Persecuted Chinese Christians Still Need Prayer After Prison

Police continue to harass and monitor believers long after their release.

Illustration by Mallory Rentsch Tlapek / Source Images: Getty

In late May, Christian journalist Zhang Zhan attended a daily Zoom prayer meeting organized by members of Early Rain Covenant Church (ERCC). The former lawyer and activist had spent four years in prison for reporting about the COVID-19 outbreak in Wuhan.

“To be honest, I am truly afraid,” she told the prominent Reformed house church in Chengdu, China, through tears. “I am actually not tough, but a person who cries often. … It is painful because it is inconvenient for me to attend a church since I am being surveilled. But I long to see my brothers and sisters [in Christ], yet I dare not visit anybody.”

A week and a half later, she shared on WeChat that she was being questioned and threatened by local police, who warned that if she crossed the “red line” again, they would send her back to prison. Zhang wrote: “Whose red line are you all protecting? Is the life of the people the red line? Or is it ‘the opinion of superiors’? I don’t want to go [to jail], and I’m not the one who should go in.”

A few days later, a scheduled interview with Zhang with Christianity Today was canceled after her encrypted messaging app account suddenly disappeared.

“She is still in the eye of the storm, bearing a lot of pressure, [including] endless interrogation or police visits to her residence,” Wang Jianhong, the UK-based founder of the Zhang Zhan Concern Group, told CT. “She has to be discreet when she circumvents [China’s Great Firewall]. Being connected to overseas [people] poses great risks for her.”

Zhang’s post-jail sustained surveillance is not unique among Chinese Christians who have served their sentence and are released. Missionary John Cao, ERCC elder Li Yingqiang, and Guizhou pastor Yang Hua also continue to live under scrutiny as authorities monitor their whereabouts, their social media posts, and who they meet. Once officers spot “suspicious” activities—such as speaking out about their time in prison or connecting with fellow believers—they threaten to return them to prison.

Speaking out for the voiceless

Zhang started to get involved with human rights and political activism after becoming a Christian in 2015. Before that, she had worked as a financial advisor at a securities firm in Shanghai, until the firm fired her for refusing to falsify financial data. Her conversion further changed her life trajectory.

“As a Christian, I do things based on the gospel,” Zhang told Radio Free Asia in 2019. “I hope Christians can push for this country’s peaceful reform or change in politics. I hope to push for some breakthrough.”

Authorities suspended her lawyer license in 2016 in retaliation for signing a petition against new rules that would prevent Chinese lawyers from forming groups, gathering signatures, or issuing open letters. In 2019, she was detained for 65 days after she held up an umbrella in downtown Shanghai in support of Hong Kong’s pro-democracy protests and called for an end to the Communist Party’s rule.

When Zhang read an online post in early 2020 about the government’s silence on the newly discovered coronavirus, she took a train to Wuhan, arriving on February 1, 2020, before the city went into lockdown. Initially, she tried to pass out gospel tracts. But she quickly realized she needed to let the rest of the world know how dire the situation had become. As a citizen journalist, she walked around Wuhan with her smartphone capturing the city’s empty streets and crowded hospitals, exposing the Chinese government’s inadequate response to COVID-19.

In May 2020, authorities detained and accused Zhang of “picking quarrels and provoking trouble,” making her the first of four citizen journalists jailed for reporting on the COVID-19 outbreak.

A month after Zhang’s imprisonment, she started a hunger strike to protest her detention. In December 2020, the image of her frail body in a wheelchair during her trial worried international human rights groups. Zhang pleaded not guilty, rejecting an offer for more lenient punishment if she admitted her “offense.”

“She barely spoke except for saying citizens’ speech should not be censored, to protest against the ‘illegal trial,’” her lawyer, Zhang Keke, told CBS News. The Shanghai court sentenced her to four years in prison that day.

To avoid punishment and force-feeding, Zhang decided to go on intermittent hunger strikes in the following months. In July 2023, her weight reportedly dropped to 82 pounds, almost half her normal weight. Zhang’s deteriorating health sent her to the hospital for digestive diseases linked to malnutrition.

With months left until her expected release in May 2024, supporters worried that Zhang would die in prison and called on the Chinese government to release her. Their fears were only abated on May 13, when fellow activist Peng Yonghe filmed a video of the newly freed Zhang clad in pajamas at her brother’s house, thanking everyone for their support.

Two weeks later, she showed up on Early Rain’s “5 p.m. in China” Zoom prayer meeting. In an oft-rambling monologue, she spoke of how she prayed for a fellow prisoner’s runny nose and another’s toothache and saw God heal them both. She also revealed that she felt God calling her to persist in her hunger strike, even if her loved ones didn’t support her actions.

“I really struggled to see my family members under tremendous pressure,” she said on the Zoom call. “They do not believe in Christ. I cannot bear to see them constantly frightened as I continue to share statements that would upset them as well as the police. But I feel like this is what God wants me to do: to offer my body as a living sacrifice.”

For now, Zhang is still able to post on the social platform X. On July 6, she uploaded a video of herself walking in a Shanghai park, asking if anyone would like to come meet her and have a Bible study together. “This city is beautiful, the park is pretty, but the freedom of religion is not allowed,” she lamented.

“These people are absolutely lawless”

Meanwhile, in Changsha, the capital of Hunan Province, another recently released Christian, John Cao, is also being monitored. Cao served a seven-year sentence for “organizing illegal border crossings”—a fabricated charge targeting his Christian ministry—and was finally freed this March. Though he is back in his hometown, he is unable to freely move around or apply for a passport, as authorities refuse to give him a Chinese ID. His wife and two adult sons live in the United States.

Cao wrote on a Christian blog that on June 4, the anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre, police detained him for more than 20 hours without reason. (Often, people regarded as “sensitive” in China are rounded up on that day.) Two days later, he saw “two worker-like individuals installing a high-definition camera” pointed at his mother’s house, where Cao is temporarily staying. Authorities also installed two more cameras at the entrance of the apartment complex.

He noted that the cameras not only track his movements but also monitor who comes to visit. “The police have let it be known that they will not go after people who only visit me once, but people who come to visit me a second time must enter the public security’s records.” He believes the goal is to completely isolate him.

Cao told CT that police detained him for more than 10 hours a second time in June. When he asked if he had committed any crime, the public security officer said no, but that it was a directive from their superiors. “These people are absolutely lawless,” he said. “The reason I stopped writing [on a blog] is because they hinted at me that if I continue to write, they will ban me from leaving [the country] and not grant me my personal identification. I told them, ‘Fine.’ Hence, I will stop writing for now.”

Pastors “fakely released”

The harassment that released prisoners face don’t have an expiration date. Li Yingqiang, an elder at ERCC, is still experiencing surveillance and repeat detentions after officials released him in 2020. Authorities first arrested Li in December 2018 during a crackdown on the church and its outspoken pastor, Wang Yi. Because the church broached sensitive topics like speaking out against President Xi Jinping’s persecution of churches, it found itself in the government’s crosshairs. In 2019, a Chengdu court sentenced Wang to nine years in prison for “inciting to subvert state power.”

Li spent eight months in prison before authorities released him, sending him back to his hometown in Hubei Province, where he was on bail pending trial for a year. Since then, he has returned to Chengdu, where he continues to lead the church as it meets in smaller groups and online.

Because Li continued his ministry, authorities would often summon him to the police station for questioning and monitor him and his family, at one point following him every time he went out and preventing visitors from coming to their home. Education officials threatened to take his children away because he refused to send his children to public school, choosing instead to send them to the church’s unregistered Christian school. In November, authorities detained Li for 10 days after he conducted a baptism and led Communion at ERCC’s church plant in Dazhou, Sichuan Province.

Police in Sichuan warned him in 2020 that, because Chengdu authorities have officially disbanded ERCC, they will not allow the church to continue gathering and worshiping. As long as Li remains in Chengdu, they vowed to stop him from doing ministry.

“From an eternal point of view, is there any other threshing floor that is more worthy for you to invest your whole life in than China?” Li asked his congregation in a recent sermon to encourage them to persevere. “From a secular standpoint, ‘the garbage time of history’ may be the time for the church to excavate hard soil, ready hearts, and experience trials, preparing for the great spiritual harvest ahead.”

