Few debates reveal the fault lines of American public life more clearly than the question of whether the United States is, at its core, a Christian nation. At stake is more than religion alone. The issue touches power, identity, and belonging: who is imagined to represent the nation, whose values are treated as normative, and whose place in public life appears most secure. As Whitehead and Perry (2020) argue, Christian nationalism is best understood not simply as a religious conviction, but as a political and cultural project closely tied to the Christian Right and committed to preserving Christianity’s privileged place in American public life.
A central phrase in this discussion is “Judeo-Christian values.” Many people use the term to refer to ideas such as justice, honesty, compassion, and moral responsibility. Within Christian nationalist discourse, however, the phrase often does more than name ethical principles. It can also serve as a political claim about which culture and moral vision should define American identity. In that sense, it helps shape whose way of life is treated as most fully and legitimately American (Gaston, 2019).
This perspective also helps explain why Christian nationalism often gains force during periods of social change. As the country becomes more secular, more diverse, and more accepting of different ways of life, some conservative Christians feel that the nation they once knew is slipping away. From their point of view, these developments can appear less like the normal workings of democracy and more like signs of cultural decline. As a result, political action can come to feel urgent—not only as a way to defend certain beliefs, but also as a way to restore a moral and social order they believe has been weakened (Whitehead & Perry, 2020).
This dynamic helps explain why many Christian conservatives are drawn to the Christian Right. The movement gives organized political form to their values, fears, and sense of collective identity. Viewed this way, the Christian Right is not simply a movement about theology or traditional morality. It can also be understood as a form of identity politics, in which the interests of a historically dominant group—especially white Christians—are presented as though they are the interests of the nation as a whole (Perry & Grubbs, 2025).
Once Christianity is treated as essential to American identity, it becomes easier to draw boundaries between insiders and outsiders. People who fit the dominant image of the nation are more readily seen as “real” Americans, while those outside that image may be viewed as less trustworthy, less patriotic, or less fully part of the political community. For that reason, Christian nationalism is not only about religion in public life. It is also about belonging, exclusion, and whose values are recognized as culturally legitimate (Whitehead & Perry, 2020).
Race is also central to this story. Christian nationalism is not identical to whiteness, but in the United States the two have often overlapped. Many scholars argue that it has been shaped by white cultural assumptions and by a desire to preserve a social order in which white Christians remain at the center. This helps explain why it is often linked to resistance against racial change, immigration, and multicultural democracy (Everton, 2024; Perry & Grubbs, 2025).
Supporters of this movement often connect their views to civic virtue, the idea that freedom depends on citizens possessing strong moral character. The Christian Right argues that this kind of moral discipline cannot be sustained apart from Christianity. In that view, Christian values are not merely one option among many; they are treated as the moral foundation of liberty itself. This allows the movement to present the defense of Christian moral order as a civic duty rather than only a religious concern (Agresto, 1977; Gallagher, 2024).
Another important feature of Christian nationalism is nostalgia. It often looks back to an imagined golden age—especially the 1950s—as a time when America supposedly possessed a clearer identity, stronger religion, and better morals. Yet this vision is highly selective and often overlooks the exclusions and inequalities of that period. In political rhetoric, this nostalgia can make the recovery of past dominance sound like a simple return to national greatness (Whitehead & Perry, 2020).
Ultimately, Christian nationalism is best understood not simply as a defense of religion, but as a struggle over power, identity, and belonging. It raises questions about who counts as a true American, whose values should shape public life, and whether a diverse democracy can make room for many ways of life. For that reason, the debate extends far beyond church politics and speaks directly to the meaning of citizenship in the United States (Whitehead & Perry, 2020; Perry & Grubbs, 2025).
My final personal conviction is that Christian nationalism is not merely a political mistake; it is a spiritual temptation that can wound the body of Christ from within. When the church confuses the kingdom of God with the power of the nation, it forgets that Christ said, “My kingdom is not of this world,” and it risks trading the way of the cross for the pursuit of control. Jesus did not call His people to grasp for dominance, but to deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow Him. He taught that greatness is found in serving, not ruling over others, and that whatever is done to the least is done unto Him. A church that baptizes fear, sanctifies exclusion, or places its hope in political strength more than in the lordship of Christ may gain the praise of the world while grieving the heart of the gospel. And the warning of Jesus still stands: what does it profit to gain the whole world and forfeit the soul?
Minister A Francine Green I May 2026