Trump and the Church: Have We Changed?

 

Over the last several months, as I have followed the news, I have become increasingly dismayed by the Trump administration and have begun to wonder when the evangelical Church will say “enough.”

I began this blog out of a burden for revival, but my first post, and many of the posts that followed, were about COVID and the lockdowns. I was concerned then about what looked like tyrannical overreach on the part of our own government, but I was particularly concerned with what I saw as the failure of so many churches to act on first principles. We had been saying one thing for years, but when put to the test, we did something else entirely.

I acted as I did in 2020 and 2021 because I believed, as I do now, that “God defines public worship to include the physical gathering of His people (Leviticus 23:3; Psalm 89:7; Hebrews 10:25);” “that we are explicitly forbidden from rendering to Caesar what is God’s (Mark 12:17);” “that we must obey God rather than man (Acts 5:29);” and “that Christ is the only Head of the Church (Colossians 1:18; cf. Ephesians 1:19–23).”*

There has never been any question in my mind that we had a duty to gather, that Jesus deserved our worship, and that—whether we considered God’s honour or the good of our neighbour—there was far more at stake than the body. Jesus taught that those who try to save their lives will lose them (Matthew 16:25), and the truth is, Christians have never been known to consult the world to determine what is safe. Rather, we consult the Bible to discern what is right.

But is that what is happening now? Are American evangelicals consulting their Bibles to discern what is right?  Are their words, conduct, politics, and principles shaped by the life and teaching of Jesus Christ? Does evangelicalism in America look like Jesus?  

There was a time when we lived by a code. When we settled on a course of action, we didn’t do it for some pragmatic or utilitarian end. We did it because we were persuaded it was right. There was a sense that our principles, taken from the Bible, governed everything we did. We weren’t always consistent, and we didn’t always agree on the principles themselves, but we were trying to be a principled people, living our lives in keeping with God’s law.

It didn’t matter what the world said, what the government or the courts decided, what was politically advantageous or culturally acceptable. It only mattered what God wanted. We were always asking: What does the Bible say? What would Jesus do? What is right? Even if we were sometimes hypocritical and inconsistent, we seemed to understand that we were called to live as lights in the darkness (Philippians 2:15).We knew instinctively that we were to live, as Esther’s people did, by another set of laws. We were in the world but not of the world (John 17:14–16). We were never America first, or Canada first; we were never for a party or a man; we did not put our trust in princes or chariots (Psalm 20:7, 146:3). We were on the side of Christ and His kingdom.

And this meant that we couldn’t be counted on to toe the party line or to give our loyalty to a party or a leader, because our loyalty belonged to Jesus. We would stand in every situation not for what was expedient but for what was right.

But has that changed?

We continue to stand for the rights of the unborn, but what about other lives? And what about the other commandments?

What follows are not exhaustive criticisms.  I simply want to raise three examples where I believe our stated principles have been tested and then leave it with you, the reader, to decide whether or not we have changed.

First, Trump’s conduct regarding Greenland. Though he has recently backed off, for months Trump insisted that he—and America—must have Greenland. At one point, he even said they would take Greenland the easy way or the hard way. And though repeatedly asked to do so, he refused to rule out military force. It did not matter what the people of Greenland wanted. What mattered was what Trump wanted.

What he was threatening was theft—a breach of the eighth commandment. And he seemed willing to entertain the possibility of breaking the sixth commandment in order to get it. Had there been any military action, it certainly would not have been a just war by any definition.

Some Christian leaders regularly speak to political issues they believe matter. So I wonder: does Greenland matter? Does it matter that the president of the United States repeatedly threatened to annex Greenland, one way or another, with or without their consent?  

The lives of the unborn matter. But I would submit that the lives of the people of Greenland and Denmark (and Canada) also matter. The sixth commandment as it applies to the unborn matters, but other commandments matter as well.

Second, Trump’s use of ICE and his defense of their most egregious conduct. Since his second term began in 2025, ICE agents have been prominent in the news. It’s not just that there are so many more of them; it’s what they are doing. Their use of masks to conceal their identity and their tactics—tactics which police officers would never get away with—are deeply concerning. It worries me that what was once considered unreasonable search and seizure is, on the part of ICE, becoming commonplace. It worries me that people are being detained simply because they look like they might be immigrants and don’t happen to have a birth certificate on them. It worries me to see people whisked away in vans by men in masks, rather than properly charged, arrested, and fairly represented in court. It worries me that they are now, apparently, allowed to enter homes without a warrant.

And then there’s what happened to Renee Good and Alex Pretti. Both were peacefully protesting when they were shot. Pretti appeared to be disarmed and pinned to the ground by a number of ICE agents when he was allegedly shot multiple times.  