Over in Guizhou Province, authorities are also tracking Yang Hua, pastor of Guiyang Livingstone Church, whom authorities released from prison in 2019 after he spent two years behind bars for “divulging state secrets.” Authorities cracked down on his house church because it had grown rapidly and purchased a larger gathering space in an office building, all the while refusing to join the government-sanctioned Three-Self church.

Yet even after his release, Yang “remained imprisoned as police kept him under their relentless scrutiny,” China Aid reported. During major political events, sensitive anniversaries, or official visits to Guizhou by foreign diplomats, authorities either placed him under house arrest or forced him to travel outside of the province.

In 2021, Yang was planning to travel to Qingdao to meet with Christian friends when police took him into the station to prevent him from leaving. An officer interrogated him and began beating him, slapping his cheek “with such force that I could hardly hear any sounds afterward,” the pastor told China Aid. “He then started cursing and said that it is now the world of the Chinese Communist Party.” Once they released Yang, he was rushed to the hospital.

A friend of Yang, who asked not to be named for security reasons, noted that although Yang is no longer behind bars, he was “fakely released.”

“[Yang] has been monitored 24/7,” the friend said. “While he is relatively free in his town, if he goes to other cities, they will dispatch police to watch him closely. From the time he’s on the road to checking into his hotel, they escort him all the way.”

- More from CJ Wu

News

Churches Find a Homelessness Solution in Their Own Backyards

Anna Broadway

Zoning regulations give congregations more leeway to provide permanent or temporary housing.

Settled / Facebook

Jamal Love was trying to fix his wife’s bike fender so she could keep riding it to work. For most of their marriage, he would have tried to figure it out on his own. But this time, he realized he could turn to a neighbor for help: a fellow tiny house resident on the property of a church in St. Paul, Minnesota.

Love, 50, and his wife had recently moved into the six-house settlement, alongside five people coming out of long-term homelessness. Unlike some such communities, theirs looks like a modern housing development—but with much smaller buildings. The couple initially saw themselves as coming in as “intentional neighbors,” there to give, serve, and be generous.

But their shared life in the church’s tiny houses soon began to change their perspective. “We were wrong about all those things. We received community, and we were the ones who needed it in the first place,” Love said. “We received something greater.”

A unique protection

Sacred Settlement Mosaic is one of a growing number of tiny house communities launched to help address homelessness. It’s a partnership between the church that owns the land—Mosaic Christian Community in St. Paul—and Settled, a nonprofit that works to develop “sacred settlements.”

Churches have a unique opportunity to help with both homelessness and housing, given their combination of frequent land wealth and strong legal protection.

“The number one reason more affordable housing doesn’t get built in our nation is because of ‘not in my backyard’ sentiment,” said Gabrielle Clowdus, the founder of Settled. “NIMBY opposition is very strong.”

But churches have something even stronger, though many don’t know it: the 2000 Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act. The federal law offers religious freedom protection by limiting regulations on how churches use their property.

“That is like a divine golden ticket from heaven saying, ‘Your land is set apart. It is holy and sacred, and it is intended to invite the poor in,’” Clowdus said.

Claiming those rights can still take a fight in some cases. The Rock church in Castle Rock, Colorado, has sued the city over its repeated interference with them letting people stay in two RVs parked on church property. On July 19, a federal judge ruled that the church can continue its housing until the lawsuit has concluded.

In Minnesota, Settled went through a three-year process to pass a state law that lays out terms for churches to build permanent affordable tiny homes on their land.

The recent Supreme Court ruling in City of Grants Pass v. Johnson, which allows cities to criminalize camping on public land, could increase the urgency of providing additional shelter for people without housing.

Margot Kushel, director of the Benioff Homelessness and Housing Initiative at the University of California San Francisco, thinks tiny homes work better for temporary shelter. Her concerns include the size, frequent lack of indoor plumbing, compliance with building codes, and ability to withstand natural disasters.

The Minnesota law that Settled helped pass requires many of the same building standards as a single-family home, but for structures less than 400 square feet. According to Clowdus, their tiny homes have dehydrating toilets and water tanks, but not indoor plumbing as such. Other tiny home communities involve more basic structures and much shorter stays.

Size and building standards aside, however, Kushel agrees that churches could help provide permanent housing and have a unique ability to intervene. “Churches can move faster,” she said. “They have this separate status, which allows them to get through some of these things that hold things up.”

Jim Dean, executive director of Interfaith Family Shelter in Washington State, saw this firsthand with their newest shelter, Faith Family Village.

Launching the eight-structure shelter on the grounds of Faith Lutheran Church greatly simplified the process. They worked with a hearing examiner on health and safety issues, he said, and operate under a conditional use permit. Almost anywhere else, the shelter would have required a zoning change.

Churches also tend to have different relationships with their neighbors, Dean said. Since they launched Faith Family Village in Everett, two other organizations have tried similar projects on city land. But those groups struggled, he said. “All it takes is one or two neighbors to push back.”

Different models, but emerging leaders

As more churches have opened their land to tiny homes, they’ve taken a range of approaches. Interfaith Family Shelter partners with a number of community and government entities and limits stays to 90 days, per requirements from its license and some grant funding. It also works only with families.

In most of the partnerships, churches provide the land, Dean’s team manages the shelters—including providing case management for all families—and other entities help with things like food or the structures themselves. (Not all of their shelters involve tiny homes. They’ve also turned a former convent into a shelter and have helped a church with a large unused parking lot provide a safe place for people to stay in their cars.)

Green Street Church in Nashville provides a longer timeframe. It has hosted a tiny home community for almost a decade, prior to which it hosted a camp. The Sanctuary is currently comprised of 15 tiny homes and a handful of tents. “Ours are pretty primitive,” pastor Caleb Pickering said, but “for the most part, them staying here is better than where they were.”

Most people stay close to a year. Homes have a locking door and solar panels for charging things like a phone but don’t include power. Residents use shared bathrooms and showers with church-issued key fobs that limit their access within the main church building.

“It’s not a comfortable situation,” Pickering said. “It’s just stable—more stable than trying to pitch a tent on public land.” The church does not have a property manager or provide case management, but they partner with other groups that offer this.

Though many in the community offer informal support for the Sanctuary—especially in the form of frequent food donations—Green Street has remained fairly small, Pickering said.

Several years ago, its organizers discussed a merger with another church, but it ultimately fell through. “There’s that weird little liability thing all the time,” Pickering said. The other church had several young families. The two congregations couldn’t figure out how to balance safety for the children with welcome for Sanctuary residents.

Green Street has few requirements for the Sanctuary: “No drinking, no drugs, no drama”—and an agreement to stay only temporarily. It doesn’t issue leases and has allowed people with prison records to move in, provided they’ll agree to those conditions.

“We do give up things in order to do this,” Pickering said, citing his own kids’ lack of a youth group experience at Green Street. “That’s just an agreement my wife and I made.”

For Love and his wife in St. Paul, their sacrifice involved moving out of the three-bedroom house where they’d raised their son. They still own it but let a family in need stay there.

Under the Settled model, tiny homes provide permanent homes for as long as people want to stay. Clowdus said that’s critical. The PhD work that led her to start Settled showed “a profound loss of family” as one of the root causes of chronic homelessness.

To restore a sense of family, Settled includes five elements in its communities: permanent homes; “intentional neighbors” like Love and his wife; church land, which fosters regular connection; work; and friendship.

“Part of a thriving ecosystem is stability and deep, strong roots,” Clowdus said. “We would never want to rip them out of that dense ecosystem.”

With Settled, residents sign leases and pay rent. Homes are built to withstand Minnesota’s cold winters but don’t have indoor plumbing. Residents share a communal kitchen, shower, and laundry within the main church building. (Building a new settlement requires upgrades to the church building that benefit both residents and the congregation.)

Valerie Roy has lived at a second Settled community in Roseville, Minnesota, since summer 2022.

“It’s really given me my quality of life back,” she said. After more than a decade in chronic homelessness after she lost her New Jersey housing to Hurricane Sandy, she’s started gardening again and applied to a master’s program.

Though not a Christian herself, she welcomes the connections she’s gained by living on church land. “I’m not isolated anymore. I have three different communities.”

