Public Faith in an Age of Identity Politics (Introduction)

Throughout recent decades, the concept of "culture wars" has become a central lens through which scholars and commentators interpret American social and political life. At its core, the culture war represents a clash of values, identities, and visions for the nation's future, often manifested in debates over issues such as education, marriage, religious freedom, and the role of government. This ongoing struggle for America’s soul reflects not only ideological divisions but also deeper questions about what it means to be American, what is the source of moral authority, and how our collective identity is shaped amid rapid social change. Movements linked to social justice ideology on the left, as well as the proponents of Christian nationalism on the right, have each sought to assert their values as the foundation for America's future.

Public discourse regarding issues of race, gender, religion, and patriotism has grown increasingly polarized, as activists and policymakers characterize these cultural issues as critical to the nation's identity. Political affiliations are progressively influencing and shaping personal relationships. One study indicated that 16 percent of respondents had ceased communication with a friend or family member due to disagreements stemming from the 2016 election.^[1] This heightened political engagement has contributed to an escalation in both divisive rhetoric and incidents of physical violence. Such polarization is present not only in national politics but also within local communities, educational institutions, and religious organizations, thereby affecting routine social interactions and fostering both unity and discord. Gaining better insight into the underlying factors propelling the culture war is crucial for any attempts to address and mend the divisions which impact the cohesiveness of American society and threaten our very democracy.

Why I Have Written This Book

Many books and articles have examined the rise of tribalism, populism, identity politics, and resentment-driven politics, and most commentators agree that we are facing a serious social and political crisis. These divisions now turn relatives against one another, fracture church communities, and strain neighborly relationships. How does this relate to my motivation for writing this book?

Theologically, I am an evangelical Christian, though I use the word “evangelical” cautiously—and with deep reservations—because of its current political associations. As one writer wisely observes, “Identities are dangerous and paradoxical things. They are the beginning and the end of the self. They are how we define ourselves and how others define us... They express our inner selves and let the outside world shape who we are.” More precisely, then, I am a committed follower of Jesus Christ, whom I regard as my Savior and Lord.

Politically, however, I am neither a MAGA Republican nor a “woke” liberal. My wife, Kathi, and I live in a Christian retirement community where most residents are politically conservative. Many of our churchgoing friends and family members are also Republicans who voted for Trump in the last three elections. To preserve peace, we tend to avoid political discussions with residents, friends, or family members who do not share our views. Yet, I also firmly believe that democracy cannot flourish without honest, open dialogue. Without such dialogue, our beliefs and opinions remain confined to echo chambers, where we hear only voices that reinforce and validate them. I have come to realize that escaping these echo chambers requires deliberately engaging ideas that challenge my assumptions. That is easier said than done. In short, the divisions and tensions of our society are part of my own lived experience. Perhaps they are part of yours as well. This book is for readers who share similar beliefs and concerns. Let me explain further.

While there has been a great deal of media coverage about the deleterious impact of this deep polarization on our politics less attention has been given to the huge impact it has had on our houses of worship. But, as the political scientist Ryan Burge so eloquently describes in his recent book The Vanishing Church: How the Hollowing Out of Moderate Congregations Is Hurting Democracy, Faith, and Us the trends that characterize our politics are also mirrored in our houses of worship:  “American churches are more likely to be split along our red and blue lines. Churchgoers are far less likely to worship alongside people who vote differently than they do. And religion itself is increasingly coded as right-wing.”^[2] My concern is with the impact of identity politics on the church as well as on what happens in our nation’s capital. Three decades ago, Carl F. H. Henry, the dean of modern evangelicalism, penned these words: “Should democracy collapse, Christianity can and will survive. But it will be high cultural tragedy if the Christian elements of society, through their disunity and unresolved differences, reflect negatively both on our democracy and on the community of faith and imply the irrelevance of Christian impact during a decisive turning of the cultural tide.”^[3]

The central premise of the book is that the church must recover a prophetic voice amid this crisis.  We cannot look nostalgically at the past and attempt to recover a bygone era. Nor can we achieve some idealistic vision of the future. We must stand within the modern ethos as our cultural inheritance, while subjecting it to rigorous critique in light of biblical truth and the gospel of God’s kingdom. In Crumbling Foundations: Death and Rebirth in An Age of Upheaval, the late theologian Donald Bloesch offers a penetrating critique of contemporary culture and of the church’s alignment with secular ideologies on both the left and the right. This book helps us see how easily Christians can be seduced by modern ideologies of one sort or another which give a grandiose promise of a glorious future.

