Christian nationalism in the United States is more than Christians being involved in politics. It is a way of thinking that blends a certain version of Christianity with American identity, as if the two are meant to be one and the same. Researchers Andrew Whitehead and Samuel Perry describe it as the belief that the U.S. was founded by Christians for Christians, with God’s special blessing, and that the government should enforce that vision of the faith.

The problem is, this story does not match the historical record. The Constitution never mentions Christianity, and the First Amendment makes it clear there is no official religion. Many of the founders were not orthodox Christians, and they built a system meant to protect religious diversity. Over time, though, a kind of “civil religion” grew up, treating national symbols like the flag and the anthem as sacred, and often mixing them with certain church traditions until it is hard to tell where faith ends and politics begin.

In a thriving democracy, faith can still have a vibrant role, but it looks different from Christian nationalism. Healthy civic engagement means people of all faiths and backgrounds can bring their values into public life without trying to dominate others or control the government through religion. It means voting, speaking out, and working for justice in ways that respect others’ rights and uphold democratic norms. Christians have long played important roles in movements for abolition, civil rights, and poverty relief, not by controlling the government, but by challenging it to live up to its ideals. This kind of engagement draws on faith as a source of compassion and courage, not as a tool for power. It welcomes pluralism, protects freedom, and keeps religion from being twisted into something it was never meant to be.

In practice, Christian nationalism tends to focus on Bible passages about conquest or “chosen nations” while overlooking Jesus’ teachings about humility, mercy, and caring for the marginalized. Part of its pull comes from genuine fears; fears of losing a sense of belonging, of watching communities and traditions fade. For some, the drive to “protect Christian America” feels like guarding cherished values and ways of life. Those concerns are real, but lasting security for any community can only come from solutions that don’t trample others’ rights. The healthiest way to honor those values is by working together across differences, building a society where faith remains vibrant without being imposed, and where protecting one tradition never means diminishing another.

The effects are real. Elevating one religious identity in law and culture pushes others to the margins, weakening true religious freedom. Globally, it changes how Christianity is seen, replacing its universal and counter‑cultural message with a distinctly American civil religion. Studies also show that people who strongly hold Christian nationalist beliefs are more likely to tolerate political violence and reject democratic norms. As Andrew Seidel writes in The Founding Myth: Why Christian Nationalism Is Un-American, “There is no freedom of religion without a government that is free from religion.”

Not everyone in the church agrees with this direction. Groups like Christians Against Christian Nationalism call it “a distortion of the gospel” and urge believers to separate faith from state power. The Baptist Joint Committee has documented how Christian nationalist rhetoric fueled the January 6th attack on the U.S. Capitol. Some networks, like United Methodists for Kairos Response, go further, explicitly arguing that U.S. Christian nationalism and political Zionism are both forms of religious nationalism that use faith to justify state power. The Kairos Center for Religions, Rights, and Social Justice works with Palestinian Christian leaders and Jewish anti‑Zionist groups to challenge these ideologies worldwide.

Speaking out against this is not blasphemy. In the Bible, prophets confronted kings, and Jesus overturned the tables of the money‑changers in the temple. Faithfulness has often meant challenging the political‑religious alliances of the day. Naming Christian nationalism for what it is, and resisting it, is not an attack on Christianity. It is an act of loyalty to its deepest teachings.