Clowdus hopes Settled will provide a model for other churches. She said they have several other communities in various stages of consideration and discernment, plus one in the planning stage. “We believe that any church—regardless of denomination, political affiliation, racial makeup—regardless of any of that, any faith community that has a strong identity of who they are, and because of that strong identity have a radical invitation to hospitality, can have a sacred settlement on their land.”

As cities adjust to their new latitude to break up homeless camps under the latest Supreme Court ruling, churches may have more opportunity than ever.

Clowdus cites their first two host congregations as evidence that Settled’s model can work in many settings. A Nazarene church hosts one settlement, an Evangelical Lutheran church the other. The two congregations have different convictions on some matters, and different ethnic and economic demographics.

Leaders from both churches said they have seen growth in their congregations since they started hosting the settlement. Michael Stetzler was president of the congregation when Prince of Peace Lutheran Church decided to host a settlement. He said at least three new members have cited the settlement as a factor in their decision to join.

In St. Paul, Meredith Campbell, who co-leads Sacred Settlement Mosaic with her husband, has seen similar signs of life.

“We’ve also seen our neighbors on the east side of St. Paul become very interested in the work of Mosaic,” she said, citing both the settlement and an immigrant program that launched around the same time. “Our neighbors are really interested in seeing a church love its neighbors in a tangible way and that has attracted them to Mosaic and, I hope, to Jesus himself.”

Roy said moving into the settlement has started to change long-held negative views of Christians.

“Everybody’s been so kind, even though I’m not Christian and all of them are. It’s really redefined my definition of what Christianity means.”

For Love, an empty nester married for three decades, it’s been a means of refinement during a season when many people might start to coast a bit and focus more on enjoyment. “It’s caused me to put the things I believe into practice in ways I didn’t have to before,” he said.

- More from Anna Broadway

Theology

Why Worship Leaders Need Theologians

Matt Redman

Matt Redman’s call to worship God for all he is.

Matt Redman (centered)

Courtesy of Integrity Music

In Acts 17, the apostle Paul arrives in Athens and discovers something strange—an altar with an inscription to an “unknown god.”

Of course, he expertly turns this moment into a chance to tell the story of the one true God. But it’s always struck me just how unhelpful this inscription must have been for any unfortunate worshipers of this supposed deity—who was both unknown and unknowable.

We know nothing of the nature, character and attributes of this god. We don’t know if this god has performed any mighty deeds, worked any miracles, or won any victories. Nor do we know anything about their appearance. We’re not even given their name. What exactly is required or desired from worshipers? We’re literally given nothing to go on.

For worshipers of Jesus, it’s a completely different story. We worship a God of self-revelation, who wants to be seen and known. Every page of his book reveals him— and not just hints, clues and whispers—but full-on descriptions of who he is, what he’s done, and why he’s so utterly worthy of our worship.

We’re left in no doubt that he is both majestic and merciful, powerful and peaceful, holy and humble, glorious and gracious. The Bible also tells us how best to approach God and what kind of offerings will find favor in his sight.

When it comes to worship, it’s always been clear that we don’t get to make this stuff up.

A worship service might never contain every aspect of God’s truth, but, as the late Marva J. Dawn once reminded us, “worship must never give us untruth.” We also must do our best to not miss key elements of who it is we are encountering.

Twenty years ago, I wrote to key pastors, preachers, and theologians asking them a simple question: “What are some essential themes of Scripture that are lacking in our current worship expressions?”

Many of the replies referenced God as creator, God as judge, and God as Trinity. While they offered positive comments about contemporary worship music, there was a sense of challenge: For the good of the church and the glory of God, we must do better.

A couple of decades later, I wonder how much progress we have made. Worship music has evolved and progressed creatively, showing up across more musical genres than ever before. The production aspects of our expressions have moved forward too. But can we say the same about the lyrical, theological content?

Some modern hymn-style songs hold up well in this area: Hillsong’s “King of Kings,” for example, tells so much of the story of God and mentions 15 of the 25 themes found in the Apostles’ Creed. Phil Wickham’s “Living Hope” covers 11 of those themes. These are singable, beautiful, weighty songs. But looking at the general landscape, we still have much work to do.

One thing I’ve noticed is how much we tend to prefer singing about the helpfulness of God rather than his holiness. We gravitate to the aspects of God that are directly and very obviously beneficial to us—God as shepherd, comforter, refuge, or rescuer.

These are, if you like, songs of helpfulness. But it’s essential that we also have many anthems of his holiness—songs that acclaim God for his worth, whether we’re in the story or not. Songs that lean into themes like grandeur, righteousness, and majesty. Just as the Book of Psalms exemplifies a balance of holiness and helpfulness, we must do likewise.

Much of the responsibility for what we sing in church falls on the worship leaders and songwriters of our day. Worship leaders and worship movements with a public profile must carry their entrustment with a sense of holy awe. It’s not enough to put out a musically captivating new record or to fill an arena. Those things can be wonderful—but they actually become woeful if we’re not handling our sacred subject material with care.

The same call goes out to every local church worship leader. Are we choosing songs that honor God as fully as we can? Or do we sometimes give songs a free pass, not running them through any kind of theological filter, because the musical vibe is simply too compelling to ignore? I love a fresh, innovative, creative expression as much as anyone, but we can have, and must have, both.

Pastors, you also carry authority in this area. You are the gatekeepers of our services. Call us out—urge worship leaders to do better. Ban songs that you think carry too little substance or even contradict Scripture. Point out themes that are missing and that you want us to find songs for (or even write songs for). Don’t let us get away with lackluster theology at the expense of a pleasing musical experience.

Not every song needs to have the lyrical punch of “Crown Him with Many Crowns”—but if too many of our songs are falling so far below the standard required, then please help us to realize that, and to grow. You might not need to give us too much musical advice—but please don’t give us the sole responsibility for all our sung theology.

Many of us, myself included, admit we need assistance in that area. We likely didn’t come into this via seminary or intense theological training; we came in through the avenue of loving music and being able to play or sing.

We humbly recognize we cannot do this on our own. We need help from thinkers, theologians, and pastors. We need to be sharpened by fellow songwriters and worship leaders too.

It’s no accident that the King James Version of the Bible tells us over 1,200 times to behold. We worship a God who wants to be recognized for who he is. My prayer is that the church will grow in this area—seeing ever deeper and truer songs—and leading worship services that help us to behold Jesus like never before.

Matt Redman is a worship leader and songwriter whose songs include “The Heart of Worship,” “Blessed Be Your Name,” and the double-Grammy winning “10,000 Reasons.”

He is the creator of WOR/TH (standing for worship and theology), a series of seminars to equip songwriters, worship leaders, and musicians, with two upcoming events in the US.

- More from Matt Redman

News

Venezuelan Churches Brace for Migration Wave After Disputed Maduro Election

Franco Iacomini

Evangelicals call for peace amid violent crackdown against opposition demonstrators.

A protest in Venezuela against Nicolas Maduro winning the presidential election due to questions surrounding his victory.

Jesús Vargas / Stringer / Getty

Last Sunday, pastor César Mermejo preached about hope in difficult times to his congregation in Maracay, a city of 1.3 million that sits close to the Caribbean coast.

But he did so via a pre-recorded audio file he distributed via WhatsApp, following the Venezuelan government’s advisory against in-person gatherings on Election Day, held July 28.

In his digital broadcast to Comunidad Cristiana Mizpa Dios de Esperanza members, Mermejo reminded them of Psalm 98:1, which affirms that the Lord “has done marvelous things,” while also acknowledging that some in his congregation probably felt more like the speaker in Psalm 43:5 who asked, “Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me?”

Many Venezuelans were anxious that night, hoping for a change that would end Nicolás Maduro’s nearly 12 years in office and 26 years of socialist rule since Hugo Chávez rose to power with the Partido Socialista Unido de Venezuela (PSUV). But others were apprehensive; Maduro had warned that the country could face a “bloodbath” if he didn't win the election.

After a delay in the disclosure of partial results, the Consejo Nacional Electoral, at around 1 a.m. on Monday morning, declared Maduro the winner.

Opposition candidate Edmundo González Urrutia did not concede but instead blamed election fraud for his purported defeat and declared himself president-elect. On Monday night, people burst onto the streets in cities throughout the country, demanding a recount.

