Mark Robinson, a Republican running for North Carolina governor, addresses supporters at a February campaign event on Ocean Isle Beach. (Madeline Gray for The Washington Post)
To his most zealous Christian supporters, Donald Trump’s campaign is a crusade against “evil” liberal forces that must be vanquished by any means necessary to save the republic.
Democrats aren’t opponents, but enemies to be “smited.” Vice President Harris is depicted as Jezebel, the epitome of womanly wickedness who meets a grisly end. Teachers, librarians, drag queens - all perceived as introducing dangerous ideas to children - are condemned to drowning with millstones around their necks, a la Matthew 18:6.
Spiritual warfare is a central theme of Christian nationalist movements that are reshaping the GOP by preaching that the country’s theological identity is under attack and in urgent need of a revolution to put the faithful in charge. Their rhetoric has been galvanizing crowds at conservative gatherings all year, and is likely to be woven into messaging at the Republican National Convention, which starts Monday.
The movements’ biblical references, extremism monitors warn, soften violent and racist messaging, and offer plausible deniability should believers turn into vigilantes, as hundreds did during the storming of the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021.
“You are either on the side of God or the side of the Devil,” said Miranda Zapor Cruz, a theologian at Indiana Wesleyan University, summing up the rhetoric. “If you are on the side of the Devil, then just about anything can be justified to cast you out, to eradicate your influence. And, for some people, that ‘just about anything’ would include physical violence.”
Religion scholars say Christian nationalism ranges from those who believe in a metaphorical battle of ideas against the left to a more militant subset willing to engage in actual combat over the soul of America. The ideology courses through Trump’s MAGA movement, with proponents worshiping with, stumping for and giving policy advice to the former president and his inner circle.
Trump allies in Congress have openly advocated for Christian nationalism.
Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene, R-Ga., has urged people to embrace the term “Christian nationalism.” (Jabin Botsford/The Washington Post)
Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene, R-Ga., has urged supporters to embrace the term: “I say it proudly - we should be Christian nationalists.” Sen. Josh Hawley, R-Mo., similarly claimed the label at a conservative conference this month, telling the crowd: “Some will say now that I am calling America a Christian nation. So I am. And some will say that I am advocating Christian nationalism. And so I do.”
Longtime Trump confidant Roger Stone told a podcast that a “demonic portal” had opened above the Biden White House. Another MAGA stalwart, former national security adviser Michael Flynn, says the nation is in the throes of a spiritual war and has called former House speaker Nancy Pelosi, D-Calif., a demon.
Despite never being particularly religious, Trump in recent years has played to the hard-right Christian view of him as a beleaguered defender of the faith, including comparing his legal troubles to the trials of Jesus. He declared the Nov. 5 election “Christian Visibility Day” and promised a faith advisory group that he would “create a new federal task force on fighting anti-Christian bias.”
“No one will be touching the cross of Christ under the Trump administration,” Trump pledged in February, drawing loud cheers from a crowd of hundreds at a Christian media convention in Nashville. “I swear to you.”
In sermons and on podcasts, hard-right Christians reason that Trump’s utility in pushing a more conservative national agenda on issues such as abortion outweighs hesitation over his history of lying, his 34 felony convictions, or the accusations against him involving sexual assault and other crimes. They depict flaws as chances for redemption and stay laser-focused on the broader mission: Beating back the diabolical forces they call “Demon-crats.”
“If everything is cosmic combat, you never compromise,” said Matthew Taylor, who researches Christian nationalism at the Baltimore-based Institute for Islamic, Christian and Jewish Studies. “Who wants to compromise with demons?”
Millstones and swords
In 2022, Kimber Glidden was fighting for her job as a library director in northern Idaho after refusing to cave to the book-banning demands of hard-right Christian parents who smeared her as a danger to children.
At one public meeting, Glidden recalled in a recent interview, a woman looked her in the eye while quoting Matthew 18:6, which describes a lethal punishment for anyone harming the young: “It were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea.”
“It’s like, ‘I’m not actually threatening you - I’m just quoting scripture at you,’” said Glidden, who eventually resigned because of the attacks. “You can threaten people and you can intimidate them, as long as you have a Bible tract in your hand.”
Religion scholars say Christian nationalists are skilled at plucking scripture out of context to justify intolerant or conspiratorial beliefs, literalist readings that can be used to persuade worshipers that violence is a biblically sound response to perceived existential threats to their country and faith.
Such cherry-picking distorts the text to suggest that ordinary Christians should be carrying out punishments that traditionally are interpreted as being meted out by God, said Kaitlyn Schiess, a theologian at Duke University and author of “The Ballot and the Bible,” which tracks how scripture is used in political speech.
“It gives them a sense of belonging to some kind of exciting drama - the fight between good and evil,” Schiess said. “And that can have really disastrous effects.”
