Why I Don’t Want America to be a Christian Nation

To be clear, I am a Christian.

Every morning I curl up in the dimly lit corner of my living room for an hour to be present with God. To listen. To learn. To simply be. Daily I unfurl my white knuckles over life, politics, money, relationships, and circumstances and give God access to every bit of me. And if God wants to correct, affirm, strip away, or reinforce any of it, I consent. Active trust, not static doctrine.

And I don’t want America to be a Christian nation.

I used to.

Ten years ago I was standing with a friend at a playground watching our kids run through the bark chips. She shared how following Jesus didn’t include her conviction that our government should be Christian. I was confounded. But why on earth not!? I left the playground, not defensive, but perplexed.

I trusted her. Not as a supreme source of governing wisdom, but as someone who earnestly gives God access to every bit of her. I considered our conversation for weeks, and the more I spent time in scriptures (and the more I watched how Christians governed where they could), the more I agreed with her.

Here’s why.

First, it seems Jesus wasn’t interested in ushering in God’s kingdom through reforming political systems in his day. Which was a bit shocking. God’s people were under the oppressive thumb of Roman authority. God had promised over and over again that a time was coming where the Jewish people would be free from oppression and full of glory. They waited for a promised Messiah (‘Christ’) to fulfill the promise.

So when Jesus came, and he didn’t end Roman occupation nor reinstate Jewish power, his faith community was perplexed. Even his cousin was confused – ‘Are you sure you’re the Messiah? Because it seems you’re more preoccupied with freeing the sick from illness than freeing us from political oppression?’ (my paraphrase). It was confusing.

Jesus didn’t transform the government – he transformed people.

Why? If Jesus had only 3 years in active ministry to overtly embody God’s love and authority in the world, why didn’t he restore the Israel nation and topple Rome? Imagine the global display of authority and power – show them God’s boss! But Jesus didn’t. Was it because he was incapable? (I think not.)

Which brings me to my second point. Maybe Jesus didn’t usher in God’s kingdom by reinstating Jewish governing power because he knew it would fail. That we would fail.

I’m going to speculate here, because I’m only human and I refuse to claim I know God’s mind (although others do with brazen confidence these days). But my guess is that God knew transforming a governing system to reflect God’s Kingdom would utterly fail. Why?

God had done something like it before.

God designed a Big Beautiful System to partner with people (to help them see their sin and reconcile with God on a regular basis). But it failed. Not because the system was flawed, but because people were. While the system helped reveal their sin, it couldn’t empower them to overcome it. Eventually adherence to the Big Beautiful System of Revealing and Reconciling became heartless. People missed the point entirely but thought themselves righteous for having the right belief and the right spiritual activity.

Meanwhile, they filled God with sorrow and righteous anger.

So when Jesus came, instead of influencing a system to enforce righteousness, he came instead to demonstrate it. He embodied what God intended all along (read: God of the Old Testament = God of the New Testament). Jesus came to show, not legislate, how to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God.  

Where? Mostly in small villages. With who? The Jewish and non-Jews. People of status and people without. The betrayers and the faithful. The poor and the wealthy. Simply put: anyone open-minded and spiritually hungry. How? Eating meals. Healing disease. Praying alone. Preaching in synagogues and fields. Long walks with his students (disciples). Touching the untouchable.

How totally unexpected from the long-awaited Messiah.

How entirely offensive. But not to pagans.

It was offensive to the people who claimed righteousness through right doctrine and spiritual activity. 

In Jesus’ day, it was mostly the Pharisees, Sadducees, and scribes.

They were angry that a man outside their Jewish power circle was claiming (and demonstrating) spiritual authority. But if we tried a teensy bit to believe best intent, perhaps the Pharisees, Sadducees, and scribes truly felt that they were opposing a heretic and defending God. (Years ago I heard a teaching praising the faithfulness of the Pharisees. They were so impressively obedient. But how tragic that they missed a key cornerstone of God’s Kingdom: compassion. Preach.) So perhaps it was misplaced faithfulness. Or maybe it was eagerness to protect their power status within their Jewish system. Perhaps it was both.

The point is that, either by misplaced faithfulness or eagerness for power, it was God’s people who were offended by God’s kingdom. (Oh Lord, gives us eyes to see and ears to hear.)

So I don’t think a nation, with power and policies to mandate the right doctrine and spiritual activity, pleases God.

I think people choosing to be humble does. I think bold professions of faith does. I think trust in suffering does. I think dethroning our desires does. I think giving God access to correct our misplaced faithfulness does. I think praying for our enemy does. I think giving away our money does. I think soaking in the sunset does.

While I believe that a government should protect our right (everyone’s right) to spiritual practices, policies/laws can’t actually transform us. History is a good teacher. We became heartless in God’s Big Beautiful System before. And we’d do it again. I simply don’t trust us. (Cue flashback of whining ‘We want a king like those other nations’, and God reluctantly agreeing. And if that didn’t work out too well then…)

So should America be a Christian nation?