As demonstrations have continued throughout the week, the government has confronted protesters with tear gas; other reports have emerged of unidentified people shooting at demonstrators. Through August 1, at least 11 people have died and more than 1,000 have been detained.

Many Venezuelan evangelical churches have joined the chorus of voices that reject the result proclaimed by the electoral authorities and suspect fraud. Some, by contrast, support Maduro, appreciative of his efforts to provide tangible resources to their congregations.

Primarily, evangelical leaders have called for peace. In his role as president of the Consejo Evangélico de Venezuela, Mermejo advised local churches to cancel worship services for the foreseeable future “for the safety of their congregants.”

The council also urged Christians to pray for the country with “calm and sanity” and requested “that the review of the tally sheets of the presidential elections be carried out in a transparent process, in accordance with the provisions of the legislation.”

The election protests present yet another challenge for a country that dealt with severe economic collapse, hyperinflation, political instability, and a humanitarian crisis, despite being home to the biggest oil reserves in the world. The United Nations estimates that 7.7 million Venezuelans currently live outside of the South American country, a number that has further destabilized the nation and its churches. (The in-country population is 29.4 million.)

The loss of so many of his fellow citizens is personal for José de los Santos Rodríguez, the former pastor of the Primera Iglesia Evangélica Libre de Maracaibo. His congregation of 50 people was located 80 miles from the Colombian border in what was once a flourishing city and a business hub for oil companies.

But Maracaibo “was turned into a pile of trash,” he said. “People started to go from house to house begging for food.”

Two years ago, the church closed its doors after all the members left the city.

“Most people left the country without any planning, without even asking God,” he said. “They left because they had no job and because what they earned wasn't even enough for transportation.”

Rodríguez has kept in touch with his former church members by recording and sending out 20-minute daily devotionals.

“I have people in Colombia, Chile, Argentina, Uruguay, Mexico, the United States, Spain, and Peru,” he said.

Today, his church members are among the nearly 3 million Venezuelan migrants in Colombia, the 1.5 million in Peru, and the half million each in Brazil and Chile. For many of these immigrants, Christian organizations played a key role in helping them build new lives.

Among them is Darvin Delnardo Tehn, a youth leader at Encuentro con Cristo, an evangelical church in Santiago, Chile, founded by German immigrants, which runs a nonprofit that offers short-term housing for migrant families. In 2017, at age 27, Delnardo, a university graduate, left a dead-end job and his hometown of Colonia Tovar, near Caracas, to start a new life in Chile.

Many supported Delnardo’s leap of faith.

“I left Venezuela with the blessing of my family and my church,” he said. “My pastor is always interceding for me.”

Delnardo’s pastor, Ender Urribarrí, confirmed that Delnardo confided in him his plan to migrate. Urribarrí didn’t try to dissuade Delnardo, but asked him to prepare to understand the cultural challenges of a new country and not to forget that “you have a mission there too.”

“God gives us the joy of exporting church leaders to other countries. Isn’t that wonderful?” said Urribarrí.

As his churchgoers have begun to emigrate, Urribarrí, who leads Iglesia Evangélica Encuentro con Dios in Colonia Tovar, has devised a plan to help them maintain a pastoral presence in their lives as they face uncertainty and hardship. For the first two years, he communicates consistently with those who have emigrated. By that point, he expects that they will be connected to a new local church and his communication drops to one call every three months, and then to twice a year.

This strategy has been working so far, he said. “When they visit Venezuela, they come to us. They still say ‘this is my church,’” he said.

Now Urribarrí is excited about the future: “I want to keep seeing what God will do in the church and in my country.”

Rodríguez thanks God that despite the dispersal of his former congregation, he has still been able to serve in full-time ministry. He and his wife receive pensions (though they add up to less than $10 USD a month), and he also receives the bono de guerra, a subsidy paid by the government to retired people that adds $100 to the family monthly income. Without this, he would be forced to spend all his money on his blood pressure medication.

“Every time we are in need of something, there is someone who helps out,” he said.

Rodríguez does not believe change in his country will result from the pressure exerted by foreign entities such as the US government, the European Union, and the Organization of American States. (On August 1, US Secretary of State Anthony Blinken issued a statement congratulating González for winning the elections in Venezuela and asserting that the claim of a Maduro victory does not represent the will of the Venezuelan people.)

“The Lord and his justice will change the country,” Rodríguez said. “I can’t say when it will occur, but I’m certain it will.”

Until then, Christians in Venezuela will have to keep finding ways to survive and aid their fellow citizens.

“What keeps us here in this country, fighting, is the love we have for this land and the faith we have in the Lord that he can bring an answer for Venezuela,” said Yosleiker Pérez, pastor of Ministerio Extendiendo el Reino de Dios, a Pentecostal church in north Caracas. “And for those who believe, everything is possible.”

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News

Black Christian Leaders Find Hope with Kamala Harris

Harvest Prude

The vice president’s faith and commitment to issues stirs enthusiasm among the traditionally Democratic voting bloc.

Democratic presidential candidate Kamala Harris greets parishioners during a service at Corinthian Baptist Church in Iowa.

Justin Sullivan / Staff / Getty

Vice President Kamala Harris isn’t the type of politician to cite the Bible a lot.

Darryl Ford, the former pastor of a nondenominational evangelical church in Atlanta, thinks that might be a good thing.

“We’ve gotten used to seeing people who will make Bible quotations and pray for me on a Sunday, then vote to disenfranchise me on a Tuesday,” he told Christianity Today.

Ford and many other Black Christians say they care about the faith of the new Democratic Party nominee, who is replacing President Joe Biden on the ballot in November, but they’re focused more on issues than rhetoric. The former pastor says Black Christians support Harris because she has a good grasp on things like criminal justice and health care.

“Because she’s been in it, she’s lived amongst it. She’s not new to it,” he said. “Even if I don’t agree with her on a certain issue, I believe she has a good handle on what that issue actually is.”

Black clergy across the country report a new enthusiasm in an election year that was previously leaving voters feeling discouraged and depressed. African Americans have overwhelmingly supported Democratic candidates since the party threw its weight behind civil rights legislation in the 1960s. But having Harris at the top of the ticket has brought a new energy, reminding some of Barack Obama’s historic first campaign.

“It feels like 2008,” said Khristi Lauren Adams, an ordained Baptist minister who works at a private school in Baltimore County, Maryland. “I think there’s a similar sentiment happening right now.”

According to a recent YouGov poll, nearly 40 percent of Black people say they are enthusiastic about voting this November. Seventy-four percent say they plan to vote for Harris come November. A month ago, Black support for Biden’s reelection was only 69 percent.

“The reason you’re seeing the organic response from the Black faith community is because she belongs,” Matthew L. Watley, senior pastor at Kingdom Fellowship African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church in Maryland, told CT. “She’s one of us, and it’s been demonstrated for a long time.”

Harris hasn’t shied away from talking about her deep roots in the Black church tradition. In a 2022 speech at the Annual Session of the National Baptist Convention, USA, the largest traditionally Black denomination in the country, Harris connected her faith and politics, crediting her childhood church experiences for giving her a framework for action.

“I was raised to live my faith,” Harris said. “Marching for civil rights, my parents pushed me in a stroller. That was faith in action.”

Now her candidacy is motivating other Black Christians to action.

“We’re ten toes down—all the way in,” said Gabby Cudjoe-Wilkes, co-pastor of The Double Love Experience Church in Brooklyn, New York, which is part of the Progressive National Baptist Convention. “We’re not saying this is a perfect person, no candidate is. … Kamala may not be leading with her faith, I’m okay with that,” she said. “I don't feel like she is dangling it for a vote.”

Some Black pastors who are known as theological conservatives have come out in support of Harris too. Dwight McKissic, senior pastor of Cornerstone Baptist Church in Arlington, Texas, and an influential Black leader in the Southern Baptist Convention until he left in 2021, praised Harris’s “superior qualifications” on social media.

“I believe the energy, synergy, fundraising, volunteerism, and momentum driving and characterizing her campaign … is unprecedented in American political history,” McKissic wrote. “Kamala Harris represents those who’ve been rejected among us. The support she’s galvanized is amazing to me.”

He said that while he doesn’t agree with Harris on everything, he will personally vote for her.