I regard this study as an exercise in “social prophecy.”^[4] With Bloesch, I see theology and sociology as inseparable: theology without sociology becomes lifeless and socially irrelevant, while sociology without theology is blind and ultimately destructive. Theology becomes merely abstract unless it speaks to the social crises and upheavals around us. Just as the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, the gospel we proclaim must take concrete form in our present situation if it is to transform. The Christian task is not merely to reflect on the Word, but to participate in the transformation of the world through its power. At the same time, we must lament the erosion of Western culture’s metaphysical foundations. The crisis facing Western—and especially American—culture is not merely social and political; it is fundamentally spiritual and theological.^[5]

I also believe the church’s central challenge today is what Bloesch calls the “ideological temptation.” An ideology may be understood as a social or political way of interpreting life that serves the interests of a particular group or class. It offers a worldview that legitimizes the values and goals that group holds most dear. Often arising in protest against social injustice or in response to a perceived threat to social order or group survival, ideology functions as a kind of “substitute salvation.” It tends to become totalizing, reaching into every sphere of life and demanding absolute loyalty. When ultimate allegiance is given to race, nation, or ethnic heritage—as in Nazi Germany—ideology becomes increasingly tribal, shifting from hopes of social or economic improvement to a vision of ethnocentric unity and identity. Finally, ideologies are reductionistic: they paint the world in black and white and offer simplistic answers to difficult and complex problems.^[6]

The church can be truly prophetic only when it resists identifying the gospel with any sociopolitical ideology. However, large segments of the church have yielded to this ideological temptation. As Bloesch rightly warns, “It is especially disconcerting to see the church ally itself with some current ideology in the hope of gaining relevance or credibility. Ideological alignments accelerate rather than counter the secularization of the church.”^[7] In the early twentieth century, many mainline churches distorted the gospel by embracing the ideology of the “social gospel.” Beginning in the 1970s, many evangelical megachurches came under the influence of positive thinking—a “gospel” of “self-actualization” and “self-fulfillment.” More than forty years ago, Bloesch predicted: “Self-fulfillment will be supplanted by self-deification or, what is more likely, group deification. Narcissism will be replaced by tribalism, and positive thinking by a Titanic struggle for power.”^[8] For Bloesch, the greatest threat to the church and to Western democracy—indeed, to Western civilization itself—is not the Enlightenment vision, though it also challenges Christian faith, but an aggressive paganism and nihilism that denies the moral norms that once sustained society and reduces nearly everything to a naked struggle for power.

I am convinced that Bloesch’s warning from more than four decades ago is unfolding before us today. The current culture war is driven by identity politics, with “social justice” ideology on the left and MAGA politics—or Christian nationalism—on the right serving as its chief protagonists. How and why, we reached this point is the subject of my book. In telling this story (which has been told many times before), I do not claim complete objectivity, though I aim to be fair and even handed. Total objectivity is difficult, if not impossible, since the assumptions I make about what is right and true are invariably influenced by a host of factors, such as my mental and emotional states at any given time, life experiences, culture, relationships, and views on life and the world. Readers may disagree with me—perhaps strongly. And it is their right to do so. My only request is that they resist uncritical loyalty to any ideology and remain willing to engage complex ideas with care. Such engagement is urgently needed in our present cultural conflicts. Reactionary responses to disagreement do not help; nor do shallow soundbites or oversimplified arguments. Careful thought, patience, and intentional reflection are essential. We also need habits of civil discourse—the kind that begins, “I think I disagree, but can you help me understand your view?” As I stated above, one of my central aims is for this study to encourage and inspire that kind of dialogue. Let me begin, then, with the nature of the problem as I see it.