I saw the reaction of many evangelical leaders to the protesters who interrupted that church service. In that case, the protesters were wrong, and I understand the outrage. I also remember the reaction to Charlie Kirk’s murder. His death was tragic and deserved to be condemned. But what concerns me about the death of Pretti in particular is that it was carried out by federal agents and has not yet been widely condemned by the administration or those on the right. Instead, I have heard evangelical Christians offering excuses: it was chaotic, protesters were whistling, he was armed.** What they seem to forget is that it was also chaotic in Ottawa, that the truckers had been sounding their horns for weeks, and if we were American some of us also would have been armed. When we were assaulted by police even American evangelicals were outraged on our behalf. I worry that the lack of similar outrage in the case of Pretti is due to the fact that they don’t agree with him, they don’t like his politics, and would prefer ICE be allowed to carry out its mandate unhindered. It’s a case of unequal weights and measures. It is partisan politics rather than a principled stand for righteousness.  

Third, Trump’s threats against journalists. Over the years, Trump has made many threats against his enemies, whom he recently admitted he hates. Two decades ago, this alone would have been enough to turn the evangelical Church against him. Trump, however, seems to get away with it. Meanwhile, those who stand up to him, who speak against him, who write articles that anger him, are in danger of being sued and even charged.

Not long ago, a number of Democrats made a video advising that in some cases it was lawful for soldiers to disobey their superiors. Though they were morally and ethically correct, Trump called this sedition, said that they should be arrested, and claimed that their message was punishable by death. More recently, he threatened a paper for sharing the results of a poll that indicated declining support.

I have struggled with evangelical support for Trump from the start. I’ve never been able to understand it. His treatment of women alone—and his bragging about grabbing them by the p**—would have disqualified him from leadership in any other generation but our own.

But what’s done is done. I expect that for many, support for Trump was utilitarian—the ends justified the means. Abortion had to be stopped. Definitions of marriage had to be protected, and gender differences preserved. So evangelicals did as they thought best; a decision was made, and now Trump is president. 

But at this point, if there was any doubt, we are seeing him for who he really is. We already knew he was immoral. We already knew him to be a liar and a bully. No one ever doubted his arrogance and ambition. But there was hope that perhaps he would be good for America, and it was believed he was better than the alternative.

So what now? Those of us who kept our churches open during the lockdowns did so on biblical grounds. It wasn’t a pragmatic decision. It was a principled one. I would simply urge the same today. Stand for what is right, no matter what it costs. Stand even if you must stand alone. Speak not for a party or a man, but for Jesus.

It is possible to address the problem of illegal immigration without violating God’s law. It is possible to advance America’s interests without threatening other nations. It is possible to oppose ungodly Democratic policies and ungodly Republican policies. And it is possible to oppose evil without becoming cruel, to defend truth without losing mercy, and to live lives marked by both righteousness and compassion.

There is a way forward. Instead of loyalty to a party, we give our loyalty to Jesus. It is tempting to give in to partisanship, but there is a danger that in doing so we may be heard calling evil good, and good evil (Isaiah 5:20).

Perhaps it is time for the evangelical Church in America to say no to both parties, lest our names—and the name of our Saviour—become attached to policies, leadership, and conduct so unlike Jesus.

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* This is from a document titled, The Church Must Gather, which I co-authored with Joel Boot and which was published on the Liberty Coalition website

** Some who now blame the man because he was legally carrying a firearm are the same people who zealously defend that right. Many Christians—even pastors—carry while preaching or in public life. If a confrontation arose and they were shot, would the fact that they were carrying make it acceptable? Of course not. When Alex Pretti was confronted by federal agents in Minneapolis, he was not seen brandishing a weapon at the moment of the shooting; bystander video shows him holding a phone and moving toward help, not attacking anyone. Witness statements and video footage indicate he was attempting to assist a woman who had been pushed to the ground when agents engaged him, pinned him, and ultimately shot him multiple times. I know what it looks like to do just that. In Ottawa in 2022, I was assaulted for doing exactly what this man was trying to do—helping someone who had been thrown to the ground. For my efforts I was kicked and struck with batons. I will never forget what I saw that day; the brutality toward peaceful protesters was appalling. What happened to Alex looked much like what I saw in Ottawa—except that none of us were shot or killed.  Why did American evangelicals take a sympathetic interest in what happened to us in Ottawa, but not in what happened to protesters in Minneapolis? This is what I mean by unequal weights and measures.  

After my experience in Ottawa, I was interviewed by a very understanding Allie Beth Stuckey. But her recent posts on X suggest far less understanding for Alex. What changed? The answer is deeply unsettling. When actions that provoke outrage and grief in one situation elicit cold indifference in another, we have taken our first step toward the dehumanization that, in so many generations, has led to atrocity.