McKissic specifically disagrees with Harris’s positions on abortion. She is believed to be the first vice president to visit an abortion clinic, and has said she supports legislation protecting nationwide abortion access.

McKissic said since the Republican Party removed the commitment to push for a constitutional ban on abortion from the party platform, however, neither major party offers a pro-life ticket. He believes many Christians will make their decision based on who seems most qualified to be president of the United States. For him, it’s an obvious choice.

Harris is not without Black Christian critics, though. Some ministers are skeptical of where she would lead the country, if she makes it to the White House.

“I don’t feel that sense of hope that I sense that others might,” said Walter Harvey, pastor emeritus of Embassy Center MKE and president of the National Black Fellowship of the Assemblies of God.

In Harvey’s eyes, Harris’s positions on social issues are disqualifying. The Democrats have “championed some policies that are unbiblical to family, that are unbiblical as it relates to sexuality, and I think it’s cost the African American community,” he said.

His majority Black congregation in Milwaukee is pretty diverse politically. He expects a divided reaction to Harris’s candidacy.

“I think half would welcome her and champion her, be excited about her,” he said. “I think there’s the other half, or close to half, who would be challenged by her message … and would not want to endorse.”

A YouGov poll found that around 10 percent of Black voters plan to vote for Trump. Less than 10 percent are unsure of who they will vote for. Around 5 percent plan to vote for a third party candidate.

Harris is just now ramping up her presidential campaign, so it remains to be seen what kind of outreach she might do to try and persuade Black Christians like those in Harvey’s church in Wisconsin to vote for her. Since the announcement that Biden was stepping down and Harris was going to run, her longtime pastor, civil rights leader Amos Brown, has organized a “100 days of prayer” campaign.

Brown, who was once taught by Martin Luther King Jr. at Morehouse College, is well respected by Black Christians, and many have noted his relationship with Harris. One of the first things she reportedly did, preparing her run for the White House, was to call Brown and request prayer.

Harris has also established relationships with some Black churches in the greater DC area. She has occasionally attended Kingdom Fellowship, the AME church in Maryland where Matthew Watley serves as pastor. He told CT her most recent visit was a surprise. Watley got a phone call on Sunday morning from the vice president’s staff.

“She woke up and she wanted to come worship with us,” Watley recalled.

Harris may not be in a church pew every Sunday, but it is clear she “was formed by the church and still has the principles of Christian living,” Watley said. “I think any honest pastor would say that many of our parishioners move that way these days.”

Since Biden became president in 2020, he has brought in faith leaders from various traditions to hear their concerns, get their input, and ask for prayer and support, the AME minister said. Watley hopes that outreach will deepen if Harris wins.

“My prayer,” he said, “is that the party will once again embrace faith as central to its identity, as historically it always has.”

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Theology

Why Christians Rebuke Evil in the Name of Jesus

Nicole Massie Martin

In a moment of great fear, Sonya Massey understood the power of the name of Christ. We should too.

Mourners bring candles to a vigil in honor of Sonya Massey.

Aashish Kiphayet / AP Images / Edits by CT

It was the early ’90s when I was first introduced to the idea of rebuking the Enemy in the name of Jesus. My sister and I had just finished watching the horror movie Candyman, and I was scared out of my mind.

I cried when the movie was over, terrified to be alone, and I was certain that the man on the screen was out to get me. For days, the Candyman lingered in my thoughts, making it impossible to focus. I was lost in my fears until I shared them with my Aunt Judy, a God-fearing woman. As she listened to me and saw my tears, she reminded me that I did not have to be afraid. “All you have to do,” she said with a confident calm, “is rebuke the Enemy, and he will flee from you.”

I needed to hear that because, in my young mind, Candyman was not just an enemy from a movie but the Enemy. The next time thoughts of him entered my mind, I took a deep breath, gathering my small courage, and with eyes closed and fists clinched, shouted out loud, “I rebuke you in the name of Jesus!”

Peeking out of one eye, I felt calm for the first time since I’d watched the movie. My childish conception of evil may have been a little confused, but the peace and deliverance from the sense of foreboding evil that the name of the Savior brought me was deep and real.

Evil takes a different form when we become adults, a subtler and cleverer shape. Talk of the Devil is relegated to charismatics, and those who speak of Satan are often dismissed as unreformed, uneducated, or holdovers from the naive hellfire-and-brimstone version of Christianity that we moderns work hard to forget.

Maybe people in developing countries, where witchcraft is vibrant and corruption prevails, are seeing manifestations of evil, we might allow. But that doesn’t happen here. Not in America. Here, when we think of evil, we’re more likely to think of those across political and ideological divides. We might well rebuke them, but that has little to do with Jesus.

Yet the Bible is clear about the reality of evil and the importance of rebuke. God regularly exercises this power, from the cursing of Satan in Genesis (3:14–15) to the rebuke of Satan in Peter (Matt. 16:23) and the chastening of believers who do not repent (Rev. 3:19). In the Old Testament, we see God cursing operatives of the Enemy and reproving kings who do evil (Mal. 1:3; Ps. 11:5; Isa. 59:18; Jer. 22). In the New Testament, Jesus scolds religious leaders who act with evil intent (Matt. 23). Scripture assumes that evil is real, that it is the enemy of God, and that it is overcome by the name of Christ.

As believers, we still have the authority to rebuke in order to resist Satan and the evil of this world. Scriptural rebuke is not a personal power to be manipulated for our own purposes and rivalries. It is a weapon of spiritual warfare in God’s plan to “destroy the devil’s work” (1 John 3:8), a sign of the intolerability of evil in the presence of a holy God.

Perhaps this is why Sonya Massey’s last instinct, before being fatally shot by a police officer in her Illinois home last month, was to rebuke evil in the name of Jesus.

Massey was reportedly having a mental health crisis when she asked police to come to her home to look for a possible prowler. We don’t know exactly what was going through her mind in her final exchange with the officer who shot her. But we do know that in extremis, in a moment of great fear, she understood that evil is defeated by the name of Jesus (Luke 10:17). She understood the truth that when we resist the Enemy, he will flee (James 4:7).

I don’t think, as some have speculated, that Sonya believed the officer who killed her was literally a demon. But because he had the audacity to authenticate his threat to shoot her in the face, there is no doubt that evil was present. As believers, “our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Eph. 6:12)—and these are the enemies Sonya was right to rebuke in her final moments.

She called on the only name that could save her. And while her life was not spared on this side, because of her faith in Jesus, we can be confident she has attained the eternal life for which we long.

Sonya’s story is a reminder of the necessity of rebuking evil—of refusing to be so “sophisticated” that we imagine ourselves not in need of God’s help in the face of the Enemy. With every generation, we yearn for the coming of Christ who will wipe every tear and finally destroy the advancing darkness of this world (1 Cor. 15:24–26; Heb. 2:14–15; Rev. 21:4). But until that time, it is our duty to rebuke the evil around us. The tactics of the enemy are not to be placated or normalized. They are to be bound and defeated.

For this reason, we must rebuke the evils of racism and sexism—not because we simply dislike them, but because they work against the equality of believers (Gal. 3:28) and the goodness of God. We must rebuke political idolatry and apathy to violence not because they are a threat to us, but because they are a threat to the power and peace of God. Our calling, as followers of Jesus, is to hate the evil that Jesus hated and to love the truth Jesus loved. While the Enemy is not always clear to us, and evil isn’t always easy to discern, God will overcome the Enemy once and for all.

The timing of that final victory is unknown, but God’s promise is sure. I pray that the church can find courage to hate evil as we cling to what is good (Rom. 12:9). The power to rebuke the Enemy is a privilege we cannot take lightly, a reiteration of the victory of Christ. The one who overcame death on the cross is the same one who overcame my childhood fears—and the same one who heard and loved Sonya Massey as she cried out for his help. In him, God has already triumphed over evil. In him, we can embrace the power of spiritual rebuke with confidence that, one day, evil will surely end.

Nicole Massie Martin is chief impact officer at Christianity Today.

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The Lessons of the Paris Olympics Tableau

Jared Boggess

As an art director, I think the Olympics failed to consider its audience. But as a Christian, I’m not surprised by disdain from those outside the church.