Identifying the Problem

Numerous observers contend that American democracy is experiencing significant challenges. Historian Heather Cox Richardson has stated, "America is at a crossroads," highlighting concerns about moves toward authoritarianism.^[9] Christian sociologist James Davison Hunter has expressed a comparable view. He maintains:

The crisis of democracy in America is apparent to all. Ordinary Americans of all backgrounds and convictions recognize that the entire political ecosystem—not only its leadership and its governing institutions, but also its leading ideas and ideals—is failing. This predicament is made worse by the fact that Americans themselves are increasingly fragmented and polarized, unable even to converse across their differences, much less find a way to work together in solidarity to address what is a common crisis.[10]

Hunter observes that most political analysts locate the problem in politics itself, or in what he calls “the politics of culture.” He argues, however, that our political conflicts are symptoms of a deeper historical and cultural crisis—what he calls the “culture of politics.” At this level, we have lost a shared mythos that gives politics meaning and draws people toward common purposes. Ironically, the commonly held belief that politics can solve democracy’s problems is itself an illusion, feeding a common culture of nihilism and resentment rather than unity. Hunter’s argument is discussed more fully in chapter one. Other writers likewise warn against misplaced faith in politics and political ideologies.

In a New York Times op-ed, Peter Wehner recalls that as a conservative college student in the early 1980s, he believed his Christian faith should shape his politics, yet he was uneasy with Christianity’s subordination to partisan ideology—“the ease with which people took something sacred and turned it into a blunt political weapon.”^[11] He later discovered that C. S. Lewis, a major influence on his faith, shared similar concerns. Lewis believed Christian faith offers insight into public life and can advance justice, natural rights, and human dignity. Yet he also warned that politics has limits. No party can approximate God’s ideal, and partisan zeal can falsely masquerade as holy conviction.^[12] Christianity concerns humanity’s ultimate end, while partisan politics can obscure it: “Aim at heaven and you will get earth thrown in. Aim at earth and you will get neither,” he warned.^[13] 

One need not share all of Lewis’s political views to grasp the force of his warning today. This book argues that both the far left and far right fall into a “political illusion”: each imagines its ideology to be righteous while treating its opponents as enemies and weakening democratic life. In such a polarized climate, political identity can eclipse citizenship and even Christian identity. Those outside one’s tribe are then seen as less American, or even less human. The shared symbolism of red, white, and blue gives way to red versus blue. Scholars call this “negative polarization,” in which party identity is shaped less by shared ideals than by fear and hostility toward the other side. Ideology and tribalism turn politics into a battle between good and evil.^[14]

Our unity as “We the People” is not guaranteed; without a common commitment to shared ideals and the common good, we risk tearing ourselves apart. The quest for ideological purity—or for a perfect fit between faith and politics—is a false ideal rooted in a flawed view of human nature. It overlooks sin’s effect on public life and makes compromise for the common good harder. If our beliefs align too neatly with one political platform, we should ask whether ideology has begun to shape our theology and religious commitments.^[15]

Still, we rarely question our tendency to treat politics as a remedy for nearly every social problem. For many, whether someone is conservative or liberal now matters more than almost any other identity. Recent studies suggest that, for some, political affiliation outweighs every other part of their identity.^[16]

This politicization has entered the church as well. Hunter argues that Christians have done more than any other group in recent decades to politicize values, reducing faith to ideology and turning churches and Christian organizations into interest groups.^[17] In this regard, missiologist Michael Cooper warns that when faith is politicized, whether on the left or the right, language can be weaponized in ways that deepen division among God’s people and severely harms the church’s witness and mission. Politically, socially, and even racially, we can become so emotionally invested in our group’s position that it begins to define us more than our identity in Christ and his kingdom.^[18] Thaddeus Williams likewise describes politicized faith as a spiritualized quest for political power. We use the power of the state to squash those who would dare to question or challenge our self-defined selves. The tragedy is that the far left and far right often mirror one another: each condemns the other for patterns it repeats itself.^[19]

The main fronts in this power struggle are white Christian nationalism on the right and postmodernism/post-colonialism, critical theory, and critical race theory on the left. The narrative on the left grows out of America’s history of racism and white supremacy. From this view, a declining white Christian majority is reacting against the loss of its privileged status as the nation becomes more racially, culturally, and religiously diverse, using political power to marginalize minorities. The competing narrative on the right is rooted in a particular understanding of faith and America’s founding. It holds that the left, under the banner of “social justice,” is using state power to strip away core rights—especially religious freedom and individual liberty—and to establish a secular, hegemonic orthodoxy in public life. Both sides see themselves as fighting a life-or-death battle for the soul of America.