This question seems to be a crucible one.

If your answer is yes, it gets a bit more hairy. (What do you mean by Christian? Which interpretation of scripture? Which denominational stance? Who decides? Can women lead? Are we anti-war? How do we govern non-Christians without moral coercion?)

When my answer shifted to no, things changed.

Specifically, my voting changed.

If helpful, here’s how.

I don’t think a government should tell people who they can marry. So I’d vote in favor of same sex marriage despite my interpretation of scriptures that God’s plan is designed for a man and a woman. I believe that government should protect life. So I’d vote against policies that support elective-abortion and the death penalty. I think a government should be reflective of all its people and not show favoritism towards certain races, ages, or religions. So I’d vote against hanging the 10 Commandments in any public building. I think a government should provide scientifically sound, not emotionally validating, curriculum on human biology. So I’d vote against sex curriculum being taught in public schools that suggest ‘people’ get pregnant, not women.

Just to name a few examples.

Nuance.

In the last nine years, nuance has rudely disrupted my life. It messed with my sense of security and righteousness. My black-and-white lens of God’s Word and Way made things feel safe and predictable. More importantly, it made me on the ‘right side’. (If I had more time, I’d tell you when God began to shake my spiritual snow globe in August of 2017 in the back pew of my church, but it’s a long story.)

If you are skeptical of me, you should be.

But luckily, God told us how to know if someone is truly following God’s way or not. Shockingly, it’s not by right doctrine or spiritual activity or the way they vote.

Are they full of love? Are they joyful regardless of circumstances? Are they peace makers? Are they patient? Are they kind to their enemies? Do they speak and do goodness? Are they gentle in their words and being? Do they demonstrate self-control?

Truthfully? It’s not me.

Be skeptical.

But if you care to watch closely, I am becoming these things. Ever so slowly. Measure me, not by my perfection, but my progress. True transformation of character is gruelingly slow. It requires long years of sitting with God, consenting to God’s correction and guidance, and developing the courage to live out God’s Kingdom ways (even if it offends God’s people).

But now for a massive plot twist.

I think America would benefit from being a Christian nation.

I think God’s Way is outrageously liberating and healing for every human soul.

I think an immigration system that welcomes refugees from all over (regardless of how we may or may not financially benefit) reflects the radically inclusive Kingdom of God. I think a social services program that offers supplemental aid to those unable to access resources reflects the generous Kingdom of God. I think a judicial system that maintains order while honoring the dignity and redemptive quality in every human (no matter the cost) reflects the merciful Kingdom of God. I think having high moral standards of our elected presidents – of honesty, decency, and humility - reflects the Kingdom of God. And in God’s Kingdom, the ends would never justify an unkind, unjust, uncharitable means. Ever.

I think a truly Christian nation that looks like the Kingdom of God would deeply benefit humankind. And be an utter failure.  

If political systems reward money, coercion, status and power (on all sides of the political spectrum), then I don’t think a Christian nation would survive. I think a Christian nation would be a fiscal disaster. I think it would appear weak: forgiving, humble, generous, hospitable, non-defensive, meek, and merciful (can you imagine the political ads and debates!?! Snore-fest.). I think it would be less safe (thank you pastor Francis Chan for enlightening me about the ‘idol’ of safety). I’m not convinced that people want a Christian nation.

I think most people want America to be a powerful, strong nation, and I’m not sure that’s a Jesus-kind.  

So what now?

Instead of answers, I have more questions:

  If you want a Christian nation, what do you mean by Christian?

  Should it reflect the Kingdom of God that Jesus describes in Matthew 5?

  Should it be led by people who display Jesus’ character?

  At what cost to perception, power, and status?

Maybe the better question for us Christians is this:

God of All Creation, of All Nations, of All Time, what do YOU want?

Not my pastor. Not my governor. Not my political party. Not my spouse. Not my employer. Not my friends. Not my parents. Heck, not even me. How do YOU want your love and authority to be embodied in the world right now?

I consent to your correction and guidance (although I’m a little nervous – what if the people I admire and follow have been wrong!? Then where’s my place of belonging? What if I’ve been wrong? Oh God, give me courage.). You get access to all the bits of me. I give you permission to correct or affirm my interpretation of scripture, perception of the Church, ideas about sex curriculum in schools, thoughts legal marriage, view of the death penalty, position on abortion, and stance on immigration. All of it.

I loosen my grip.

Not because the world is weakening my devotion, but because perhaps I’ve furled my fingers over the very bits that you want to correct.

Active trust requires me to surrender all. Even my sense of right belief, right spiritual activity, and right way of voting.

Oh God, be gentle but clear.

(And if I could make a plea. Please don’t just bless America - please heal America. Because I think we actually enjoy disliking each other right now. I think we’re intoxicated with self-righteousness. Please heal us. Start in me.)