To explain why it’s permissible to engage in fiery partisan fights while simultaneously recounting the peaceful examples of Jesus, some turn to Mark 12:17: “Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God.” To legitimatize militancy against leftist opponents, Christian hard-liners quote a verse from Matthew that proclaims, “I came not to send peace, but a sword.”
Millstone references pop up regularly in calls for retribution against librarians, teachers, abortion providers, racial justice activists, LGBTQ advocates and anyone else some members of the religious far right deem a threat to the project of a White Christian nation.
At a Proud Boys protest outside a drag event in Maryland last year, one man wearing the far-right group’s yellow-and-black insignia held a sign that quoted Matthew 18:6 above the words, “It’s millstone time!”
Former President Donald Trump speaks at a church in Detroit on June 15, 2024. (Jabin Botsford)
In April, anti-fascist activists in Miami criticized the singer Jimmy Levy, a MAGA favorite who has performed at Trump’s Mar-a-Lago estate in Florida, for warning President Biden in lyrics that he was “coming for your neck like a milly,” a millstone reference. Levy suggested the outrage was alarmist, writing on social media: “I never threatened Biden. I referenced what God says about those who hurt little ones.”
Republican lawmakers in states including Oklahoma, Texas and South Carolina have introduced versions of what they call a “Millstone Act,” legislation seeking to ban gender-affirming care for young adults. Civil rights groups say the proposals are part of a bigger right-wing campaign that uses religion to vilify transgender people with unfounded accusations of grooming and pedophilia.
Speaking in a small-town church last month, Mark Robinson, the Trump-endorsed GOP nominee for governor in North Carolina, told the audience that “some folks need killing.”
“It’s time for somebody to say it. It’s not a matter of vengeance. It’s not a matter of being mean or spiteful. It’s a matter of necessity!” Robinson, the lieutenant governor, said, according to a video of the speech surfaced by the New Republic.
The recording shows Robinson shouting about “wicked people,” including liberals, socialists and communists. He was introduced at the event by a local pastor, the Rev. Cameron McGill, who told the audience: “Who’s behind President Biden, and that administration? Is it Obama. Is it Clinton? Read your Bible. It is the Devil.”
Mike Lonergan, Robinson’s campaign spokesman, said on X that the candidate’s words referenced World War II enemies and were taken out of context in a “gutless and dishonest smear.”
In Arizona, Jeff Durbin, a far-right “abortion abolitionist” and influential Christian nationalist, has said that women deserve to be executed if they have an abortion - a stance he recently reiterated is “the historical position of the Christian church.”
“You forfeit your right to live,” Durbin said last month in a New York Times podcast.
After receiving backlash for the remarks, Durbin doubled down in a post on X: “We make no apologies for God’s Word and affirm that capital punishment is a just response from the state for the crime of murder.”
‘The end of democracy’
The growing prominence of Christian nationalism within the GOP has led to a scramble among pro-democracy groups to raise awareness about the risks it poses to elections and security - a threat that’s hard to recognize when it’s dressed in religion.
Christians opposed to a nationalist ideology are among the leaders of the pushback, speaking in churches and at universities, countering spiritual warfare language with other biblical verses that emphasize compromise and peacemaking.
“We must stand up to and speak out against Christian nationalism, especially when it inspires acts of violence and intimidation,” read a statement by Christians Against Christian Nationalism, a campaign organized by the Baptist Joint Committee for Religious Liberty, which supports the separation of church and state.
House Speaker Mike Johnson, R-La., is known to recite a passage from the Bible about putting on “the full armor of God.” (Ricky Carioti/The Washington Post)
Schiess, the Duke theologian, said she encourages Christians to run through a checklist when they hear powerful figures making biblical references: “Where is the language coming from and is this an appropriate use of it? Is this being used either to incite violence or anger or fear? Or, is it being used to make me feel comfortable and powerful and secure?”
The idea that Christian identity is under assault resonates with high-profile conservatives, among them House Speaker Mike Johnson, R-La., who displays the “Appeal to Heaven” flag, a Christian nationalist symbol, outside his office in Washington. Johnson is among many politicians on the right who recite Ephesians 6:11 about putting on “the full armor of God” to face the Devil’s schemes.
“Obviously, this is an increasingly hostile culture,” Johnson told the audience at a Christian women’s conference in 2022 where he quoted the verse. “We all know that. We need to understand why that is, and we need to commit to do our part to confront it. The kingdom of God allows aggression.”
At the recent Conservative Political Action Conference, a right-wing conclave now dominated by pro-Trump factions, far-right conspiracy theorist Jack Posobiec, onstage with Trump ally Stephen K. Bannon, welcomed the crowd “to the end of democracy.”
“We’re here to overthrow it completely. We didn’t get all the way there on January 6, but we will endeavor to get rid of it and replace it with this,” Posobiec told the audience, holding up a cross.
“Amen,” Bannon said.