Approach and Outline of the Study

There are many ways to explain our present crisis, but I want to close by clarifying how this study differs from other approaches. Most analyses, for various reasons, focus on either Christian nationalism on the right or on social justice ideology on the left. I contend, however, that a deeper understanding of our situation requires resisting the temptation to locate the problem solely on one side of the political spectrum. When we focus on one side of the culture war while ignoring the other, we distort the central issue and assume that exposing and defeating either fanatical postmodern Marxists on the far left or racist white supremacists on the far right will resolve the crisis. I suggest instead that the roots of our current malaise are deeper and more persistent than we often recognize. This does not require claiming moral equivalence between the two sides, but it does mean we cannot simply assign blame to only one side of the culture war.

This study does not attempt to provide an exhaustive account of how the culture war between the “social justice” movement white Christian nationalism contributed to the upheavals of 2016 and 2020. Instead, it seeks to show how the religious, cultural, social and political conflicts of today are linked by a common thread of identity politics. The culture war in the United States stems in large part from the felt need on the part of Americans for public validation of their group identities. As the political theorist Francis Fukuyama argues: “Demand for recognition of one’s identity is a master concept that unifies much of what is going on in world politics today.”^[20] As each group presses its identity claims more forcefully, the other feels increasingly threatened and responds in kind, creating an escalating “arms race.” According to Fukuyama, “The rise of identity politics in modern liberal democracies is one of the chief threats that they face, and unless we can work our way back to more universal understandings of human dignity, we will doom ourselves to continuing conflict.”^[21] 

There has, of course, always been some form of identity politics, or a politics based on the identity and interests of certain groups. However, beginning in the 1960s,  many on the left adopted a “social justice” narrative which transformed a legitimate and necessary concern for marginalized groups into a tribalist worldview which was too narrowly focused on the interests of one’s own “in-group” to the exclusion of “outgroups.” In his book Identity Politics in the United States, sociologist George Yancey shows how the language and tools of identity politics have been adopted by the political right in ways the mirror leftist ideology. Donald Trump and MAGA spokespersons in particular have played on themes of identity politics. This has enabled them to win political battles, but at the cost of succumbing to the use of dehumanizing political rhetoric and abandoning basic Christian values.

It is unrealistic to think that there is a simple sure-fire “cure” for our current political and social malaise. There are no “quick fixes” for the present crisis, says Hunter, “foremost because the cultural resources that underwrite democratic renewal have been so depleted. Neither will the course of history naturally and organically make things right.”^[22]

We are tempted to feel powerless over our inability to make any kind of a difference in the public sphere and retreat into our own little private worlds. Surveys indicate that this describes about two-thirds of us which make up the “exhausted majority.”  Fed up with the venom which poisons our political culture, we are inclined to maintain our sanity by simply focusing on our jobs, families, and personal friendships. But to achieve sustainable healing in our land we must resist the tendency toward cynicism and fatalism. Francis Collins rightly states: “If you retreat from the public sphere and neglect to pursue wisdom and healing, or just do so as your own private project, you are disengaging from the world at exactly the moment when your engagement is most needed.”^[23]

In my view, both approaches—either the quest for political domination or a total retreat from the public square—create an unbiblical and false dichotomy that prevents the church from embodying holistic mission and developing disciples who are committed to Jesus and his kingdom.^[24] In Jesus and the Powers: Christian Witness in an Age of Totalitarian Terror and Dysfunctional Democracies, N.T. Wright and Michael Bird offer a compelling exploration of how Christians should engage with political power. Their book challenges simplistic views of political engagement, advocating for a balanced approach that confronts empires while also contributing to free and democratic societies. Christians should pursue active involvement in ways that encourage and sustain liberal democratic systems while opposing both totalitarianism and nationalism. These authors remind Christians that “in an age of ascending autocracies, in a time of fear and fragmentation, amid carnage and crisis, Jesus is king, and Jesus’ kingdom remains the object of the Church’s witness and work.”^[25] They rightly state: “The Church carries a gospel which is not reducible to this worldly political activism, nor so heavenly minded as to live aloof from the trials and terrors of our times.”^[26] Wright and Bird acknowledge that the issue of when and how to resist injustice, oppression, and tyranny is hotly contested and a moral minefield. On the one hand, the Church cannot be reduced to a social action network; nor can it align itself too closely with one political faction. On the other hand, “our convictions about God putting the world to rights are only as strong as the evils we tolerate.”^[27]