Da Vinci’s “Last Supper” and Jan van Bijlert’s “Feast of the Gods"

Illustration by Christianity Today

Ahead of the 2024 Paris Olympics, Thomas Jolly seemed confident in what he had conjured up for the hours-long opening and closing ceremonies. The artistic director was tight-lipped about the details of performances he’d been planning for two years—but in the days leading up to the Games, he revealed that he expected the spectacle to “be very meaningful for the artists that will perform.”

Now, with the opening ceremony behind him, Jolly is left defending his vision.

One segment has drawn particular controversy: a tableau of LGBTQ activists, drag performers, and lewd dancers that many viewers felt subtly reenacted Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper. “My wish isn’t to be subversive, nor to mock or to shock,” Jolly said in response to the uproar. “Most of all, I wanted to send a message of love, a message of inclusion and not at all to divide.” And yet, the scene has divided, met with scorn by those who experienced it as a mocking parody of Christ and his disciples.

There is a vast disparity between what Jolly claims were his artistic intentions and the way his art has been perceived.

As an artist and art director myself, I am constantly wrestling with what visuals communicate. When I review submissions from our contributing artists, I evaluate not only the technical execution of their images but how our readers might interpret their meaning. In my journal, I write down notes and sketch out possibilities as I search for the right way to convey an idea without words. Should the symbolism be overt? Does this scene merit nuance and ambiguity? How might a use of color or form offer a new perspective?

In all of my creative work, I have intentions for what will be conveyed. And then I look into the future, trying to anticipate how those intentions will be perceived.

All makers are subject to their audiences—to how the novel reader or album listener or museumgoer understands and experiences their work. Art does not exist in isolation; it is always communal. That’s a blessing, not a curse. The moment we tell a story, release a song, or perform a play, it is no longer solely our own. This is the beautiful, wonderful, risky way that all art is a collaboration between the artist and the rest of the world.

Defending the controversial Olympics performance, Jolly explains that his intentions were different from the offense taken by some viewers. In other words, he argued, it’s not his fault. The offended audience failed to interpret his art properly. Jolly contends that the scene was drawn not from Da Vinci but from Le Festin des Dieux (The Feast of the Gods), a Jan van Bijlert painting of a banquet on Mount Olympus. The sun god Apollo faces the viewer; a naked Dionysus eats grapes in the foreground. It’s quite plausible that this work was his true inspiration.

“Le Festin des Dieux” (“The Feast of the Gods”) is a painting by Dutch painter Jan van Bijlert, circa 1635–1640

But this defense—“you failed to interpret my art properly”—doesn’t absolve an artist. That kind of response is lazy and pretentious. It comes from an ego that assumes the artist’s perspective is the only proper reading of what has been communicated.

By blaming the viewer’s faulty interpretation, the artist asserts that their intent supersedes what their work has communicated. It denies the objective reality of how their art sits in time and space, its context in history and culture.

As one art historian and professor emeritus said to The New York Times , “The idea of the central figure with a halo and a group of followers on either side—it’s so typical of ‘The Last Supper’ iconography that to read it in any other way might be a little foolhardy.”

Our intentions matter, but they don’t guarantee how others will react. When Paul warns, “Do not let what you regard as good be spoken of as evil,” he doesn’t instruct the Romans to defend themselves (Rom. 14:16, ESV throughout). He tells them to change their actions, to “never to put a stumbling block or hindrance in the way of a brother” (v.13).

Our intentions do not define reality. We are accountable for forming our creations carefully. And we must be humble enough to recognize when we have not succeeded.

Artists are very perceptive people. As an art director, Jolly must have carefully considered the implications of every detail of this performance. To fail to accommodate the perceptions of 2 billion global Christians was careless at the least, and quite possibly intentional disregard.

Sometimes art is meant to be shocking and provocative. Art commands attention and disrupts assumptions for good reasons. But Jolly says that wasn’t his goal. If he was aiming to communicate inclusion, he did so at the exclusion of Christians and religious groups appalled by the performance. In the end, his message only resonated with part of his viewership.

So Christians aren’t wrong to be offended. And also—what we do with our offense matters.

Whether Jolly and the performers risked or embraced the opportunity to be scandalous, it is understandable that Christians would find a scene reminiscent of the Last Supper particularly abrasive. But aside from careless artistic decisions, should the church be surprised by an affront such as this—let alone the obscenity of the rest of the opening ceremony?

In the midst of a discussion on immorality, Paul tells the Corinthian church that they cannot isolate themselves from the sinfulness of secular society. They would have to depart from the world itself to achieve such inoculation (1 Cor. 5:10). Yes, they should strive to protect the integrity of the church body—as we should too. If there is someone within who refuses to turn from their sinfulness, Paul exhorts the Corinthians not to associate with them in order to uphold a moral standard within their community.

But this is not a standard Paul expects of the world outside the church. He reminds the Corinthians that it is God’s role to judge “those outside,” not theirs, including in the context of shocking sexual sin (1 Cor. 5:13). Apparently, the Corinthian church had been distancing themselves, avoiding any interaction with unbelievers in the city of Corinth. Paul tells them that this is not right.

This is the same pattern that prompted the Pharisees to question Jesus when he dined with tax collectors (Matt. 9:10–13). Would Jesus have shared a meal with drag performers, with people who might ridicule the church and its sacred symbols? We should have no doubt that he would have, or that he calls us to do the same.

We also shouldn’t doubt that Jesus calls them to repentance. His response to sin was not to shun or condemn, but to proclaim his forgiveness and invite people to follow him. This is his invitation to all of us.

We shouldn’t expect unbelievers to understand or respect the solemn gravity of a scene like the Last Supper. We shouldn’t be surprised at the obscenity of the performances throughout the opening ceremony. But neither should we be indifferent. Our reaction should be heartache and compassion. Our world is fallen. We’re fallen too, fortunate to have heard and received the redeeming work of Jesus.

And so, like a thoughtful artist wrestling with the implications of their work, we should consider what our actions communicate. What is our intended message? When Christians publicly condemn and boycott the Olympics in response to the opening ceremony, it hardly conveys our belief that Christ died for us while we were yet sinners.

And when Barbara Butch, the DJ in the center of the tableau performance, receives death threats and harassment after the performance, our silence about the sanctity of her life, as one who also was made in the image of God, is telling.

Instead, might we share a meal together? And perhaps take a walk through the halls of a museum discussing what the works on the walls seem to communicate? In that precious shared space, we can express how we lean on a hope that does not put us to shame. No amount of ridicule outweighs the real love that has been poured into our hearts by the grace of God (Rom. 5:5).

Jared Boggess is CT’s print art director.

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Ideas

Our Perennial Political Temptation

Mark Caleb Smith and Emma Blakemore

Reckoning with a half-century of American evangelicals’ pursuit of a “seat at the table.”

Illustration by Mallory Rentsch Tlapek / Source Images: WikiMedia Commons

The political choice for American Christians is not between Republican Donald Trump and whomever the Democrats nominate in Chicago this month. It is between Christ and a corrupting, power-centric vision of Christendom.

This decision has confronted believers since we first dreamt of influence instead of the nightmare of persecution. The battlefield conversion of the Roman emperor Constantine created the possibility of using the state to spread Christianity, and the quandary of how to navigate faith and politics, church and government, has not left us since.

Christendom refers to a society or civilization that is not just majority Christian, but one that officially denigrates other faiths and, ironically, poses risks for our own. Though historic versions of Christendom had their benefits—and it is right for Christians to bring our faith and ethics to the public square—this kind of Christian quest for power, even for the best reasons, can eclipse Christ or hamper our witness.

The rise and fall of social and political structures do not reflect the rise and fall of Jesus, who remains eternally on his throne. And though it is possible to pursue Christ and power together, the struggle to keep them in perspective is constant.

That struggle is vividly evident right now among politically conservative evangelicals in America. Since the 1970s, the Christian Right has acquired access and influence to pass laws and shape the judiciary. Christian Coalition architect Ralph Reed asked for just a “seat at the table” where the real decisions get made, but that seat came at the price of political loyalty. And such loyalty, even in the pursuit of the good, can be twisted beyond what Christian witness can bear.

What follows should not be taken as support for Biden’s replacement on the Democratic ticket. Our focus on the Republican Party is not because we believe that Democratic Christians are immune to political temptations or that Christians should be loyal to the Democratic Party. On the contrary, we think misplaced loyalty to any party risks the exchange of hope in Christ for faith in Christendom, and white evangelical support for the GOP has been so overwhelming that this risk feels close to reality.

