Here are a few reflections on why I think a more inclusive and pluralistic approach to religion and society is essential for the flourishing of both democracy and faith. Drawing from American secularist principles (such as the First Amendment’s commitment to religious freedom) and Christian theology (using H. Richard Niebuhr) I’ll explain why I’m deeply troubled by Christian nationalism and why I was eager to include Andy Fiala’s book in my series.
The United States has long been a pluralist nation, built on the foundation of welcoming people from diverse religious backgrounds. From its beginning, the country offered a refuge to those fleeing religious conflicts, including the many expressions of Christianity that had fought bitterly against one another in Europe. Here, these diverse Christian traditions coexisted peacefully alongside people from numerous other religious traditions—Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and an increasing number of secular and non-religious perspectives.
This pluralism, enshrined in the First Amendment, ensures that individuals have the freedom to express their religion without fear of government intervention or sanctions. I see this commitment to religious liberty as one of the great strengths of the United States. It has fostered a society where diverse beliefs and practices coexist, enriching culture and contributing to the broader public good.
Christian nationalism, however, challenges this pluralistic ideal by suggesting that one particular expression of Christianity should dominate public life and governance. This narrow and often exclusionary interpretation of Christianity undermines the inclusive spirit that I believe has been essential to the nation’s identity and success. As a Christian—I celebrated my fortieth anniversary of ordination to Christian ministry last July—I find this version of Christianity alien. It imposes a rigid and politicized vision of religion that conflicts with the diversity of beliefs—both within Christianity and beyond—that have long coexisted in our society.
My understanding of Christian nationalism is the belief that a nation—the United States in this version—ought to be governed by explicitly “Christian” laws and principles, often to the exclusion of other religious or secular frameworks. This view typically involves the belief that national identity is inherently tied to “Christianity” and that society should reflect “Christian values,” even to the extent of punishing those who deviate from these laws (I place quotes around “Christian” because Christian nationalism represents only one interpretation of Christianity among many and does not reflect the diverse traditions within the faith).
For example, I have seen advocates of Christian nationalism call for the reintroduction of biblical punishments for behaviors they consider immoral, such as criminalizing certain sexual practices or restricting public expression that conflicts with their interpretation of Christianity. I also hear rhetoric about mandating Christian prayers in public schools and returning women to a “biblical” place in society—that is, subservient to men. These positions concern me because they challenge pluralism, individual freedom, and the separation of church and state.
H. Richard Niebuhr provides a helpful framework for critiquing Christian nationalism. For those unfamiliar with his work, Niebuhr (the brother of the more widely known Reinhold Niebuhr) is especially concerned with the ways Christians have historically engaged with the culture around them. In his influential 1951 book Christ and Culture, he outlines five types of relationships between Christianity and society.
The first type, “Christ Against Culture,” separates Christianity from society, viewing culture as fundamentally corrupt. While Christian nationalism might claim this stance in its critique of cultural “decay,” it contradicts this model by actively seeking control over culture through political power. Typically, those Christians who have taken this viewpoint have separated themselves from society.
The second type, “Christ of Culture,” aligns Christianity with cultural values, often harmonizing faith and societal norms. Christian nationalism most closely resembles this viewpoint. However, it risks reducing Christianity to a tool for cultural conformity, merging faith with national identity in a way that dilutes the transformative message of the gospels.
The third type, “Christ Above Culture,” synthesizes faith and culture, seeing Christ as the fulfillment of cultural aspirations. Christian nationalism misapplies this perspective by claiming a divine mandate for the United States, assuming that the nation’s goals are uniquely aligned with G*d’s will.
The fourth type, “Christ and Culture in Paradox,” recognizes the tension between faith and society, where Christians navigate both realms without conflating them. Christian nationalism rejects this tension, instead asserting that “Christian values” should dominate public life, overlooking the biblical teaching that the Realm of G*d is “not of this world.”
The fifth type, “Christ Transforming Culture,” seeks to redeem culture through love, justice, and peace. While Christian nationalism claims to transform society, its methods—relying on exclusion and coercion—stand in stark contrast to the New Testament’s call for humility, inclusivity, and sacrificial service.
Niebuhr’s typology helps me understand the flaws in Christian nationalism. It blurs distinctions, using faith as a justification for imposing a narrow, politicized version of Christianity on society. This version of Christianity feels alien to me as it contradicts Jesus’s message of love and liberation, replacing it with control and exclusion.
Of course, those who espouse Christian nationalism are free to believe what they want—that is precisely what religious liberty guarantees. The problem arises when they try to impose those beliefs on the rest of us, disregarding the pluralism and freedom at the heart of the American experiment. That, to me, is the core issue. But Christian nationalism is not simply a political question; it’s also a theological one. Being a follower of Jesus Christ calls for something far more profound: a practice that transcends boundaries, promotes humility and justice, and respects the freedom and dignity of all people.
As I reflect on the implications of Christian nationalism, I find myself wanting to recommit to the values of religious liberty, inclusivity, and a faith that seeks to serve the common good rather than dominate it.
+Ab. Andy