Jesus and the Powers gives us a much-needed perspective on our fragmented and dysfunctional democracies as well as the Church’s response to the autocracies of our day. Wright and Bird correctly argue that Christians have a biblical call to confront the political and social structures of this world that are “corrupted by the poisonous pursuit of power and contaminated by the human attachment to idols of every kind.”^[28] Unfortunately, there is not much theological collaboration around political issues and how the global church ought to engage with various the various forms of “empire” that have been “let loose” in the world. In an interview with Christianity Today, Wright acknowledges that even among those few evangelical scholars who have written books about political theology, “we’ve hardly begun to think through all these things and how we structure our politics wisely.”^[29] This book attempts to partially fill that gap.

The following four sets of questions frame the key ideas, philosophical developments, and cultural forces that account for the appeal of identity politics on both the left and the right. They also expose its flaws and dangers within our democracy and point to the need for a positive alternative.

1. What philosophical, historical, and cultural forces have contributed to the current political crisis? What is the “new politics of identity,” where did it come from, and how has the current fixation on group identity shaped our culture wars?

   
   

2. How and why do people (including Christians) fall into the “identity trap”? What effects do the “identity trap” and rising tribalism have nationally and globally? In what ways does the church mirror the language, behavior, and campaigns of today’s “identity politics”?

3. To what extent do the new politics of identity on both the left and the right threaten democratic institutions? What, if anything, should Christians do in response to these illiberal threats? How can our democracy be preserved, and why should Christians care about its future?

   
   

4. Finally, what resources within the body of Christ can help formulate constructive responses to the ongoing crisis in our democracy? Put differently, how can—or should—Christians draw on their faith to serve the common good in a radically pluralistic society?

   
   

In sum, this book aims to tell the story of the emergence of an identity-based and  tribalistic ideology as a driving force in modern-day politics and the implications of this development for both liberal democracy and the church. The key question facing the church is whether it has both the will and resources to respond to this threat in any meaningful way. The book is divided into five parts. Part one discusses the historical, religious, philosophical, and cultural origins of the identity revolution. Part two describes the new authoritarianism which threatens liberal democracy in the U.S. and in other countries. I offer a biblically based defense of liberal (or pluralistic) democracy. In part three, I attempt to address the various issues raised by the “identity synthesis” of postmodernism, critical theory, and critical race theory.  In part four I discuss the contentious issue of evangelicals and Christian nationalism.  Finally, in part five I offer some suggestions for finding a way forward. 

[1] Sotirakopoulos, Identity Politics and Tribalism, 2.

[2] Burge, The Vanishing Church, 6.

[3] Henry, Has Democracy Had Its Day?, 57.

[4] See Bloesch, Crumbling Foundations, 20

[5] Ibid.

[6] Bloesch, Freedom for Obedience, 248-52.

[7] Bloesch, Crumbling Foundations, 19.

[8] Ibid., 87.

[9] Richardson, Democracy Awakening, 1.

[10] Hunter, Democracy and Solidarity, 1.

[11] Weiner, “The Political Magic of C. S. Lewis.”

[12] Lewis, “God in the Dock (Meditations on the Third Commandment), 198.

[13] Lewis, Mere Christianity.

[14] See Lukianoff and Heidt, The Coddling of the American Mind, 79.

[15] See Taflowski, “Politics as Twilight,” 2; and “Politics and Christian Realism,” 1.

[16] French, Divided We Fall, 81.

[17] Hunter, To Change the World, 168-72.

[18] Cooper, When Evangelicals Sneeze, 75. 79.

[19] Williams, Confronting Injustice Without Compromising Truth, 33.

[20] Fukuyama, Identity, xv.

[21] Ibid., xvi.

[22]Hunter, Democracy and Solidarity., 371.

[23] Collins, The Road to Wisdom, 343.

[24] Norris and Speers, Kingdom Politics, 3-7.

[25] Wright and Bird, Jesus and the Powers, xiii.

[26] Ibid., xvi.

[27] Ibid., 147.

[28] Ibid., 176.  See also Offult, Et al., Advocating for Justice, 81.

[29] McDade, “N.T. Wright: What Jesus Would Say to the ‘Empire’ Today.”