Our story, however, begins with a Democratic politician—former president Jimmy Carter. In the 1976 election, his campaign decided an interview with Playboy was a chance to showcase God’s candidate to the Devil’s readers. Carter needed to be more than admired. He had to be relatable.

Maybe the interview helped with some voters: Carter squeaked into the White House in November of 1976, as Gerald Ford, his opponent, still carried the stain of the Nixon administration. But Playboy left its own kind of stain on Carter. He spoke about temptation’s grip on the human heart, admitting his own struggles with lust, and used the word screw. Many of his fellow Christians vehemently objected.

“Screw,” said Bailey Smith, a pastor and former Carter enthusiast, “is just not a good Baptist word.” Prominent Southern evangelicals including Harold Lindsell, Jerry Falwell Sr., Jerry Vines, W. A. Criswell, and Bob Jones Jr. all took aim. At one rally, Carter faced a picketer holding a sign that said, “With Christians like Carter, who needs pagans?”

Carter’s frayed relationship with conservative Christians would grow worse during his presidency. These voters were searching for a political lifeboat to survive the cultural flood. Traditional Christianity’s influence was waning thanks to the 1960s counterculture, the sexual revolution, and Supreme Court decisions like Engel v. Vitale (1962), which prohibited school-sponsored prayer in public education. The nascent Christian Right wanted to fight back through politics.

They needed a champion, an avatar of rectitude willing to wage battle in the public square. At a personal level, as a Southern Baptist Sunday school teacher, Carter fit the role. But publicly, he refused to use the government to encourage the kind of clean living he exemplified. He famously said Jesus would oppose abortion, but his administration would not undermine Roe v. Wade (1973). “You can’t legislate morality,” he told Hugh Hefner’s rag. He was not the transformative leader sought by the Christian Right. If the movement’s leaders wanted a revolution, they needed someone able to inspire followers and persuade opponents. They needed the right kind of moral authority—a credible connection of private and public goodness. Carter was not it.

The champion the movement chose in 1980 was Carter’s mirror image: a Republican from liberal California instead of the Democrat from conservative Georgia. In two terms as California’s governor, Ronald Reagan had signed a law that increased abortion rights and opposed a referendum that gave the government more power to remove gay teachers from classrooms. Reagan had also been divorced, and his religious life was more private than public.

But Reagan’s appeal went beyond policy. “The Gipper,” as he was sometimes called, painted a picture of America’s past that gave faith a place of honor, appropriating the biblical simile of a “shining city on a hill” to make the faithful feel seen and comfortable in the new GOP.

Reagan was a pivotal figure in American politics. His calm and sunny optimism made conservatism respectable and attractive. To some extent, this was a boon for the Christian Right, but Reagan’s was a patriotic, ideological revolution more than a moral one. He did not transform attitudes about abortion, gay rights, or even prayer in school among the broader public—yet politically engaged evangelicals stuck with him anyway.

In the Reagan era, “We were somebody. We mattered,” recalled Moral Majority executive Ed Dobson. “All the years in in the backwoods of the culture were over. We had come home, and the home was the White House.”

A decade later, that home was occupied by the first baby boomer president. Democrat Bill Clinton, whose alleged marital infidelity was an issue in the 1992 campaign, was later accused of having a sexual relationship with a White House intern. That story exploded in 1998, and Clinton denied wrongdoing to his Cabinet and, later, the public. He was eventually impeached for perjury and obstructing investigations into his conduct.

Now a vital part of the Republican coalition, the Christian Right actively sought Clinton’s downfall and doggedly emphasized the necessity of good character in public life. “As it turns out, character DOES matter,” wrote Focus on the Family’s James Dobson of Clinton. “You can’t run a family, let alone a country, without it. How foolish to believe that a person who lacks honesty and moral integrity is qualified to lead a nation and the world!” Reed and Franklin Graham, the son of evangelist Billy Graham, would make similar points.

Conservative evangelicals’ intense political clarity in that moment—their vocal conviction that public leadership must stem from private morality and that character is political destiny—infamously would not last. We know the next chapter of this story all too well: On October 7, 2016, a leaked “hot mic” recording of Donald Trump, then the Republican presidential nominee, heard the candidate describing at least his adulterous and vulgar impulses, and, arguably, his habit of sexual assault.

The audio fit patterns in Trump’s past. He was on his third marriage and not only sat for an interview with Playboy but appeared on the cover. He had bragged about extramarital affairs and hurled misogynistic public insults. But his conservative Christian supporters—from pundit Eric Metaxas and megachurch pastor Robert Jeffress to long-standing leaders like Reed, Dobson, the younger Graham, the Family Research Council’s Tony Perkins, and broadcaster Pat Robertson—overwhelmingly did not flinch.

Trump’s then-running mate, Mike Pence, perhaps the most politically successful son of the Christian Right, stayed on the ticket. “I am proud,” he declared, “to stand with Donald Trump.”

The path from “Screw is just not a good Baptist word” to “I am proud to stand with Donald Trump” is longer than the 40 years between those statements. The cultural trends apparent in 1976 had all continued, particularly where sex was concerned. Gay marriage had been legalized, and calls to expand transgender rights and normalize polyamory were growing. It’s easy to lampoon the hypocrisy of the Christian Right’s leaders on the question of character—and they deserve it—but it’s also true that many conservative Christians sincerely felt a heightened sense of cultural doom.

Our major political parties had changed almost as radically. Gone were the days of overlapping coalitions and moderating work across the aisle. Party identities hardened and talk of culture war was joined by fear of civil war.

A politics of persuasion through moral authority may have seemed fanciful in this environment—and electing Trump may have seemed like a rational bargain to establish a conservative bulwark on the Supreme Court, where gay marriage, like abortion nearly 50 years prior, had become the law of the land.

On paper, it worked. Trump’s Supreme Court nominees helped overturn Roe in 2022’s Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization. But Dobbs has left many conservative evangelicals and other social conservatives floundering: Abortion rates have increased nationally; the pro-life cause has suffered ballot box defeats in red states Kansas and Ohio; and Trump’s 2024 campaign has removed support for a federal ban on abortion—as well as opposition to same-sex marriage—from the GOP platform.

Perhaps that decidedly mixed record can prompt reflection. In 1980, Christianity Today ran an editorial on the upcoming election season. It argued for the necessity of a broad issue agenda for evangelicals, one that would reflect the full witness of Scripture: care for the poor and peacemaking alongside pro-life principles and demands for good character.

“Too narrow a front in battling for a moral crusade, or for a truly biblical involvement in politics, could be disastrous,” the editorial concluded. “It could lead to the election of a moron who holds the right view on abortion.”

That wisdom has been ignored. A thin agenda combined with fervent partisan loyalty left many believers feeling like the pursuit of Christendom through the Republican Party was their only option. That loyalty encouraged Christians to defend what was indefensible only a few years before. Continued loyalty requires even more.

In Matthew 10:16, Christ sends out his disciples as “sheep among wolves.” This is an apt description of the Christian’s peril in the field of politics. It is often a dirty game, full of compromise and complications. But the stakes and danger of the game are no excuse to ignore, defend, or grow comfortable with sin.

In the same passage, Christ commands that his followers be “wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” Our shrewd loyalty must sometimes give way to holy innocence. A Christian life of integrity is lived behind closed doors as much as in the public square. This is our best and most persuasive witness (John 13:35; 14:15), and practicing honor, respect, submission, truth, and love of enemies as political virtues is the best way for us to wield power. Opposition to abortion is critical, but it cannot be the only political outworking of our loyalty to God and his Word.

Reagan was right: We are a shining city on a hill. But that we is not America. We are believers, followers of Jesus, pointing people toward the cross. Only there will we find the good we so desperately pursue. We can use our votes and voices to nudge our temporal government toward justice, but those are crude means. The glorious ends we seek require God and the transformation only he can provide. Our politics should not be devoted to restoring Christendom but to revealing Christ.

Mark Caleb Smith serves as professor of political science and director of the Center for Political Studies at Cedarville University and is the author of numerous articles, book chapters, and other publications in religion and American politics.

