly surprised with her refreshing take on less-traveled ground in chapter 7 when discussing preserving religious freedom in public schools. This chapter has much to chew on for those sending their children to Christian day schools and public schools alike, addressing topics like the academic study of religion versus the advocation of a particular religion, religion chaplains working alongside of school counselors and social workers, and release time or calendars for particular religious holidays.
Overall, I still found myself wanting more concrete action steps, even in the sections at the end that purportedly offered suggestions for “action.” Many of the suggested actions involved rather milquetoast actions like “denouncing” or “calling out,” sometimes within the context of a small group. Many parts of this book seemed geared toward either small group discussions or public-facing positions with platforms. Perhaps some pastors with larger audiences or the ear of certain politicians will be able to use their pulpits and platforms in ways inspired by this book. Those looking for more personal or specific pastoral advice for talking to Christian Nationalists should check out Caleb Campbell’s Disarming Leviathan, which has specific talking points and rhetorical moves that I found much more practical for engaging in loving and productive discussions.
A Reformed audience would want to know that Tyler’s (ana)baptist predilections came through in a few areas, such as the time when she uncritically quotes an anti-Trump conservative Christian who says “Jesus would never use politics to build his Kingdom…[nor] leverage human institutions or human political leaders to accomplish his purposes” (73). Perhaps that quote does not fully capture the spirit of what Tyler believes, especially given her suggestions about political advocacy throughout the book, but it made my Kuyperian senses start to tingle uncomfortably. A similar quotation on page 192 also made me raise my eyebrows: Tyler argues for humility by quoting the late Representative Barbara Jordan as saying, “the church is in error if it purports to be the voice of God in public policy” (194). It makes sense to avoid the sin of arrogance and hubris, but the church still needs to follow the prompting of the Holy Spirit, the witness of saints who have gone before, and the legacy of justice-seeking that many traditions have in order to be the conscience of the state and to speak prophetically in times of injustice. Politics are as much a square inch of God’s Kingdom as any other area, even if the temptation to use self-assured power instead of persuasion is ever-present. As I’ve said before on this platform, Reformed Christians in the Kuyperian tradition occupy a tricky median space between Dominionism and cultural withdrawal: ground that necessitates discernment, nuance, complexity, and convincing (instead of coercion). When placed in conversation with other people and other writers, this book can help further discussion of that middle ground.
4 Responses
Thanks for this review, Caleb. I appreciated its combination of clarity and nuance, qualities that aren’t always easy to combine. It is good to know that your perspective is being represented well at HCHS. I too hope we can preserve that “tricky median space” of faithful engagement between dominion and withdrawal. But I sometimes despair of ever rescuing the Kuyperian perspective from its (mis)appropriation by the Doug Wilsons and David Bartons of the current Christian Nationalist scene.
“Politics are as much a square inch of God’s Kingdom as any other area, even if the temptation to use self-assured power instead of persuasion is ever-present. “ Caleb, I love that statement. I’m disappointed that so many Christians have grasped the self-assured power side of faith in politics. II Corinthians 5 calls us to be ambassadors who walk alongside our fellow citizens. As you pointed out, coercion and state sponsorship of faith diminishes faith’s appeal and acceptance. It’s more effective and more Christ-like to walk alongside of our neighbors and fellow citizens than to wag our finger in their faces.
Thanks for your kind words (and long-standing influence on my political theology), Roger.
Thanks Caleb. I’ve been very uncomfortable in “the median space” as you call it, between those who advocate full engagement with politics and those who say that politics is no remedy for the Kingdom of God. What has helped me is the realization that the kingship of Jesus is so unlike the power of every other human ruler, that Jesus rules only and solely through acts of sacrificial loving service, and does not dominate anyone in order to get his way. If the President of the USA tried to do this, he would be quickly drummed from office. But perhaps he (and other politicians) should do so anyway, as a testimony to the way of the kingdom? How could that succeed? Perhaps that is the test of faith?