“I am urging everyone who claims to be a follower of Jesus Christ to vote and to vote biblically in this election,” evangelist and megachurch pastor Greg Laurie recently said. “No election in my lifetime is as consequential as this one, so we all need to engage.”
As his words rang out to a crowd of thousands at a Trump rally, what he meant by “vote biblically” was fairly transparent.
A number of pastors and Christian leaders seem to have an acute sense of urgency in encouraging Christians to show up at the polls this election cycle, many of them citing a recent survey that revealed that as many as 104 million faith voters—including 41 million born-again Christians—are unlikely to cast their ballot in November.
Several pastors have offered impassioned pleas for their congregants to fulfill their civic duty, some of them arguing that voting for president is a spiritual responsibility.
A number of weeks ago, Pastor Josh Howerton preached a sermon titled, “How To Vote Like Jesus,” drawing inspiration from none other than Mark Driscoll. During that sermon, Howerton argued, “When Christians do not vote, what they’re doing is they are abdicating their leadership position in the constitutional republic that God has placed you in.”
“And it’s a form of passive rebellion against God, in the exact same way that it would be wrong for a husband to refuse to lead his family and it would be wrong for a pastor to refuse to lead his church,” Howerton added, “it would be wrong for you not to take part in the leadership of the nation that God has put you in.”
Howerton went as far as to say that it is wrong for Christians even to vote for a third-party candidate, and he characterized those who do as “naïve.”
Between the two major party candidates, Howerton was adamant that he would not endorse one over the other. However, based on the way he cherry-picked policy issues and carefully framed them, the implication of his sermon was clear: Bible-believing Christians should vote for Donald Trump.
Other pastors have been decidedly less subtle. Among them is Jonny Ardavanis, who told his congregation, “The Democratic party is a demonic death cult under the power and influence of Satan.”
“To vote for the Democrats is to vote for a platform that is building their platform on everything God hates,” Ardavanis added. “I don’t see how you could be a Christian and vote for a party that promotes everything that God hates.”
Nevertheless, Ardavanis emphasized that refusing to vote is disrespectful both to the troops and to God, adding, “You’re not voting for a pastor. You’re voting for a guy, as best we have as an option, upholds righteousness in the land.”
I highlight these pastors not only because they are influential among my theological tribe but because they also represent—with varying levels of nuance and complexity of thought—a message that I believe binds the consciences of faithful Christians who have understandable moral objections to both presidential candidates.
Christian, you are not morally obligated to vote for Donald Trump. Nor are you morally obligated to vote for Kamala Harris. Or anyone else for that matter.
That said, I don’t seek to impugn the character of these pastors or any other pastors who have made similar comments.
Listen, being a pastor is an incredibly difficult and often thankless job. And there are tons of great pastors doing the Lord’s work. They are the type of people who visit you in the hospital, officiate your children’s weddings, and preach at your parents’ funerals. Every week, they attend strategic meetings, fight for their people in prayer, counsel them through their problems, all while trying to write a sermon that preaches God’s word.
What I’m about to say doesn’t negate any of that. But this cultural moment in America has understandably made many of us prone to anxiety and outrage. Pastors are not immune. And I would like to humbly submit that when pastors operate from that emotional space, they tend to get out over their skis.
I have watched several sermons in which pastors have told their people, whether explicitly or by strong implication, who to vote for. And in almost all of them, the preacher has expressed at least some measure of emotional distress. They mentioned a sense of burden, an inability to focus on other things, multiple conversations with Christians asking for their opinion.
Trying to shepherd people through a volatile election season is no small task, requiring no small amount of emotional and spiritual resources. It’s difficult to navigate, and it can be tempting to offer easy answers—even if those answers don’t represent the best theology.
Pastors are certainly entitled to their political opinions, and they are entitled to share those opinions. However, like any good Protestant, I see the pulpit as a uniquely sacred space. When we stand before our churches, Bibles in hand, we present ourselves as purveyors not of opinions but everlasting truths handed down by God. Preachers must be diligent to keep themselves from pressing their political arguments further than the Word of God.
The instruction of the Bible is profoundly political. On the pages of Scripture, we find narratives about slavery and oppression, liberation, the establishment of governments, collective justice, and war. We also find implications for how to think about healthcare, social programs for the marginalized, and even economic policies.
Not all of this maps one-to-one onto our modern political structures. In fact, only a very small amount does. The rest requires wisdom. It requires understanding the narratives of Scripture in their own context, and the epistles and prophets against the backdrop of their social situation. There is much to be sifted and sorted.
This is a slow work that must be undertaken over the course of years, even decades. If we only ever discuss political matters during toxic election seasons and constrain our conversations only to the handful of key issues on the ballot that year, we will always have an incredibly shallow political theology.
And if our political theology is shallow, it can easily be co-opted by partisan politicians who need our votes to gain power. What’s more, in these seasons of anxiety, we won’t always give each other the best advice or offer a theology robust enough to adequately represent the priorities of Scripture.
Again, pastors are not immune.
We should respect our pastors—their calling, their training, their experience. And we should offer an abundance of grace and always assume the best of them when we disagree with something they have said. But we also must acknowledge that they are not infallible and neither is their voting advice.
On Nov. 5, millions of Bible-believing Christians will vote for Donald Trump (particularly when we look at white evangelicals). Millions of other Bible-believing Christians will vote for Kamala Harris (particularly when we look at Black Protestants). And, if recent data is accurate, millions of others still will be voting for neither.
We need to have a political theology expansive enough to hold these realities in tension without questioning the legitimacy of each other’s faith.
And while the sheer number of Christians who will likely opt out of voting is certainly indicative of something, that something is not necessarily a lack of faith or sense of duty. In fact, it might be the opposite. Many Christians simply choose not to participate in the political system of the American empire in a way that makes them feel morally compromised.
None of the issues presented in this election are unimportant. Even beyond the presidential race, this election will determine who fills any number of local and state-level offices in the coming years. Voters will also be asked to weigh in on morally consequential municipal and state referenda. Some of those decisions are more clear-cut than others. We should approach them all with prayer and careful consideration of biblical principles.
But in all of this, one thing should be true: When other Americans look at Christians, they should see the most peaceable, grace-filled, and non-anxious citizens in the entire nation.
The Christians who disagree with you about who to vote for (or whether to vote at all) are not unfaithful. They certainly aren’t demonic. Reject such notions—even if they are given to you by voices you trust, perhaps even by a pastor.