Emma Blakemore is a fellow at the Center for Political Studies at Cedarville University. She earned her undergraduate degree in international studies from Cedarville, and in her role at the Center, she focuses on research initiatives in law, religion, and politics.

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What Good Can Come Out of Sing Sing?

Emily Belz

A stunning film about a prison theater program shows the power of a loving community—rather than self-help—to bring transformation.

Courtesy of A24

As a reporter, I sometimes receive mail from those behind bars who have story ideas or who keep in contact after a prison interview. Recently, I had a note from someone in a New York prison suggesting I see Sing Sing, a new movie about a theater program at Sing Sing, the maximum security prison in New York . This person hadn’t seen the film, but he had heard the buzz about it and that it was about redemption.

A movie about prison? One look at the Christianity Today news section this summer will tell you why I didn’t feel like watching something that would make my spirits lower than they already were. I’m sure I’m not alone in feeling that way lately.

But oddly enough, Sing Sing, in theaters August 2, parted the clouds for me. For one thing, it’s a very good movie. Led by the twin talents of Colman Domingo and Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin, it’s generating Oscars chatter for its actors’ performances.

It wasn’t the movie’s award chances that raised my spirits, though. It was its vision of community, its stunning use of the word beloved in one line of dialogue. That’s what the movie is about: how being beloved can change someone, can make the irredeemable redeemed. The person who wrote me that letter was right.

Sing Sing is based on a real theater program at Sing Sing called Rehabilitation Through the Arts (RTA), where a group of men behind bars puts on productions of Shakespeare and other plays.

When we join the story, the men are skipping the Bard to do a production of their own making, featuring time travel, Westerns, ancient Egypt—and sure, a little Shakespeare. They title it Breakin’ the Mummy’s Code.

The film is funny and it’s heartbreaking. It depicts the heaviness of prison without being gratuitous; it depicts people changing their stories without being naive. The men don’t become better by reading self-help books, embarking on a private program of personal growth. Instead, it’s their community that hauls them by the collar into a better version of themselves. When one man doesn’t understand a stage direction, the other men jump in to explain; when one is angry, the others try to de-escalate the situation; when one is crying, another listens and comforts through the prison wall. Without spoiling anything, you’ll want to stay for the credits.

At one point in Sing Sing, the director of the play says, “Who would have thought the healing of the planet could start behind the walls in Sing Sing?”

The healing of the planet? At moments, the movie has this almost-too-earnest dialogue. But Christians know what the character is talking about. Restoration of all things—of the whole world—can come from unlikely places. Like a stable, or a prison.

In Surprised by Hope, theologian N. T. Wright comments on John 21:17: that moment when Jesus, after his resurrection, asks, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”

“There is a whole world in that question, a world of personal invitation and challenge, of the remaking of a human being after disloyalty and disaster,” Wright says. Resurrection, Wright argues throughout his work, is not just about going to heaven but about restoring all things. That restoration happens not through individuals figuring out the big questions of life on their own, but through the entire body of Christ working together—a restored community of head, hands, feet, and elbows.

RTA is not a faith-based program, but in real life, it’s working toward aims similar to those of Christian organizations behind bars—organizations that want to give the incarcerated some measure of a restored life, that want to remake a human being after “disloyalty and disaster,” as Wright describes it.

After seeing Sing Sing, I spoke to Sean Pica, who grew up in New York prisons—he went in at age 16 and was released at 34. Pica says his years in Sing Sing should have been the worst of his life after he “failed everyone.” Instead, he was restored—and became the first in his family to earn a college degree.

Pica recalled that when he first arrived at Sing Sing as a skinny teenager, a group of older Black men came to his cell. They told him to make his bed and sign up for school.

“They wouldn’t take no for an answer,” he said. They pushed him to get a high school diploma. Pica did. He went on to get an undergraduate degree from Nyack College, a now-shuttered Christian college that had a program at Sing Sing at the time. Then he got a master’s degree from the now-shuttered New York Theological Seminary.

He also experienced the benefits of RTA; while incarcerated, he became the carpenter for the productions and built sets. He knew the men portrayed in the film.

A free man for 22 years now, Pica runs Hudson Link, a nonprofit college education program behind bars that has 700 students enrolled (it had early ties to Nyack before Nyack began to struggle). He’s not quite sure how he ended up leading a college program.

“That is God’s hands all over that,” he said, underlining how he needed community to get to where he is now. “It’s not a solo [expletive] sport.”

The film hits close to home for Pica, literally: Hudson Link operates within a 30-yard radius of RTA, so the organizations’ ties are close. Pica still builds sets for the theater productions—including the sets for Breakin’ the Mummy’s Code, the production depicted in the movie. When A24, the studio behind the film, held a screening at Sing Sing this year, they invited Pica.

He was in disbelief, sitting in the packed chapel auditorium in the maximum security prison and watching men he knew quoting Shakespeare on the big screen. He didn’t care if the film screened anywhere else.

And what did he think of the film?

“It’s the real deal,” he said. “I cried through most of it.”

Emily Belz is a staff writer on the news team.

- More from Emily Belz

Books

5 Books on Cultivating the Fruit of the Spirit

Kristin Elizabeth Couch

Chosen by Kristin Elizabeth Couch, author of Deep Roots, Good Fruit: Seeing the Fruit of the Spirit Through Story and Scripture.

Illustration by Elizabeth Kaye / Source Images: Unsplash

Keeping the Heart

John Flavel

This book, written by an English Puritan minister, is an alluring masterpiece: ancient, beautiful, and true, shining a spotlight into the soul’s crevices. To produce authentic spiritual fruit, Flavel declares, a heart must first be soft and tender. He writes, “To keep the heart, then, is to carefully protect it from sin, which disorders it, and maintain that spiritual frame, which fits it for a life of communion with God.” In stunning prose, Flavel implores Christians to remember that God has obliterated our stony hearts and made them new. We are meant to walk circumspectly, bowing low before God as the Holy Spirit generates godly fruit.

The Mystery of the Holy Spirit

R. C. Sproul

Sproul deftly unpacks the mysteries surrounding the Holy Spirit, showing through God’s Word who he is and what he does in the heart of every true Christ follower. Many have been swept away by false teachings regarding the third person of the Trinity, and Sproul graciously guides the reader’s gaze back to the Bible. As he explains, the Holy Spirit is God himself, and he has chosen to take up residence within each Christian, stirring up the heart while convicting, comforting, helping, and guiding.

The Character of Christ: The Fruit of the Spirit in the Life of Our Saviour

Jonathan Landry Cruse

This short book is a perfect delight. Cruse, a Presbyterian pastor in Michigan, guides us to Jesus, who manifested the Spirit’s fullness of perfect fruit. With captivating writing, Cruse heartens the reader to cling to the true vine, Christ, forever bearing in mind that spiritual fruit is the result of God’s work in us rather than the product of our own striving. The chapters move along with the Spirit’s fruit as listed in Galatians 5, punctuated by vivid examples from common life.

The Hiding Place

Corrie ten Boom

Dutch Christians Corrie and Betsie ten Boom suffered inconceivable tortures in a Nazi concentration camp—their punishment for hiding Jews in their home. During their captivity in Ravensbrück, the sisters discovered that triumphant living is possible anywhere, in all circumstances, with God as their souls’ hiding place. Bed bugs, selfishness, brutality, and pain became the sisters’ portal to love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control as they embraced the Holy Spirit’s work. Readers can trace the Spirit’s luscious fruit as it ripens in this unforgettable tale, beholding magnificent sanctification forged in the hothouse of dark affliction.

Safely Home

Randy Alcorn

Alcorn’s novel introduces the characters Li Quan and Ben Fielding, who met as college roommates at Harvard. Decades later, Quan resides in China, facing daily persecution and death threats as he heeds the Holy Spirit’s governance and ushers his beloved family into the perilous underground church. Meanwhile, Ben has scaled the American corporate ladder, simultaneously experiencing financial wealth and spiritual bankruptcy. While on a business trip in China, Ben reconnects with Quan, and a masterful story unfolds, full of darkly unexpected twists and turns. Alcorn brilliantly reveals what happens when the Holy Spirit stirs and softens, taking up residence in the human heart.

- More from Kristin Elizabeth Couch

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Speaking out for the voiceless

“These people are absolutely lawless”

Pastors “fakely released”

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